ENLISTED AGAINST EACH OTHER.
It is early in the evening of the day that has witnessed the events
recorded in the preceding chapters, and the Chief of the detectives is
sitting in his easiest office chair, listening attentively to the words
that fall from the lips of a tall, bronzed, gray-bearded man who sits
opposite him, talking fast and earnestly.
He has been thus talking, and the Chief thus listening, for more than an
hour, and the story is just reaching its conclusion when the stranger
says:
"There, sir, you have the entire case, so far as I know it. What I ask
is something unusual, but what I offer, in compensation, is something
unusual too."
"A queer case, I should say," returns the Chief, half to himself; "and a
difficult one. Twenty years ago a man was murdered--killed by a nail
driven into his skull. Detectives have hunted for the murderer, singly,
in twos and threes. English experts have crossed the ocean to unravel
the mystery and it remains a mystery still. And now, when the secret is
twenty years old, and the assassin dead and buried, perhaps, you come
and ask me for my two best men,--men who have worked together as
brothers--and ask me to set their skill _against each other_, in a
struggle, which, if it ends as you desire, will mean victory and fortune
for the one, defeat and loss of prestige for the other."
"There is no such thing as loss of prestige. A man may bow to a superior
and yet retain his own skill. Plainly, I have come to you as an
honorable man should. I wish to deal with these men through you, if
possible. But they are free agents. What you refuse to do for me, I must
do for myself; and I tell you plainly, that if money can purchase their
services, I will have Van Vernet and Richard Stanhope to work this
case."
"You are frank, sir! But I have observed that, in relating your story,
you have been careful to avoid giving either your own name or the name
of the murdered man."
"As I shall continue to do until I state the case to the two detectives,
_after_ they have enlisted in my service."
The Chief ponders for a time and then says:
"Now, hear my proposition: you are justified in believing that, if there
_is_ a bottom to this ancient mystery, Vernet and Stanhope, singly or
together, are the men to find it. That is my belief also. As for your
idea of putting them on their mettle, by offering so magnificent a
reward to the man who succeeds, _that_ is not bad--for you and the man
who wins. Vernet and Stanhope have, this very day, taken in hand two
cases,--working separately, understand. If you will wait in patience
until these cases are finished, you shall have the men from this
office,--if they will accept the case."
"Put my proposition before the two men at once. When I know that I shall
have their services, I can wait in patience until their duty of the
present is done."
"Then," said the Chief rising, "the question can soon be settled; Vernet
is in the outer office; Stanhope will soon be here. You will find the
evening papers upon that desk; try and entertain yourself while I put
your case before Vernet."
Ten minutes later, Van Vernet was standing before his Chief, listening
with bent head, compressed lip, and glowing cheek, to the story of the
man who was murdered twenty years before, and to the splendid proposal
of the tall stranger. When it was all told, and the Chief paused for a
reply, the young detective moved a pace nearer and said with decision:
"Tell him that I accept the proposition. A man can't afford to lose so
splendid a chance for friendship's sake. Besides," his eyes darkening
and his mouth twitching convulsively, "it's time for Dick and I to find
out _who is the better man_!"
Returning to the inner office, the Chief of the force found his strange
patron walking fiercely up and down the room, with a newspaper grasped
firmly in his hand, and on his countenance traces of agitation.
"Look!" he cried, approaching and forcing the paper upon the astonished
Chief; "see what a moment of waiting has brought me!"
And he pointed to a paragraph beginning:
WANTED. INFORMATION OF ANY SORT CONCERNING one Arthur Pearson,
etc. etc.
"An advertisement, I see;" said the Chief. "But I fail to understand why
it should thus excite you."
"A moment ago it was my intention to keep the identity of the murdered
man a secret. This," indicating the paper by a quick gesture, "changes
the face of affairs. After twenty years, some one inquires after Arthur
Pearson--"
"Then Arthur Pearson is--"
"The man who was murdered near the Marais des Cygnes!"
"And the child?"
"I never knew her name until now. No doubt it is the little girl that
was in Pearson's care."
"What became of the child?"
"I never knew."
"And how does this discovery affect your movements?"
"I will tell you; but, first, you saw Vernet?"
"Yes; and he accepts."
"Good! That notice was inserted either by some friend of Pearson's, or
by the child's father, John Ainsworth."
"What do you know of him?"
"Nothing; I never met him. But, as soon as you have seen Stanhope, and
I am sure that these two sharp fellows are prepared to hunt down poor
Pearson's assassins, I _will_ meet him, if the notice is his, for I am
going to Australia."
"Ah!"
"Yes; I can do no good here. To-morrow morning, business will take me
out of the city. When I return, in two days, let me have Stanhope's
answer."
When Richard Stanhope appeared at the office that night a little later
than usual, the story of Arthur Pearson and his mysterious death was
related for the third time that day, and the strange and munificent
offer of the stranger, for the second time rehearsed by the Chief.
"What do you think of it, my boy? Are you anxious to try for a fortune?"
"No, thank you."
It was said as coolly as if he were declining a bad cigar.
"Consider, Dick."
"There is no need. Van and I have pulled together too long to let a mere
matter of money come between us. _He_ would never accept such a
proposition."
The Chief bit his lip and remained silent.
"Or if he did," went on Stanhope, "he would not work against me. Tell
your patron that _with_ Van Vernet I will undertake the case. He may
make Van his chief, and I will gladly assist. _Without_ Van as my rival,
I will work it alone; but _against_ him, as his rival for honors and
lucre, _never_!"
The Chief slowly arose, and resting his hands upon the shoulders of the
younger man, looked in his face with fatherly pride.
"Dick, you're a splendid fellow, and a shrewd detective," he said, "but
you have a weakness. You study strangers, but you trust your friends
with absolute blindness. Van is ambitious."
"So am I."
"He loves money."
"A little too well, I admit."
"If he should accept this offer?"
"But he won't."
"If he _should_;" persisted the Chief.
"If such a thing were possible,--if, without a friendly consultation,
and a fair and square send off, he should take up the cudgel against me,
then--"
"Then, Dick?"
Richard Stanhope's eyes flashed, and his mouth set itself in firm lines.
"_Then_," he said, "I would measure my strength against his as a
detective; but always as a friend, and never to his injury!"
"And, Dick, if, in the thick of the strife, Van forgets his friendship
for you and becomes your enemy?"
"Then, as I am only human, I should be his enemy too. But that will not
happen."
"I hope not; I hope not, my boy. But--Van Vernet has already accepted
the stranger's proposition."
Stanhope leaped to his feet.
"What!" he cried, "has Van _agreed_ to work against me--without a word
to me--and so soon!"
His lips trembled now, and his eyes searched those of his Chief with the
eager, inquiring look of a grieved child.
"It is as I say, Stanhope."
[Illustration: "What, has Van _agreed_ to work against me--without a
word to me--and so soon!"--page 50.]
"Then," and he threw back his head and instantly resumed his usual
look of careless indifference, "tell your patron, whoever he may be,
that _I am his man_, for one year, or for twenty!"