A STRANGE COMMISSION
Robert Westcote did not go to his luncheon the day of Lois' visit to
the city. He intended to go but was unexpectedly detained. He had
been very busy all the morning in his office. His lawyer had been with
him for some time, and when he was at last alone he turned his
attention to a type-written manuscript lying on the desk before him.
This consisted of several sheets of legal paper, attached to which was
an official seal which had been recently broken. This was the third
time that Mr. Westcote had read it and when he was through he sat for a
while in deep thought. He paid no attention to the click of the
typewriters in the adjoining room, and so engrossed was he that he did
not at first hear a tap upon the office door. When it was repeated, he
started from his reverie and called to the visitor to enter, thinking
that perhaps it was one of the clerks. It was not his habit to be
caught off guard, for he prided himself upon his alertness and strict
attention to every business detail.
The office door slowly opened, and instead of a clerk, there stood
before him a man dressed in rough working clothes. He recognised him
at once as one of the men employed at the falls, and whom he had met on
several occasions. It was Mr. Westcote's kindness and courtesy which
always won for him the hearty support of his employees. They knew that
they would receive justice and consideration at his hands and that he
did not look upon them with contempt and as inferior beings. Mr.
Westcote at once arose from his chair and held out his hand.
"Why, Dobbins," he exclaimed, "this is a surprise. I did not know you
were in the city. How are things going on at the falls? Nothing
wrong, I hope? Sit down, please," and he motioned him to a chair.
"The work is going on all right, sir," Dobbins replied, as he took the
offered seat. "But I have come to see you, sir, on very important
business. It has troubled me so much that I have not been able to
sleep ever since Randall was arrested."
"Oh, I see, it has to do with that murder case, has it?" Mr. Westcote
asked, now greatly interested.
"I wouldn't like to say that, sir," and Dobbins twirled his hat in his
hands. "But it might throw some light upon the matter. You see,
somebody killed old David. That's certain, isn't it?"
Mr. Westcote nodded his assent.
"Well, if you knew for sure that somebody had tried to but a short time
before, it would make you rather suspicious of that somebody, wouldn't
it?"
"I should say so!" Mr. Westcote exclaimed. "But do you know of any one
who made the attempt, Dobbins?"
"You can judge of that, sir, when you hear what I have to say. It was
this way. The day of the big wind I was sent to the shore to get a
piece of mill belting, which was to come from the city on the afternoon
boat. I had almost reached the brow of logs on the edge of the
clearing when I stopped to get a drink from that little spring by the
side of the road. I sat down for a minute or two under the shade of a
small thick fir tree to fill my pipe, when happening to glance to my
left I saw a man running up the road. I at once saw it was that artist
fellow, and curious to know what he was running for I moved back a
little behind the fir so's he couldn't see me. He stopped right by the
logs and peered down the bank. Then he looked cautiously around and,
picking up a stick, he pried loose one of the logs lying on top, and
which was almost ready to go anyway. As soon as he had done this, he
dropped the stick and ran like a streak of lightning down the road, and
that was the last I saw of him."
"Well?" Mr. Westcote questioned as Dobbins paused and wiped the
perspiration from his forehead with a big red handkerchief.
"This is the part, sir, which I am ashamed to tell," the man continued.
"I heard the crash of that log down the bank and the splash in the
water. Then there fell upon my ears a shriek of terror. I knew it was
a woman's voice and I leaped from my hiding place and peeked down the
bank. And there I saw old David and that girl Betty Bean standing
there frightened almost out of their senses. Say, I wasn't long
getting back under cover again, for I knew that if they saw me they
would say for sure that I had rolled that log down the bank on purpose.
I didn't dare to go to the shore on the road so I cut up through the
woods and came out another way. I didn't dare to say a word about it
for fear I might get into trouble. But when young Randall, who is a
chap we all think a lot of, was arrested for the murder of that old man
I couldn't sleep a wink. If that artist fellow tried to kill old David
once he would try again, and put the blame off on some one else. At
last I could stand it no longer and so made up my mind to tell you all
I know. You can judge now, sir, for yourself."
Mr. Westcote was greatly excited at this story, though outwardly he
remained very calm. Twice during the narration he had glanced at the
manuscript lying upon the desk, and once he had reached out his hand as
if to pick it up. For a few seconds he remained silent when the story
was ended. Then he rose to his feet and reached out his hand.
"Dobbins," he began, "I wish to thank you for what you have told me
to-day. You have done a good deed by thus unburdening your mind. Will
you be willing to swear to what you have just told me?"
"Swear! Indeed I will. I'll swear on a dozen Bibles any time and
anywhere."
"That's good," Mr. Westcote replied, as he bade him good-day. "We
shall need you before long, if I'm not much mistaken, so be ready."
Dobbins had scarcely left the office when Lois and Margaret arrived.
"My, how the morning has gone!" Mr. Westcote remarked as he greeted
Lois with a hearty shake of the hand. "I suppose we had better get
down to business at once, as no doubt you wish to go home this
afternoon. I hope you will pardon my sending for you and giving you
all this trouble."
"I do not mind in the least," Lois replied, "for I am sure it has
something to do with the murder, and I am so anxious to learn whether
you have found out anything new."
"Only something this morning, Miss Sinclair, which may be of
considerable value. I trust that we may unearth more in a few days."
"Oh, don't wait for a few days, Mr. Westcote," Lois pleaded. "You must
act at once, this very afternoon, if the criminal is to be caught."
"How can we, Miss Sinclair," was the reply, "when we are not sure who
the real criminal is?"
"But I know, and I think you will agree with me when I tell you my
story. Listen."
Lois then related what she had heard from Andy Forbes and Betty Bean.
She told her story well and Mr. Westcote was keenly interested not only
in what she told him, but in the animated look in her eyes and the
varying shades of expression which passed over her fair face. He
considered Jasper a lucky fellow in having such a beautiful woman
striving so hard for his release.
When Lois had finished, Mr. Westcote turned to his desk and drew the
telephone toward him.
"What you tell me, Miss Sinclair," he said, "is very valuable, and I
must see my lawyer at once. Excuse me a moment."
After he had called up the lawyer and asked him to come at once to his
office, he hung up the receiver and sat for a few seconds lost in deep
thought.
"Yes, we had better do it at once," he remarked as if to himself. "It
will not do to run any risk."
"Do what, Father?" Margaret enquired.
"Have that Bramshaw detained. I have received some additional
information to-day, and with what Miss Sinclair has just told me it
should be enough to arrest any man. Now, I must come to the question I
wish to speak to you about," and he turned to Lois. "You have told me
your story and in return I shall relate one perhaps of a more startling
nature."
"In connection with this same affair?" Lois eagerly asked.
"It has a direct bearing upon it. It has to do with the mystery which
has been surrounding the life of old David."
"And does it clear it up?"
"Wait, please, until I am through, and you can judge for yourself," Mr.
Westcote smilingly told her.
"I shall be as patient as Job," Lois replied, as she settled herself in
her chair as comfortably as possible.
"My story might seem strange to you," Mr. Westcote began. "In fact, it
has always seemed strange to me, and sometimes I think that I shall
wake up and find it nothing more than a dream. Well, without going
into details, which would not interest you, it is sufficient to say
that I came to this country over two years ago on one of the strangest
commissions ever given to man. I was handed two sealed papers numbered
1 and 2, with strict orders to break the seal of paper Number 1 only
upon my arrival in Canada, and then I should find my instructions in
reference to Number 2."
"What were the instructions?" Lois eagerly asked, as Mr. Westcote
paused for a few seconds as if considering how to proceed.
"That will come later," he replied. "I must tell you about Number 1
first. You promised to be patient, you know."
"Excuse me, I know I did," Lois smilingly confessed, as she glanced at
Margaret, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement.
"I was naturally anxious to know what my orders were," Mr. Westcote
continued, "and shortly after my arrival here, I broke the seal of
Number 1. Then I learned that I was to search for an old man who was
living in this country under the name of David Findley. No effort or
expense was to be spared. Money would be provided without stint
through one of the city banks. When the old man was found he was to be
kept in complete ignorance of the fact that I had been searching for
him. The hard part was that I should undertake to assist him in such a
way that he should not have the slightest idea that anything was being
done on his behalf. There was not to be the least semblance of
charity, and whatever was done for him had to appear to be the natural
payment for value received. If the old man had any special hobby or
scheme, no matter how wild, so long as it was legitimate, I was to
undertake to see that it should be carried out, no matter what the
expense. If the scheme proved feasible, so much the better, and strict
business methods were to be used to make it pay. But if not, the old
man's every lawful wish was to be gratified. One of the strict
instructions was that he should be induced as soon as possible to make
his will. This was to be done in such a way as to arouse no suspicion,
but that he should consider it as a matter of business detail, so that
his fond scheme, or whatever it might be, would not suffer in case of
his death.
"You can readily understand, Miss Sinclair, the magnitude of the
undertaking. At first I thought that I had been made the victim of a
madman, and was tempted to return to England at once, and have nothing
to do with the affair. But the amount of money placed at my disposal
in the bank settled all scruples and started me forth upon my strange
quest. I even began to enjoy the adventure of the whole thing, and the
mystery attached to it lured me on. I searched far and wide for David
Findley and at last, owing to an accident to my auto, located him at
Creekdale, living as a pauper. By the description given in paper
Number 1 I knew that he was the man for whom I had been searching.
After that, matters moved along very smoothly. He had a fond scheme,
too, which served my purpose splendidly. He was wrapped up in the idea
of converting the water of Break Neck Falls into light and power for
the benefit of the entire community. I consulted with the best
engineers, and they said the scheme was most feasible, and so we began
work. David was paid a sum of money for his plans, which satisfied
him, and he was made Honorary President of a company which has never
really existed. The money at my disposal made everything easy. You
know the rest, and why should I go further into details? It would be
unnecessary for me to tell you of the faithful and excellent work of
Mr. Randall. He has been of great assistance to me, and without his
aid my task would have been much harder than it has been."
When Mr. Westcote paused Lois looked enquiringly into his face.
"May I speak now?" she asked. "I have been very patient, have I not?"
"Indeed you have, Miss Sinclair," and Mr. Westcote smiled. "You may
ask anything you like."
"Surely you have not told me all. I thought you had merely begun when
you stopped. Who was David Findley, anyway, and what does paper Number
2 contain? I am most curious to know the end of this strange story."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you a very important thing," and Mr. Westcote
laughed. "My instructions in paper Number 1 told me not to open Number
2 until after the old man's death. Then I should learn all about him
and the mystery of my strange commission would be solved."
"Do you know yet?" Lois eagerly asked. "Have you broken the seal?"
"Yes, I broke it this morning, and have read the contents of the paper
three times. I am going to read it to you now, for that will be better
than if I tell it to you in my own words."