LONDON
HENRY FROWDE
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
1910
*CONTENTS*
Chap.
I. A Cowardly Attack
II. The Old Miser
III. The Great Prize is offered
IV. I enter for the Race
V. Treachery!
VI. Rats in a Trap
VII. Ghosts
VIII. Neck and Neck for the First Lap
IX. More Treachery
X. A Serious Check
XI. Stalking a Man
XII. Scotching a Snake
XIII. An Unexpected Tragedy
XIV. A Glimpse of the Winning-Post
XV. Eureka!
XVI. "All that glitters is not Gold!"
XVII. Lost!
XVIII. How we buried ourselves alive for the Love of Science
XIX. A Night with a Lion
XX. Our Trusty Nigger to the Rescue
XXI. The Bad Elephant
XXII. I am mourned for Dead
XXIII. A Rude Awakening
XXIV. Strong sprints and gains a Lap
XXV. Lapped, but still in the Race
XXVI. How we prospected for Coal
XXVII. Eldorado or--Hogland
XXVIII. What the Elder did with Strong
XXIX. Much Digging
XXX. I take a Strong Lead in the Race
XXXI. The Elder makes a good Bargain, and Michail a poor one
XXXII. We receive a Terrible Shock
XXXIII. How Strong escaped from Prison
XXXIV. Exit Strong
XXXV. More Checks
XXXVI. We find an Old Friend
XXXVII. Mr. Strong makes an Effective Reappearance
XXXVIII. Arrested
XXXIX. Digging again
XL. Jack proves Himself a Genius
XLI. The Excitement becomes intense
XLII. All over but--
XLIII. --the Shouting
*CLUTTERBUCK'S TREASURE*
*CHAPTER I*
*A COWARDLY ATTACK*
When my father died and left me unexpectedly penniless, all those kind
friends whom I consulted upon my obvious failure to find anything to do
were quite agreed as to this fact: that when a young man is desirous of
finding employment in this world, and of making his way and keeping his
head up among his fellows, his failure to do so, if he does fail, must
certainly be his own fault. He lacks, they said, either energy or
perseverance or pluck, or all three; in a word, he wants "grit."
Therefore the reader will kindly understand this about me as a
standpoint: that since I failed miserably to find employment befitting a
young person of my position, at a time when it was necessary to find
employment or go to the wall, I must--by all the rules of the
probabilities--not only have gone to the wall, but also be deficient in
all those qualities which are most dear to the British intelligence,
namely--pluck, perseverance, and so forth.
And yet I did not go to the wall. On the contrary, I am, though still a
young man, in an exceedingly comfortable position; while as for the
British virtues which I am supposed to lack, I do not think--though I
will not boast--that the reader will hesitate to acquit me of the charge
of wanting every quality that goes to make an average Englishman, when
he shall have read the curious tale I have to unfold.
My father's death, followed by the unexpected revelation of his
insolvency, was a terrible blow to me. I had been educated without
regard to expense. At Winchester I had plenty of pocket-money, and was,
for this reason--and because I was a good athlete and but a moderate
scholar--a popular character. At New College, Oxford, during the one
year I spent there, I was in a set whose ideas centred rather upon the
pleasures of life than upon its duties and responsibilities.
I still had plenty of money, and undoubtedly the last thing in the world
that would have been likely to trouble my head at this time was any
reflection as to where the funds came from. My father, as I believed,
was a rich man, a member of the Stock Exchange, and having the disposal,
as I had always understood, of practically unlimited supplies of money.
Then came the telegram from home announcing disaster, and at a moment's
notice I found myself fatherless, penniless, and as good as hopeless
too; for at my age, and with my inexperience, I was utterly at a loss to
know what to do or how to set about to find some means of supporting
myself.
My father's business, it appeared, had suddenly and completely
collapsed. He had "got himself cornered," as I was informed, though I
did not understand the term, and had lost every farthing that he
possessed and more. The shock of it all had proved fatal to my poor
parent, and he had succumbed suddenly--a broken heart, as I heard
someone say; but I fancy my father's heart had always been a weak point
in his economy, and the collapse in his fortunes doubtless gave to it
the finishing touch.
So then, at the age of nineteen, I found myself master of my own
fortunes, which certainly looked very like _mis_fortunes; and in that
stress of circumstances it was that I applied to my friends for advice,
and received from each the assurance that if I possessed those British
qualities to which reference has been made I should certainly find
something to do; and that if I failed to "get on" I might rest assured
that I had no one to thank but myself. Nevertheless, I found nothing to
do. There could be no talk of any of the learned professions; I was too
old for Sandhurst, even if I could have passed the examination; the navy
was, of course, out of the question.
My ideas wildly wandered from professional football or cricket to
enlistment in the line, and from that to life in the bush, or digging
for hidden wealth in the soil of Rhodesia or of Klondyke, but the
expense of the outfit and journey rendered this latter project
impossible. There remained ultimately two resources from which to
choose: enlistment or desk-work at a London office, which I believed I
could obtain without difficulty if I should be reduced to so unpalatable
an alternative.
But office life, I felt, would be worse than purgatory to me. The very
idea of confinement and the lack of plenty of fresh air and exercise was
intolerable, and I ultimately resolved that I would take the Queen's
shilling, and submit to barrack discipline and all the indignities of
existence among my social inferiors rather than bind myself for ever to
the misery of the city. Indeed, I had quite made up my mind to journey
to Trafalgar Square, in order to interview one of the recruiting
sergeants generally to be found at the north-eastern corner of that
favourite rendezvous, when something happened to set my ideas flowing in
a new channel.
My father's house, in our days of prosperity, had been one of those fine
mansions overlooking Streatham Common; and though I had left the
dismally stripped and dismantled place as soon as the miserable
formalities of funeral and sale were over, I had taken a cheap lodging
in Lower Streatham, because in the chaos of my ideas and plans it
appeared to me that I might as well stay in the neighbourhood of my old
home as anywhere else, until the fifty pounds still remaining to my
credit at my Oxford bankers had gone the way of all cash, or until I
should have made up my bewildered mind as to where, in all this wide and
pitiless world, I should go for a living.
I had practically determined, as I say, to enlist, and was walking one
warm summer evening along the green lane which runs from Thornton Heath
to Lower Streatham, deep in somewhat melancholy reflection upon the step
I was about to take, when a noise of scuffling and bad language
distracted my thoughts from the contemplation of to-morrow's
barrack-yard trials, and brought them up with a run to the consideration
of the present instant. I suppose the noise that they were themselves
making prevented the four persons taking part in the scrimmage, which I
now suddenly saw, from observing my approach, for they continued to
tussle and to wrangle on their side of the hedge, while I watched them
for a moment from mine, desiring, if possible, to discover what the
quarrel was about and on which side the right lay, if either.
Then I soon perceived that the fight was an iniquitous and unequal one,
for three younger men had set upon one elderly person and were obviously
engaged in attempting to relieve him of his money and valuables, an
attempt which the old gentleman made gallant but naturally futile
efforts to frustrate, hitting out right valiantly with his umbrella, but
doing far more violence to the Queen's English than to the heads and
persons of his assailants, upon whom the blows of his feeble weapon
produced little effect.
I need scarcely say that, having ascertained what was passing, I did not
waste time in making up my mind as to which side should receive the
favour of my support, and in far less time than it takes to write the
words, I had burst through the hedge and rushed to the assistance of the
swearing and furious old gentleman.
At my appearance one of the fellows bolted like a hare across the field
towards Norbury, and I saw no more of him. Now, I had paid some little
attention to the study of self-defence while at Oxford, and though the
remaining two rascals stood up to me for a moment, I soon placed my
right fist in so convincing a manner upon the tip of the nose of one
that he went down like a nine-pin and lay where he fell, while the
other, after feinting and dodging and ducking for a few seconds as I
squared up to him with the intention, if necessary, of treating him like
his fellow, suddenly turned, darted through the hedge, and was away down
the lane towards Thornton Heath in the twinkling of an eye, I following.
Away we went at hundred-yards' speed, he leading by about ten paces, and
for about fifty yards it was anybody's race. Then I began to gain, and,
seeing this, the fellow threw something down and ran on; he careered for
another half hundred paces and then ridded himself of something else;
and I, fearing, if I continued the pursuit, to lose my chance of
recovering the old man's property--which, I rightly conjectured, was
what the fellow had relieved himself of--stopped to pick it up while I
could. I thus allowed my friend to escape, which was, of course, what
he most desired at the moment, even more than the possession of the
pocket-book and the gold watch which I soon found in the road and
recovered.
Then I returned to the spot where I had left my fallen foe and the old
gentleman whose property had been the original cause of disagreement
between the contending parties.
*CHAPTER II*
*THE OLD MISER*
I found my ally beating the prostrate enemy with his umbrella, and still
using language which would have been unseemly in any person, and sounded
doubly shocking in the mouth of an old man.
"Come," I said, "you needn't swear, sir; and I wouldn't continue to
whack a man who is down, if I were you."
"Kill him! kill him--the cowardly rascal! Kick him on the head and kill
him!" shrieked the infuriated old gentleman; "they have robbed me
between them, and I'll have his life for it! I'm a poor man, and
they've taken my all; kick him in the head, if you're a man, and kill
him!"
I could not help laughing. "It's because I'm a man that I shall do
nothing of the kind," I said. "Stop dabbing at him with your umbrella
and attend to business; here's your property--take it." I presented him
with his pocket-book and watch as I spoke, and never did I behold so
complete a metamorphosis in the expression of a man's face as now passed
over his. He seized his property with both hands and hugged it to his
breast. He beamed and chuckled over it, mumbling inarticulate words of
delight as he fondly drew forth a bundle of notes and counted them.
It struck me that here was a considerable sum of money for a poor man to
carry about with him; for though he jealously hid from me the figures
that would have revealed the value of the notes, I was able to observe
that there were at least fifteen or twenty of these, which, even
supposing them to have been mere "rivers," would represent a decidedly
respectable sum. The old fellow observed me watching him.
"Private papers, private papers!" he muttered; "letters from my dead
wife that I would not lose for their weight in diamonds!"
"You old humbug!" I thought; "if ever you had a wife you starved her,
I'll bet."
But the condition of our prostrate enemy began to give me some anxiety,
and I was obliged to transfer my attention from the old miser to him. He
lay groaning and snoring, his eyes shut, and his nose still bleeding a
little. Suddenly he opened his eyes slightly and looked at the old man
and at me. He scowled as he saw me, but his lips muttered "Water!"
"Go and fetch the man some water--you, sir," I said; "you can finish
counting your notes afterwards. I would go, but I dare not leave him
with you."
"Water for the rogue that robbed me? Not I," said the old fellow; "let
him lie and rot first!"
"Then I will go," I said, for positively the rogue looked like expiring,
and I was really anxious for him. If he were actually as bad as he
looked there was not much danger in leaving him. I knew of a duck-pond
near a farmhouse close by, and towards this I proceeded at my best
speed, for the fellow must not be allowed to die--rascal though he
undoubtedly was.
The rascal, it appeared, had no intention of dying, however, just at
present; for when I returned with water from the duck-pond, he had
departed, and departed--as I gathered--in company with the old
gentleman's pocket-book, for its owner sat on the grass evidently dazed,
nursing a portion of the _porte-monnaie_, for which, I suppose, he had
made a good fight, if the jagged and torn appearance of the remnant was
any indication of a struggle.
I could see our friend careering down the lane, some distance away,
towards Thornton Heath, well out of reach of pursuit, and I was
straining my eyes after him in hopes of marking him down somewhere, when
the old miser behind me suddenly interrupted my reflections by bursting
anew into a paroxysm of abuse and bad language, which threw even his
previous excursions into the shade.
Whether I or the thief, or both of us, were the objects of his frenzy
was not very apparent, for his vituperations were incoherent and
inarticulate; but I gathered presently that I was at least in part
responsible for the disaster, for he inquired, with many added flowers
of speech, why I had been so foolish as to go for water and leave him
with a cold-blooded ruffian who had robbed a poor old man of his entire
fortune.
I was sorry for the unfortunate victim to my ill-judged humanity, and
did my best to soothe him.
"You must stop the notes at once," I said; "and as for the fellow
himself, why, we'll describe him to the police and identify him in no
time; we shall get your money back, never fear."
"It's a lie!" he shrieked; "I am ruined! I shall never see a penny of
it; you and your accomplices will fatten upon the old man's savings.
Curse you all! I wish you were dead!"
"Thank you," I said; "if that's the case I shall wish you good afternoon
and depart, or my accomplices will levant with my share of the spoil."
I started to go in the direction of Streatham. The old fellow came to
his senses at once.
"Stop a minute!" he cried; "I don't mean that. Stop and help me to
recover my money."
"What, from my own accomplices?" said I. He took no notice.
"Help me to recover my money," he continued, "and to bring that rogue to
the gallows, and--and you won't be sorry for it!"
"It isn't a hanging matter," I said; "but I am ready to help you if you
talk like a sensible man. How much has the fellow taken?"
This was an unfortunate remark, for it instantly plunged the old man
into renewed paroxysms of rage and woe. I therefore did not pursue my
inquiries, but led my friend slowly towards Streatham, he spluttering
and muttering his maledictions, I patiently awaiting the dawn of reason.
I inquired, however, presently, whether he knew the numbers of his
stolen notes, and as my companion inquired, in response, whether I took
him for a fool, I concluded that he did possess this information.
The old man grew calmer after a while, and I accompanied him first to
the police station, and afterwards to the telegraph office, where he
wrote and despatched a wire to the manager of the Bank of England. The
clerk read out his message as we stood at the counter, and I was
astonished and rather shocked to learn that my new friend's loss,
according to his list of notes, amounted to something very near three
hundred pounds.
During the next few days my acquaintance with the strange old man
ripened considerably; for together we were called upon by the police
authorities to attend, at least once _per diem_, at the Streatham police
station, in order to identify the culprit among a large assortment of
suspicious characters brought up daily for our inspection. I think it
was on the fifth or sixth day after the robbery that our pilgrimages to
the police station were at last crowned with success, and we had the
pleasure of seeing once again the unmistakable features of the rogue we
were in search of, and afterwards of getting him condemned by a
magistrate to a period of enforced virtue and innocence. We were,
moreover, successful in recovering a portion of the stolen property,
though not all of it--a circumstance which greatly pleased me, for I
honestly believed that the lost three hundred pounds represented the
whole of my old friend's worldly possessions, as he had led me to
understand, and I had been grieved to think of the poor old fellow's
sudden misfortune and ruin through the guile of a fellow-creature.
Mr. Clutterbuck, which was the old miser's name, lived in a small villa
in Lower Streatham--a dingy, dull-looking house situated in the midst of
a moderate garden surrounded by a high brick wall. So far as could be
seen, there was no way of entering the abode excepting by a small door
in the wall leading up through the square garden to the house; and
though I several times, during that week of attendance at the police
station and the police court, accompanied the old man home, he never
once invited me within doors; neither did he ever express to me one word
of thanks for the services I had rendered him in connection with the
loss he had sustained and the recovery of a good portion of his
property.
Meanwhile, however, this affair had delayed my enlistment for more than
a week, and during that period I received an invitation from a college
friend in the country to pay him a visit at his house in
Gloucestershire; an invitation which I gladly accepted, thanking my
lucky stars that some good, at least, had thus come of my strange
encounter with the eccentric old miser, Clutterbuck.
Assuredly, when I parted from him for the last time, after the
completion of the business which had brought us daily together for a
week or near it, I never supposed that any other good could possibly
proceed from the acquaintance, or from the delay in my "career" which
the affair had occasioned. After my visit to Gloucestershire I should
return to London and enlist without further delay; and as for old
Clutterbuck, I had neither expectation nor desire ever to behold his
face or hear his name again. For how could I know that--
As a matter of fact I never did see the old man again. I went to
Gloucestershire and forgot him, or at all events forgot to think of him,
until--nearly a month after--I received a letter which brought him
suddenly and very forcibly to remembrance--a letter which was destined
to lead to a complete "general post" of all my ideas and plans in life,
driving from my mind all thoughts of enlistment and office drudgery and
everything else of the kind; a letter which told of the miser's end and
gave me hope of a new beginning, and which proved, after I had learned
its full significance, that even misers may remember benefits conferred,
and show a sense of gratitude for which they do not, as a rule, obtain
much credit.
I read the letter, first, with my heart all a-flutter with excitement;
but presently my agitation cooled down, for, I reflected, even though I
should have been chosen as the old man's heir, or part-heir, what could
the old fellow have to leave?
"Don't be a sanguine fool, man!" I said to myself. "There isn't much in
the business."
Which showed that, though good at games, I was no better prophet than I
was scholar!
*CHAPTER III*
*THE GREAT PRIZE IS OFFERED*
The letter, so far as I can remember the wording of it, read something
like this--
"DEAR SIR,"--(it ran)--"By desire of the late Mr. William Clutterbuck I
have to invite you to be present at his burial, on Friday next, in the
churchyard of St. Mary's, Norbury, and also at the subsequent reading of
my late client's will on the same afternoon at Aston Villa, Lower
Streatham."
The signature was that of some lawyer.
"By George! Peter, old chap," said my college chum, to whom I handed
the letter after reading it, "you're in for a legacy, you lucky old
rascal! Who is it?--an uncle? You won't have to enlist after all!"
"Uncle?" I repeated; "no! I haven't such a thing in the world; and as
for legacy--there may be a fiver or so in it, but nothing more. It's an
old fellow who carried all his fortune in a pocket-book and got it
stolen;" and I told Henderson the whole story of my futile attempt to
defend old Clutterbuck's property in Green Lane a month ago.
Henderson was immensely interested.
"Don't you make any mistake; that pocket-book never contained his entire
fortune," he said. "The old boy was a miser on the face of him, any fool
could see that; he may have got a hundred thousand hidden in a cellar,
half eaten by the rats, and all left to you. Why, man, I have heard of
huge fortunes left to fellows for far less."
And Henderson proceeded to tell me of how a man he had read or heard of
was left fifty thousand for letting an old lady look over his hymnbook
in church; and how another fellow got as much again for paying an old
gentleman's omnibus fare when the conductor refused to give him change
and threatened to be disagreeable; and many other choice examples of a
similar character.
But I was firmly convinced that there was nothing romantic forthcoming
as the result of my acquaintance with old Clutterbuck, at least nothing
more romantic than a five- or ten-pound note, and I took the train to
Paddington with the sense that the journey was an unmitigated nuisance,
since it was unlikely to lead to anything seriously interesting, while
it cut short an extremely pleasant visit in a circle of society from
which I should perforce be excluded before long in my capacity of plain
Tommy Atkins, the recipient of the Queen's shilling and wearer of the
uniform of the humblest of her servants militant.
Steggins, the lawyer, was, however, decorously polite when I made my
appearance at Aston Villa. There were three or four other persons
present, expectant legatees like myself, I concluded; so that the
contents of dead Mr. Clutterbuck's pocket-book were to be divided among
five, at least, of us. There was nothing in the business--I was certain
of it; I had been a fool to leave my comfortable quarters in the country
upon such an errand; would that I had stayed!
Mr. Clutterbuck had died, I was told, of heart disease. He had never
quite recovered the shock of the assault in Green Lane, and it was
believed that he had encountered one of his assailants on the day of his
death and recognised him, and that the excitement of the _rencontre_ had
proved fatal. My fellow-legatees were, it appeared, relatives of the
deceased, and one and all of these looked askance at me as an
interloper, several of them inquiring of Steggins, in my hearing, what I
had had to do with the testator, and what claim I possessed upon the
property.
Mr. Steggins replied that he believed I had performed some service to
the deceased for which the testator was grateful.
"What's the figure, Steggins, old man?" asked one. "How does the old
boy cut up?"
"That's what we are about to learn," said the man of law.
We did learn it a few minutes later; and a very remarkable lesson it
was!
I suppose that Mr. Clutterbuck's testamentary dispositions were just
about as surprising and unexpected as such dispositions can well be,
unless indeed they had emanated from an absolute lunatic, and this Mr.
Clutterbuck certainly was not. We who were present as expectant
legatees were taken aback, one and all, and when I use this expression
about my own feelings I am choosing an exceedingly mild one.
As a matter of fact, I was, to use a more serviceable word,
"flabbergasted." For me alone of those present the large amount of
money which the testator had to dispose of was an absolute surprise. I
learned afterwards that all the rest were well aware that their relative
had been possessed of considerable wealth, though perhaps none of them
may have realised the real extent of his hoarded riches. At all events
no one could possibly have guessed how the eccentric old man intended to
dispose of his money. So that in this matter the surprise of the rest
was as great as my own.
"The will, gentlemen," said Mr. Steggins, preparing to read that
document, "is very short, very clear as to its dispositions, though not
worded in the customary legal phraseology" (I could not help laughing at
the _non sequitur_ involved in this explanation), "and exceedingly
eccentric. It begins with the words, 'The Prize to the Swift,' which
sentence heads the document as a kind of text, and it continues as
follows:--
"'I wish to preface my testamentary dispositions with the remark that my
personal estate amounts, at the time of writing, to exactly ninety-seven
thousand eight hundred and ninety-two pounds three shillings and
sixpence, free of legacy duty. The accumulation of this sum of money has
occasioned me much hard labour, much thought, much disappointment, many
dangers, much travel by land and sea. I have no intention that my heir
should acquire that which has been gained by the sweat of my brow
without corresponding labour and suffering on his own part.'
"That is the opening paragraph of the will itself," said Mr. Steggins;
"this is how it proceeds:--
"'I have therefore decided that, as I have indicated in the initial
sentence of this my will, the prize shall go to the swift. Let me
explain my meaning. Those of my possible heirs who have known me long
are aware that I have devoted considerable time during recent years to
foreign travel. During one of my latest journeys I took the opportunity
to bury a box containing treasure at a place indicated in the map of
Bechuanaland which I have sketched.
"'I now bequeath to him who first succeeds in reaching that spot, and in
finding the treasure, the entire fortune which I possess, and which I
estimate to be the equivalent of the sum quoted above. Those whom I
have authorised by name to compete in this race for wealth are advised
that many qualities of mind and body will be called into requisition by
the winner: such as energy, perseverance, pluck, judgment, acuteness.
Without the determination to employ each and all of these qualities, it
would be useless to undertake the search which must be the toilsome
preliminary to enjoyment of my wealth.
"'The competitors who shall alone be legally competent to inherit from
me are the following:--
"'William John Clutterbuck, nephew.
"'James Strong, nephew.
"'Charles Strong, nephew.
"'John Ellis, cousin.
"'Godfrey Bernard Hewetson, of 13 Enderby Terrace, Streatham, to whom I
am indebted for a service rendered.'"
(This last name is my own.)
"'If none of these five persons shall have succeeded within three years
of my death in finding the buried treasure, my lawyer, Mr. Steggins,
shall have power to seek new instructions within the sealed letter which
has been entrusted to him for that purpose.
"'Each competitor, as above enumerated, shall receive, immediately after
the reading of this my will, one-fifth share of any money found upon my
person or within my house at the time of my decease. To save trouble, I
may add that any such money will be found within my pocket-book; there
is none anywhere besides the notes and change therein contained. The
house and garden will, of course, remain the property of the successful
discoverer of the rest of my estate.'
"The will ends there," said Steggins; "but there is a postscript which I
may read out, though it has no actual bearing upon the matter in hand:--
"'I should like to add' (writes the testator) 'that, since none of my
relatives have ever shown me the slightest affection, or paid me any
attention which was not obviously interested, I should be glad if the
last-named among the competitors--Mr. Godfrey Bernard Hewetson, who has,
at least on one occasion, done me a very signal service--should prove
himself, as I fancy he is as likely as any to do, the successful
competitor. My relatives are, so far as I know them, but poor specimens
of humanity, and little likely to carry away the prize in a competition
requiring such qualities as energy and courage. I have authorised them
to compete, however, as a matter of family duty. Possibly the desire
for gain may transform one or all of them into animated human beings.'"
The faces of those surrounding the table at which Steggins had sat and
read this remarkable document were black enough when he had finished.
One or two men swore audibly. Every one of them scowled at me, as
though I were in some way to blame for the eccentric dispositions, which
had evidently disappointed them.
As for me, I was so dumbfounded by the stupefying thoughts and
considerations to which the recital of Mr. Clutterbuck's dispositions
had given rise, that I think I must have made a poor show as I sat and
blushed and helplessly blinked my eyes, while the others burst into a
torrent of angry conversation.
*CHAPTER IV*
*I ENTER FOR THE RACE*
"Do you consider, Mr. Steggins," said one, "that any British jury would
regard the precious document you have just read as the work of a sane
man?"
"Certainly," replied Steggins; "I don't see how any British jury could
help themselves. It is surely proper that you gentlemen, his only
relatives, should have been accorded equal chances of becoming his heirs
with this other gentleman, in whose favour his sympathies had been
gained."
"That is not the point," said another--one of the Strongs, I think; "the
question is, What right has this Mr. Hewetson to benefit, and whether
undue influence can be proved?"
"Very doubtful indeed, I should say," said Steggins. "I happen to know
that, beyond the fact that Mr. Hewetson saved the life of Mr.
Clutterbuck, as the deceased firmly believed, and afterwards assisted
him in the recovery of certain bank-notes of which he had been robbed,
the testator had no acquaintance whatever with this gentleman; his act
is one of disinterested gratitude."
"How do we know that this person is not in possession of private
information which will enable him to discover the treasure while we are
helplessly searching for it all over Africa?" asked another of the
amiable nephews. The question aroused me from my stupor, and from this
moment I was myself again.
"To suggest such a thing is an insult to the deceased," said Steggins
gravely; "and as for searching all Africa, the little map which you hold
in your hand, together with the footnotes explaining it, affords a
precise guide to the spot, within an acre or so, in which the treasure
is declared to lie buried."
"As to that," I broke in hotly, "allow me to add my assurance that I
know no more about this matter than has been read aloud by Mr. Steggins.
I have no information whatever beyond that which the map and
explanations convey. If any gentleman present still feels doubt as to
my _bona fides_, I shall be grateful if he will kindly mention it." No
one spoke. "As a matter of fact," I continued, "I shall probably take
no part in the search for this problematical treasure. I shall consider
the question, but I shall perhaps decide to remain at home."
I did not say this because the idea of a journey to South Africa was in
any way distasteful to me. On the contrary, nothing, I felt, could
possibly be more congenial than such a trip, especially when combined
with the delightful excitement of a search for hidden treasure.
The fact was that I did not see my way to undertaking the journey, for
the best of reasons. My last fifty pounds were all but spent already; my
one-fifth share of the old gentleman's petty cash could not well amount
to more than thirty pounds (it was actually twenty-eight pounds four
shillings and twopence). How should I equip myself for the enterprise,
or pay my passage to the Cape and the expenses of the trip up-country
afterwards?
My fellow-heirs did not, however, set much faith in my assertion, so I
gathered from their looks, though none of them replied in any way to my
remark. This galled me again, and I added that I intended to consider
the question thoroughly before finally deciding. I should not, I said,
surrender my rights if I could help it!
Before leaving the room, I took the precaution to interrogate Mr.
Steggins as to certain matters: whether, firstly, Mr. Clutterbuck had
actually been in possession of the large sums of money he claimed to
dispose of; and whether, secondly, my own legal position, supposing that
I should be fortunate enough to find the treasure, would be
unassailable; whether, in two words, there was any treasure to find, and
whether the "finder" would be recognised by the law as the "keeper."
Steggins assured me that he knew for a positive fact that a very few
years ago Mr. Clutterbuck had undoubtedly possessed at least as large a
fortune as that named in the will, and that it was extremely unlikely
that he should have spent all or any large portion of it in the interim.
My position would certainly be unassailable. It might be argued that
the journey to South Africa for the purpose of burying his fortune in
order that his heirs might not succeed to it without personal trouble
was the act of an eccentric; but the desire to test the perseverance and
energy of his heirs was sane enough, and the device--if clumsy--was not
an insane one. Mr. Clutterbuck had disliked his nephews, Steggins
explained, and had often declared that he would "make the lazy young
rogues sweat a bit before they touched his money." The will had been
made out before the event which introduced myself to his notice, and my
name had been added.
"Mr. Clutterbuck often expressed the wish," concluded Steggins, "during
the last week or two of his life, that you should be the successful one,
and disappoint these nephews of his, upon whom, as I say, he did not
waste much affection."
And no wonder, thought I, for a more disagreeable-looking set of fellows
than the three nephews I do not think I ever saw. The cousin was an
elderly man, and was a person of a different stamp from the rest, two at
least of whom obviously belonged to that class of society of whom it is
often remarked that one would not care to meet them alone in a dark
lane.
Steggins's remarks were rather encouraging, and I began seriously to
regret that my funds--or, rather, my lack of them--was likely to prove a
stumbling-block to success, or even to any attempt on my part to take a
hand in the extremely "sporting" game which dead Mr. Clutterbuck
proposed to us. The more I thought over it the more I deplored the
poverty which not only stood in the way of my winning this tantalising
race, but which actually made it impossible for me to find the
preliminary entrance fee! And such a prize at stake--oh, why had I not
a few hundred pounds! Truly my luck was abominable!
I returned the same night to Henderson's place in Gloucestershire, and
talked the matter over with my college chum.
To my surprise and great pleasure Henderson, who was a year senior to me
at Oxford and had just taken his degree, received my news with
extraordinary excitement and delight. Not only did he instantly insist
upon my "entering for the race," as he called it, but he insisted also
upon constituting himself my "backer" and trainer, and announced his
intention of coming with me to see fair play.
Henderson had no reason whatever to mind the expense of journey and
equipment. I should pay him back my share, he laughingly declared, out
of the treasure when we found it! He had nothing in the world to detain
him in England at present. On the contrary, he longed for a big travel
before settling down to country life as a Gloucestershire squire. This
business was simply a godsend for both of us!
Needless to say, I was easily persuaded that it was even as Jack
Henderson declared, and that he really desired to accompany me and to
take the risk of my being able to repay him some day for his outlay on
my behalf. As a matter of fact, I am quite as certain that Jack really
wished to go (he was always a sporting character, was Jack Henderson) as
I am that he cared no more whether I ever repaid him my expenses than he
reflected whether these should amount to one hundred pounds or two
thousand.
Actually they came to a good deal, because Jack Henderson insisted upon
doing everything in the best style. We should enjoy a bit of sporting,
he said, after I had found the cash; and therefore we provided ourselves
with heavy rifles for big game, small ones for antelope, shot guns,
revolvers, knives, ammunition enough of every kind to stock a fortress,
and every luxury and convenience that the up-country sportsman in Africa
can possibly expect to require.
What is more, in spite of all the purchases and preparations we made, we
were on board ship within forty-eight hours of my return to
Gloucestershire, fortified with the knowledge that none of my
fellow-competitors could, at all events, have stolen a march upon me in
this, the first move of the campaign; for the _Chepstow Castle_, the
fine steamer in which we had secured berths, was the first vessel that
had left any London dock for the Cape since the day on which Steggins
read out the will and metaphorically fired the pistol which started us
five competitors upon our race.