IN THE CAUSE OF JUSTICE
"Now Gracie," said Dick, as they wended their way to a small "jobbing"
printer with whom he was acquainted; he himself had spent a few weeks
in a printing office, and, as a Jack of all trades, could do something
in the way of picking up stamps. "Now, Gracie, pay particular
attention to what I'm going to say."
"_I'd_ like to have a word first, please," she said.
"Go ahead."
"Who is that young gentleman with the white face that the young lady's
so fond of?"
"The young lady's husband, the son of Mr. Samuel Boyd."
"Mr. Reginald. I thought so. He don't look as if he could have done
it."
"Done what?"
"You know. The murder."
"He did not do it, Gracie. I suppose you heard Dr. Vinsen say he did."
"He was talking to mother, but he didn't say it outright----"
"Ah, the coward! I hope you don't believe a word that drops from his
lips."
"_I_ don't; but mother does. Don't blame her, Dick; she can't help
it."
"No, poor thing. I pity her from my heart, torn this way and that as
she is. But she's not the only one whose heart is aching over this
affair. There's care and sorrow yonder." He pointed over his shoulder
in the direction of Aunt Rob's house. "Gracie," he said energetically,
"I'd pour out my heart's blood, drop by drop, if by doing so I could
clear that trouble away!"
"You're fond of her, Dick."
He glanced furtively at the sallow impassive face raised to his. "She
is my cousin, and Aunt Rob has been a mother to me. I've lived with
them longer than I can remember. The last words I said to her just now
were that I wanted to see her happy with the man she loved. That's
what I'm working for, her happiness--that, and justice. Shall we go
into partnership, you and I?"
"Yes, Dick, please."
"Your hand on it."
They shook hands, and he resumed his old bright manner.
"There never was a successful partnership without implicit confidence
between the partners. Do you understand?"
"They mustn't be suspicious of one another."
"That's it. There must be perfect trust between them. I believe in
you, Gracie, and I'd trust you with my life." Gracie's black eyes
gleamed. "You're what I call thorough, and you've got the pluck of
twenty men. We're sailing, you and I, in the ship Endeavour for the
port Safety. There's only one captain in that ship, as there must be
in all properly commanded ships when they're sailing through dangerous
rocks. Now, who's the captain?"
"You."
"Good. I'm captain, and you're first mate, and no captain could desire
a better. Says the captain to the first mate, 'Mate,' says he, 'I hear
as how your father's disappeared, and as how they're saying hard
things of him. That's what oughtn't to be, and we'll mend it. He's got
to be found, your father is, and brought for'ard,' says the captain,
'so that he may knock them hard words down their con-founded throats.'
'That's so,' says the mate--it's you that's speaking now, you know"--
Gracie nodded--"'that's so,' says the mate, 'and that's what I've made
up my mind to do, and what I'm going to do. I've had a dream where
he's to be found,' says the first mate----"
"More than one, Dick--captain, I mean," said Gracie.
"Right you are, my hearty, and there's many a dream that's come true,
and likewise many that haven't. 'But it isn't because you've had a
dream,' says the captain, 'that _I_ shouldn't have a shy at the
discovery of him, and that's what I've set _my_ mind on, if so be as
you've no objections,' he says. 'Objections!' says the first mate,
'_I've_ no objections'"--Here Dick broke off. "I suppose he hasn't,
Gracie?"
"No, Dick, he hasn't. He thinks it more than kind of the captain."
"Love your heart, I knew you wouldn't have. 'And how are you going to
set about it?' says the first mate. 'Why,' says the captain, planting
his wooden leg firmly on the deck--did I tell you he had a wooden
leg?"
"No, you didn't," said Gracie, quite gravely.
"Well, I just remember that he had. 'Why,' says he, planting his
wooden leg firmly on the deck, 'seeing as how that good woman, Mrs.
Abel Death, and Gracie, and all the other little ones, are more
unhappy than words can express because father doesn't come home, and
as how it may be to some persons' interests to keep him _from_ coming
home, I'm thinking of offering a reward to anybody that can give
information as to his whereabouts--in point of fact to find him and
restore him to the bosom of his family.' That's what the captain says
to the mate--because he wants to act fair and square by him, and not
do anything behind his back as might make him doubt that he _wasn't_
acting fair and square--and he asks the mate what he thinks of the
idea."
"To _find_ him, captain, not to _catch_ him," said Gracie, slowly,
with a strong accent on the two words.
"That is how the captain puts it. To find him, and restore him to the
bosom of his family."
Gracie nodded, and pondered before speaking. "If the mate--that's me,
Dick--found father, would _he_ have the reward?"
"As a matter of course."
"Who'd pay it to him?"
"It would be paid through the captain."
"Through you?"
"Through me."
"Then there'd be sure to be no cheating, and the mate could give it to
mother."
"Could do what he pleased with it," said Dick, dropping his nautical,
and coming back to his original, self, "and we're going straight to
the printer to get the bill printed."
"How much is the reward, Dick?"
"Two hundred pounds."
"Oh, my!" Gracie caught her breath. "I don't believe father was ever
worth as much as that in all his life. That's a big lot of money,
ain't it?"
"A tidyish sum. You don't object?"
"You can't do nothing wrong, Dick."
"Then the partnership goes on swimmingly, and you won't mind seeing it
on the walls. There will be another bill, offering a larger reward for
the conviction of the murderer. All we want to get at is the truth, so
that the innocent may be cleared and the guilty punished. I'm of the
opinion it will surprise Dr. Vinsen. The slimy reptile! I'd like to
twist his neck for him."
"I'd like to see you do it," said Gracie, not a muscle of her face
moving.
"You're something like a partner. Have you any idea where the reptile
lives?"
"No."
"You could find out, I dare say."
"Oh, yes, I can find out if you want me to," said Gracie, quite
confidently.
"That's your sort. Only don't look for him in the reptile house at the
Zoo, where his relations live. I want to know ever so many things
about him. Whether he lives alone, or has a wife. Whether he has any
children, and whether they have little bald heads with halos round
them like their venerable parent. Whether he practises as a doctor,
and what his neighbours think of him, etc., etc., etc. It's a large
order, Gracie."
"I'll do it, Dick."
"You're a brick. Here we are at the printer's. But you mustn't go away
without the needful for current ex's. You might want to jump into a
bus, and if you keep out all day you'll want something to eat. Hold
out your hand--one shilling, two shillings, a sixpence, and some
coppers. If you've anything to tell me come to Aunt Rob's house any
time between six and eight. I've a particular reason for not wanting
to be seen with you in Catchpole Square to-night. Here are a couple
more coppers for brandyballs for the babies at home. Now, off with
you, my little detective. No sleeping partners in our firm. You and I,
working together, will make Scotland Yard sit up. We'll beat the
Criminal Investigation Department, even if it has a dozen Dr. Vinsens
to back it up. Here's a kiss for good luck, Gracie."
"Thank you, Dick," said Gracie, and away she scudded, proud of the
task entrusted to her.
Neither of them had noticed that they had been followed in a shambling
sort of way by an old man in list slippers with a skull cap on his
head, sucking at a pipe which, in his close observance of them, he had
allowed to go out. He was blear-eyed, and was cursed with a spasmodic
twitching on the right side of his face, which imparted to his
features a ghastly mirth; and close as was his observance of them he
had so managed as not to draw their attention upon him. During the
last moment or two he had shuffled so near to them as to brush their
clothes as he passed, and had heard the concluding words of their
conversation.
"'Thank you, Dick,'" he echoed, with a half-tipsy lurch, as Gracie
flew away and Dick entered the printing office. "Dick! It's the man
himself. Who'll give _me_ a kiss for good luck?"
He laughed and twitched, and with his eye on the door through which
Dick had passed, proceeded with trembling fingers to refill his pipe.
There was a fair stock of "jobbing" type in the printing office, and
the master, a working printer himself, was the very man Dick needed
for the job in hand, trade being rather slack. In imitation of the
official announcement of a reward in the Great Porter Square murder
Dick had placed a Royal Coat of Arms at the top of his bill, but the
printer argued him out of it, being doubtful whether a private
individual had the right to use it for the detection of the
perpetrator of a criminal offence. But for the better publicity of the
reward Dick was bent upon a pictorial illustration, and out of a lot
of old woodcuts they fished a rough wood-block of the figure of
Justice, blindfold, holding the scales, which suggested the line
beneath, "In the Cause of Justice." Within an hour the type was set
up, corrected, locked in its chase, and on the press, the paper was
damped, the "devil," a young apprentice, was wielding his roller, and
the master printer, his sleeves tucked up to his shoulders, was
pulling off the posters, which read thus:
At the top the figure of even-handed Justice; then--
_IN THE CAUSE OF JUSTICE_.
_MURDER_.
_£500 REWARD_.
_Whereas, on the Morning of Saturday, the 9th of March, the Dead Body
of Mr. Samuel Boyd was Found on his Premises in Catchpole Square under
such circumstances as prove that he was Murdered, and Medical
Testimony has been given to the effect that the Murder must have been
Committed either on the night of the 1st or the 2nd of March. The
above Reward will be paid to any Person who shall give such
Information as shall lead to the Discovery and Conviction of the
Murderer or Murderers_.
_Evidence may be given to Mr. Lamb, 42, High Street, N., Solicitor to
Mr. Reginald Boyd, Son of the Murdered Gentleman, who will pay the
Reward, or at any Police Station in the United Kingdom_.
The services of a bill-sticker not being immediately procurable, a
large tin of paste had been mixed while the bills were being printed.
Begging the loan of a pasting brush, and begging also the loan of the
"devil" to carry the paste tin, Dick, now more than ever a Jack of all
trades, issued forth to stick the bills himself, leaving behind him
the copy of the poster offering a reward for the discovery of Abel
Death. He was pasting the first of the bills on a dead wall when he
saw the figure of the old man in list slippers and skull cap standing
by his side.
"Hallo!" he said, peering down at the twitching face, with its
expression of ghastly mirth.
"Hallo!" said the old man, peering up at the flushed, handsome face of
the bill-sticker.