TWO GREAT MEN MEET
"Gone!" Lady Agatha, who had emerged from her stateroom, turned pale
and caught at her heart.
They rushed on deck. The young Doctor was right; the box, which had
stood on the larboard side of the cabin, had disappeared.
"It might have been blown into the canal during the storm," suggested
the Rev. Mr. Calthrop. All of the crew of the Jasper B. knew Lady
Agatha's story, and were aware of the importance of the box.
"It was on the lee side of the cabin," objected Dr. Farnsworth, "and
while it might have been blown flat to the deck, in spite of its
protected position, it would scarcely have been picked up by the wind
again and wafted over the port bulwarks."
"If you was to ask me," said Cap'n Abernethy, who had joined in the
discussion, "I'd give it as MY opinion it's a good riddance of bad
rubbish."
"Rubbish?" said Miss Pringle. "Rubbish, indeed! I am confident that
that box contained my plum preserves!"
"It has been stolen!" cried Cleggett, with conviction. "Fool that I
was, not to have taken it into the cabin!"
"But, if you had, you know," said Lady Agatha, "one would scarcely have
cared to stay in there with it."
"Loge has outgeneraled me," murmured Cleggett, well-nigh frantic with
self-reproach. "While he made the attack in front, he sent some of his
men to the rear of the vessel and it was quietly made off with while we
were fighting." Had the disappearance of the box concerned himself
alone Cleggett's sense of disaster might have been less poignant. But
the thought that his own carelessness had enabled the enemy to get
possession of a thing likely to involve Lady Agatha in further trouble
was nearly insupportable. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands
in impotent rage.
"No doubt Loge caught sight of it during the early part of the
skirmish, by a flash of lightning," said Dr. Farnsworth, "and acted as
you suggest, Mr. Cleggett. But does he believe it to be the box which
contains the evidence against him? Or can he, by any chance, be aware
of its real contents?"
"No matter which," groaned Cleggett, "no matter which! For when he
opens it, he will learn what is in it. Don't you see that he has us
now? If he offers to trade it back to us for the other oblong box, how
can I refuse? If we have his secret, Loge has ours!"
But Dr. Farnsworth was not listening. He had suddenly leaned over the
port rail and was staring down the canal. The others followed his gaze.
The house boat Annabel Lee, they perceived, had got under weigh, and
was slowly approaching the Jasper B. in the moonlight. They watched
her gradual approach in silence. She stopped within a few yards of the
Jasper B., and a voice which Cleggett recognized as that of Wilton
Barnstable, the great detective, sang out:
"Jasper B., ahoy!"
"Aye, aye!" shouted Cleggett.
"Is Mr. Cleggett on board?"
"He is speaking."
"Mr. Cleggett, have you lost anything from your canal boat?"
Cleggett did not answer, and for a moment he did not move. Then,
tightening his sword belt, and cocking his hat a trifle, he climbed
over the starboard rail and walked along the bank of the canal a few
yards until he was opposite the Annabel Lee. The great detective, on
his part, also stepped ashore. They stood and faced each other in the
moonlight, silently, and their followers, also in silence, gathered in
the bows of the respective vessels and watched them.
Finally, Cleggett, with one hand on his hip, and standing with his feet
wide apart, said very incisively:
"Sir, the Jasper B. is NOT a canal boat."
"Eh?" Wilton Barnstable started at the emphasis.
"The Jasper B.," pursued Cleggett, staring steadily at Wilton
Barnstable, "is a schooner."
"Ah!" said the other. "Indeed?"
"A schooner," repeated Cleggett, "indeed, sir! Indeed, sir, a schooner!"
There was another silence, in which neither man would look aside; they
held each other with their eyes; the nervous strain communicated itself
to the crews of the two vessels. At last, however, the detective,
although he did not lower his gaze, and although he strove to give his
new attitude an effect of ease and jauntiness by twisting the end of
his mustache as he spoke, said to Cleggett:
"A schooner, then, Mr. Cleggett, a schooner! No offense, I hope?"
"None at all," said Cleggett, heartily enough, now that the point had
been established. And the tension relaxed on both ships.
"You have lost an oblong box, Mr. Cleggett." The great detective
affirmed it rather than interrogated.
"How did you know that?"
The other laughed. "We know a great many things--it is our business to
know things," he said. Then he dropped his voice to a whisper, and said
rapidly, "Mr. Cleggett, do you know who I am?" Before Cleggett could
reply he continued, "Brace yourself--do not make an outcry when I tell
you who I am. I am Wilton Barnstable."
"I knew you," said Cleggett. The other appeared disappointed for a
moment. And then he inquired anxiously, "How did you know me?"
"Why, from your pictures in the magazines," said Cleggett.
The detective brightened perceptibly. "Ah, yes--the magazines! Yes,
yes, indeed! publicity is unavoidable, unavoidable, Mr. Cleggett! But
this box, now----"
The great detective interrupted himself to laugh again, a trifle
complacently, Cleggett thought.
"I will not mystify you, Mr. Cleggett, about the box. Mystification is
one of the tricks of the older schools of detection. I never practice
it, Mr. Cleggett. With me, the detection of crime is a business--yes,
a business. I will tell you presently how the box came into my
possession."
"It IS in your possession?" Cleggett felt a dull pang of the heart.
If the box of Reginal Maltravers were in the hands of Logan Black he
could at least trade the other oblong box to Loge for it, and thus save
Lady Agatha. But in the possession of Wilton Barnstable, the great
detective----! Cleggett pulled himself together; he thought rapidly;
he recognized that the situation called, above all things else, for
diplomacy and adroitness. He went on, nonchalantly:
"I suppose you are aware of the contents of the box?"
The other laughed again as if Cleggett had made an excellent jest;
there was something urbane and benign in his manner; it appeared as if
he regarded the contents of the box of Reginald Maltravers as anything
but serious; his tone puzzled Cleggett.
"Suppose I bring the box on board the Jasper B.," suggested the great
detective. "It interests me, that box. I have no doubt it has its
story. And perhaps, while you are telling me some things about it, I
may be able to give you some information in turn."
There was no mistaking the fact that the man, whether genuinely
friendly or no, wished to appear so.
"Have it brought into my cabin," said Cleggett, "and we will discuss
it."
A few minutes later Wilton Barnstable, Cleggett, Lady Agatha, Miss
Pringle, and two of Wilton Barnstable's men sat in the cabin of the
Jasper B., with the two oblong boxes before them--the one which had
contained Loge's incriminating diary, and the one which had caused Lady
Agatha so much trouble.
In the light of the cabin the three detectives were revealed as
startlingly alike. Barton Ward and Watson Bard, Barnstable's two
assistants, might, indeed, almost have been taken for Barnstable
himself, at a casual glance. In height, in bulk, in dress, in facial
expression, they seemed Wilton Barnstable all over again. But, looking
intently at the three men, Cleggett began to perceive a difference
between the real Wilton Barnstable and his two counterfeits. It was the
difference between the face which is informed of genius, and the
countenance which is indicative of mere talent.
"Mr. Cleggett," began Wilton Barnstable, "as I said before, I will make
no attempt to mystify you. I was a witness to the attack upon your
vessel. Mr. Ward, Mr. Bard, and myself, in fact, had determined to
assist you, had we seen that the combat was going against you. We lay,
during the struggle, in the lee of your--your--er, schooner!--in the
lee of your schooner, armed, and ready to bear a hand. We have our own
little matter to settle with Logan Black. Why Logan Black should
desire possession of this particular box, I am unable to state.
Nevertheless, at the moment when he was leading his assault upon your
starboard bow, two of his men, who had made a detour to the stern of
your vessel, had clambered stealthily aboard, and were quietly pushing
the box over the side into the canal. They let themselves down into
the water, and swam towards the mouth of the canal, pushing it ahead of
them. We followed in our rowboat, Mr. Ward, Mr. Bard, and myself, at a
discreet distance. We let them push the box as far south as the
Annabel Lee. And then----"
He paused a moment, and smiled reminiscently. Barton Ward and Watson
Bard also smiled reminiscently, and the three detectives exchanged
crafty glances.
"Then, to be brief, we took the box away from them. They were so
ill-advised as to struggle. They are in irons, now, on board the
Annabel Lee.
"But what I cannot understand, Mr. Cleggett, is why these men should
risk so much to make off with an empty box."
"An empty box!" cried Cleggett.
"Empty!" echoed Lady Agatha and Miss Pringle, in concert.
The detective wrenched the cover from the box of Reginald Maltravers.
"Practically empty, at any rate," he said.
And, indeed, except for a few wads of wet excelsior, there was nothing
in the box of Reginald Maltravers.
"Where, then," cried Lady Agatha, "is Reginald Maltravers?"
"Where, indeed," said Wilton Barnstable, "is Reginald Maltravers?"
"Where, then," cried Miss Pringle, "are my plum preserves?"
"Where, indeed?" repeated Wilton Barnstable. And Barton Ward and Watson
Bard, although they did not speak aloud, stroked their mustaches and
their lips formed the ejaculation, "Where, indeed?"
"We will tell you everything," said Cleggett. And beginning with his
purchase of the Jasper B. he recounted rapidly, but with sufficient
detail, all the facts with which the reader is already familiar,
weaving into his story the tale of Lady Agatha and the adventures of
Miss Pringle. Wilton Barnstable listened attentively. So did Barton
Ward and Watson Bard. The benign smile which was so characteristic of
Wilton Barnstable never left the three faces, but it was evident to
Cleggett that these trained intelligences grasped and weighed and
ticketed every detail.
While Cleggett narrates, and Wilton Barnstable and his men listen, a
word to the reader concerning this great detective.