greatly sobered by his nap as well as by what he had heard. He rose and
followed the plotters, but missed them in the crowd outside. In his
anxiety to overtake them he ran somewhat violently against Tommy Splint,
and thus arrested him, as we have said, in the pursuit of pleasure.
"Hallo, Thunderbolt!" exclaimed the boy sternly, as he started back and
doubled his fists, "who let _you_ out o' Noogate?"
The thief was about to pass without deigning a reply, when, glancing at
the small questioner, he suddenly stopped and held out his hand.
"I say, Splint, is it _you_ I've run into?"
"Well, it's uncommon like me. Any'ow, not a twin brother, I s'pose it
must be myself. But I hain't got the pleasure o' _your_ acquaintance as
I knows on."
"What! Don't you remember Trumps?"
"No, I don't remember Trumps, an', wot's more, I don't b'lieve from the
look of 'im that any of Trumps's family or friends wants to remember
'im."
The possibility that the boy might remember Trumps was not so unlikely
after all, for, being of a highly social disposition, Tommy was pretty
well acquainted with, and known to, nearly all the thieves and
pickpockets of the locality. Indeed he would certainly have been one of
themselves but for garret-garden influences.
"Well, Tommy," said the thief confidentially, "I remember _you_, an' I
wants a little conversation with you."
"No, you don't" returned the boy, retreating; "you wants my wipe, or
puss, or ticker, you do--or suthin' o' that sort--but you've come to the
wrong shop, you have."
"But really, Tommy, I've got summat to say to 'ee about your noo friend
from Scotland, David Laidlaw."
"How d'ee know he's _my_ friend?" asked Tommy, becoming suddenly
interested.
"'Cause I've seen you jawin' with 'im; an' I've seen you go up together
to visit chimney-pot Liz an' Susy; an'--"
"Oh! you knows chimley-pot Liz an' Susy, do ye? But of course you does.
Everybody as knows anythink knows _them_."
"Ay, lad, an' I knows lawyer Lockhart too," said Trumps, with a peculiar
look; "him that owns the 'ouses 'ereabouts, an' draws the rents--"
"_Draws_ the rents!" interrupted the boy, with a look of scorn;
"_screws_ the rents, you mean."
"Jus' so, boy--screws 'em. Ah, 'e _is_ a thief, is lawyer Lockhart."
"Come, if that's so, you've no occasion to be 'ard on 'im, Trumps, for
you're in the same boat, you know."
"No, I ain't," replied Trumps, with virtuous indignation, "for 'e's a
_mean_ thief!"
"Oh, an' you're a 'ighminded one, I s'pose," returned the boy, with a
hearty chuckle; "but come along, young man. If you've suthin' to tell
me about Da-a-a-vid Laidlaw I'm your man. This way."
He led the man down the alley, across the court, round the corner, and
up the stair to the landing.
"There you are," he said, "this is my snuggery--my boodwar, so to speak.
Sot down, an' out with it."
Seated there, the thief, in low confidential and solemn tones, related
what he had seen and heard in the public-house, and told of his own
acquaintance with and interest in Laidlaw.
"The willains!" exclaimed Tommy. "An' wot d'ee think they're agoin' to
do?"
"Screw 'im some'ow, an' git 'im out o' the way."
"But w'y?"
"That's wot I wants to ask _you_, lad. I knows nothing more than I've
told 'ee."
"We must save Da-a-a-vid!" exclaimed Tommy in a tragic manner, clutching
his hair and glaring.
Tommy's sense of the ludicrous was too strong for him, even in the most
anxious times, and the notion of him and Trumps saving anybody
overwhelmed him for a moment; nevertheless, he really was excited by
what he had heard.
"Come--come with me," he cried, suddenly seizing Trumps by the sleeve of
his shabby coat and half dragging him up to the garret, where he found
old Liz and Susy in the garden on the roof.
"Allow me to introdooce a friend, granny. 'E ain't much to look at, but
never mind, 'e's a good 'un to go."
Old Liz and Susy had become too much accustomed to low life in its worst
phases to be much troubled by the appearance of their visitor, and when
he had explained the object of his visit they became deeply interested.
"You think, then," said Liz, after listening to the whole story, "that
lawyer Lockhart intends to hide a 50 pound note in Mr Laidlaw's
travelling bag, and say he stole it?"
"Yes, ma'am; that's what I think."
"And for what purpose?" asked Susy with some anxiety.
"To git him convicted an' sent to prison, miss," replied Trumps
promptly. "I know lawyer Lockhart--we call 'im liar Lockhart in the--
well, ahem! an' as I was sayin', 'e's a villain as'll stick at nothing.
If 'e sets 'is 'art on gittin' Mr Laidlaw into prison 'e'll git 'im in;
for what purpus, of course, _I_ don't know."
After further discussion of the subject it was finally arranged that
Tommy Splint should go straight to the house of Mr Spivin, where the
Scotsman lodged, and reconnoitre.
"And be sure, Tommy," whispered Susan at the head of the stair when he
was about to leave, "that you find out all about this horrid plot. We
_must_ save him. He saved _me_, you know," she added, with a blush.
"Yes, we _must_ save 'im," said the boy in a tone of determination that
inspired confidence in the girl, even though it made her laugh.
Trumps accompanied Tommy part of the way, and told him that he knew some
ugly things about lawyer Lockhart that might get that gentleman into
difficulties if he could only prove them, but he couldn't quite see his
way to that, not being learned enough in the law.
"You see, Tommy--"
"Thomas, if you please," interrupted the urchin with dignity. "My
hintimates calls me Tommy, but you ain't one o' _them_ yet, Mr Trumps.
You ain't even on my wisitin' list. P'r'aps I may promote yer to that
some day, but--it depends. Now, look 'ere, slimey-coat--if any one
larned in the law was inclined to pump you, could you be pumped?"
With a remarkably sly look Trumps replied, "Yes--for a consideration!"
"All right, young man. Give me your card; or, if you hain't got one,
let me know w'ere you 'ang hout."
Having been satisfied on this point, Tommy told the thief that he had no
further use for him, and as he wished to cross London Bridge alone, he
(Trumps) was free to make himself scarce.
CHAPTER TEN.
DETECTIVE DOINGS.
For a considerable time the boy prowled about the house of Mr Spivin in
the hope of seeing David Laidlaw go out or in; but our Scot did not
appear. At last a servant-girl came to the open door with a broom in
her hand to survey the aspect of things in general. Tommy walked
smartly up to her, despite the stern gaze of a suspicious policeman on
the opposite side of the street.
"My sweet gal," he said affably touching his cap, "is Capting Laidlaw
within?"
"There's no _Captain_ Laidlaw here," answered the girl sharply; "there
_was_ a Daivid Laidlaw, but--"
"Da-a-a-vid, my dear, not Daivid. The gen'l'm'n hisself told me, and
surely 'e knows 'ow to prenounce 'is own name best."
"You've a deal of cheek, boy--anyway, Laidlaw 'as bin took up, an' 'e's
now in prison."
The sudden look of consternation on the boy's face caused the girl to
laugh.
"D'ee know w'ere they've took 'im to?"
"No, I don't."
"But surely you don't b'lieve 'e's guilty?" said the boy, forgetting
even his humorous tendencies in his anxiety about his friend.
"No, I don't" said the girl, becoming suddenly earnest, "for Mary an' me
saw--"
"Martha-a-a!" shouted a female voice from the interior of the house at
that moment.
The girl ran in. At the same time the suspicious policeman came up
with, "Now then, youngster, move on."
"Move off you mean, bobby. Hain't you been to school yet, stoopid?"
cried the boy, applying his thumb to his nose and moving his fingers in
what he styled a thumbetrical manner as he ran away.
But poor Tommy Splint was in no jesting mood. He had been impressed
with the idea from infancy--rightly or wrongly--that once in the
clutches of the law it was no easy matter to escape from them; and he
was now utterly incapable of deciding what his next step should be. In
this difficulty he was about to return disconsolate to Cherub Court when
it occurred to him that it might be worth while to pay a visit to the
good ship _Seacow_, and obtain the opinion of Sam Blake.
Although it was broad day and the sun was glowing gloriously in an
unclouded sky, he found Sam down in a dark hole, which he styled his
bunk, fast asleep.
Sam did not move when Tommy shook and woke him. He merely opened his
eyes quietly and said, "All right, my lad; what's up?" After hearing
the boy's story to the end he merely said, "Mind your helm--clear out!"
flung off his blankets, and bounded to the floor like an acrobat.
Being already in his shirt, short drawers, and stockings, it did not
take quite a minute to don trousers, vest and coat. Another minute
sufficed for the drawing on of boots, fastening a necktie, running a
broken comb through his front locks, and throwing on a glazed hat. Two
minutes all told! Men whose lives often depend on speed acquire a
wonderful power of calmly-rapid action.
"What d'ee say to it, Sam?" asked Tommy as they hurried along the
streets.
"Hold on! avast! belay! I'm thinkin'!" said Sam. The boy accordingly
held on, avasted, and belayed until his companion had thought it out.
"Yes, that's it," said the sailor at last. "I'll go an' see Colonel--
Colonel--what's 'is name? old Liz's friend--Burntwood, is it, or--"
"Brentwood," said Tommy.
"That's it--Brentwood. You don't know his address, do you? No? Never
mind; we'll go to Cherub Court an' get it, and then make sail for the
Colonel's. I've no more notion which way to steer, lad, than the man in
the moon; but the Colonel will be sure to know how to lay our course,
an' he'll be willin', I've no doubt first for his own sake, seein' that
this Lockhart is his own lawyer; second, for old Liz's sake, seein' that
her affairs are involved in it; and third, for the sake of his country,
if he's a good and true man."
The sailor was not disappointed. Colonel Brentwood did not indeed
himself know exactly how to act but he knew that the best thing to do in
the circumstances was to seek aid from those who did know. He therefore
went straight to Scotland Yard--that celebrated centre of the London
Police Force--and put the matter before the authorities there. A
detective, named Dean, was appointed to take the job in hand.
"John," observed Mrs Brentwood to her husband, prophetically, after an
interview with the detective at their own house, "you may depend upon it
that Mr Dean will discover that more things are amiss than this affair
of the Scotsman and dear old nurse."
"Possibly--indeed probably," returned the Colonel; "but what makes you
think so?"
"The fact that no thorough scoundrel ever yet confined himself to one or
two pieces of villainy."
"But Lockhart is not yet proved to be a thorough scoundrel. You have
condemned the poor man, my dear, without trial, and on insufficient
evidence."
"Insufficient evidence!" echoed Dora indignantly. "What more do you
want? Has he not systematically robbed dear old Liz? Are not the
Railway Share Lists and Reports open to inspection?"
"True, Dora, true. Be not indignant. I have admitted that you may be
right. Our detective will soon find out. He has the calm,
self-confident, penetrating look of a man who could, if possible, screw
something out of nothing."
Whether or not Mr Dean possessed the power ascribed to him is yet to be
seen. We have not space to follow him through the whole of the
serpentine sinuosities of his investigations, but we will watch him at
one or two salient points of his course.
First of all he visited Tommy Splint, who, in the privacy of his
"boodwar" revealed to him, as he thought, every scrap of information
about the affair that he possessed. To all of this Mr Dean listened in
perfect silence, patiently, and with a smile of universal benevolence.
He not only appreciated all the boy's commentaries and jests and
prophecies on the situation, but encouraged the full development of his
communicative disposition. Tommy was charmed. Never before had he met
with such an audience--except, perhaps, in Susy.
When the boy had fairly run himself out Mr Dean proceeded to pump and
squeeze, and the amount of relevant matter that he pumped and squeezed
out of him, in cross-questioning, was so great, that Tommy was lost in a
mixture of admiration and humility. You see, up to that time he had
thought himself rather a knowing fellow; but Mr Dean managed to remove
the scales from his eyes.
"Now, my boy," said the detective, after having squeezed him quite flat,
and screwed the very last drop out of him, "you are quite sure, I
suppose, as to Mr Trumps's words--namely, that he knew Mrs Morley--
chimney-pot Liz, as you call her--"
"Parding. I never called her that--chimley-pot is her name."
"Well, chimley-pot be it--and that he had formerly known Mr Lockhart
but did not say when or where he had first become acquainted with
either; yet Trumps's peculiar look and manner when speaking of the
lawyer led you to think he knew more about him than he chose to tell?"
"Right you air, sir. That's 'ow it stands."
"Good; and in reference to the servant-girl--you are sure that she
became suddenly very earnest when she said she believed Laidlaw was not
guilty, and that she and some one named Mary had `seen something,' but
you don't know what, owing to a sudden interruption?"
"Right again, sir."
"Now, then," said Mr Dean, rising, "we will go up and see Mrs Morley."
They found the old woman alone, knitting in her rustic chair in her
floral bower on the roof. Mr Dean sat down to have a chat and Tommy
seated himself on a stool to gaze and listen, for he was fascinated,
somehow, by the detective.
It was really interesting to observe the tact with which the man
approached his subject and the extreme patience with which he listened
to the somewhat garrulous old woman.
Being a Briton he began, of course, with the weather, but slid quickly
and naturally from that prolific subject to the garden, in connection
with which he displayed a considerable knowledge of horticulture--but
this rather in the way of question than of comment. To slide from the
garden to the gardener was very easy as well as natural; and here Mr
Dean quite won the old woman's heart by his indirect praise of Susy's
manipulation of plants and soils. To speak of Susy, without referring
to Susy's early history, would have been to show want of interest in a
very interesting subject. Mr Dean did not err in this respect. From
Susy's mother he naturally referred to the family in which she and old
Liz had been in service, and to the return of the only surviving member
of it to England.
All this was very interesting, no doubt, but it did not throw much light
into the mind of Mr Dean, until old Liz mentioned the fact that Mr
Lockhart, besides being solicitor to the Brentwoods, was also solicitor
to old Mr Weston, who had left his property to Colonel Brentwood. She
also said that she feared, from what Mrs Brentwood had recently said to
her, there was some difficulty about the will, which was a pity, as the
only people she knew besides Mr Lockhart who knew anything about it
were a footman named Rogers and a butler named Sutherland, both of whom
had been witnesses to the will; but the footman had gone to the bad, and
the butler had gone she knew not where.
Then Mr Dean began to smell another rat, besides that which he was just
then in pursuit of, for the Colonel had incidentally mentioned to him
the circumstance of the estate passing away from him, owing to a new
will having been recently discovered. Although the matter was not the
detective's present business, he made a mental note of it.
After quitting the garden, and promising soon to return, the detective
had an interview with Mr Trumps in the parlour of the thieves'
missionary. Many a fallen and apparently lost man and woman had been
brought to the Saviour in that parlour by that missionary--the same whom
we have introduced to the reader in the thieves' den. Through the
medium of Tommy Splint the interview was brought about, and no sooner
did Trumps ascertain the object that Dean had in view than he became
suddenly confidential.
"Now, look here," he said, when he found himself alone with Mr Dean, "I
knows more about them Brentwoods and Westons than you think for."
"No doubt you do; and I suppose you wish to sell your knowledge at the
highest possible figure," said Dean, with a very slight smile.
"You're wrong for once," returned Trumps. "If you'd said that to me two
days ago, I'd 'ave said `yes;' but I've 'eard things in this blessed
room w'ich 'as made me change my mind. You're welcome to all I knows
for nothing."
Mr Dean did not believe in sudden conversion, nevertheless he expressed
gratification. Being what the Yankees call 'cute, he avoided anything
like eagerness in gaining information.
"My business here, however," he said, "is to get information about that
Scotsman, you know, and the charge of theft by Mr Lockhart. We believe
Laidlaw to be innocent and, understanding that you think as we do, and
that you know something about him, we hope you may be able to help us."
From this point Mr Dean began to pump and squeeze, and Trumps proved
worthy of his name in the way he submitted to both processes. At last,
when nothing more was to be got Mr Dean said, in a somewhat careless
way, "You are acquainted, I believe, with old Mrs Morley--chimney-pot
Liz, they call her--are you not?"
"Yes, I am. I've known her long. Knew her when I was footman in a
family connected with the Brentwoods."
"Oho!" thought Mr Dean with sudden surprise, for he began to smell more
of his second rat, but he looked stolid; said nothing; did not move a
muscle; merely nodded his head gently as if to say, go on.
"Now I know what you're driving at," continued Trumps, with a very
knowing wink, "an' I'll help you. First place, my name ain't Trumps."
"I know that--it's Rodgers," said the detective.
"Whew! how d'ee know _that_?" exclaimed the thief in extreme surprise.
"We detectives know everything," said Dean.
"Oh! then there's no need for me to tell you anything more," returned
Trumps, _alias_ Rodgers, with a grin.
"Well, I don't know exactly everything," returned Dean; "but I do know--
at least I guess--that you were a footman in the service of Richard
Weston, Esquire, of Weston Hall, in Kent; that the butler's name was
Sutherland, and that you and he were witnesses to Mr Weston's will."
"Just so. You're right."
"Now, are you aware," said Mr Dean, "that Colonel Brentwood has lost,
or is going to lose, his estate because a new will by Richard Weston has
been found, leaving it to another man?"
"No, I did not know that, but that clears up to me the mystery of the
will that I witnessed. You must know that when we were witnessing the
will, Sutherland and me both noticed that it was eight pages of big
paper, and that it seemed to have two beginnings--one bein' in the
middle. Master couldn't see well, an' was very weak at the time--so
weak that when he came to the last page the pen fell out of his hand and
only half of the last name was signed. Mr Lockhart said that would do,
however, an' we witnessed it. Master never completed the signature, for
he took to his bed that very day, and no one ever saw him put pen to
paper again. Sutherland often spoke to me about that, and wondered if a
will with an imperfect signature would pass. Hows'ever, it was none of
our business, so we forgot about it, and soon after Sutherland went to
stay with a family in Pimlico as butler, where I think he is now. As
for me--"
"Yes, I know," said Dean significantly; "you need not recall that just
now. Can you give me the name and address of the family in Pimlico?"
"Good; now then," said Mr Dean after booking his information, "I'll
want to see you again, so don't get yourself into scrapes, and keep your
tongue quiet. Your missionary will help you, I have no doubt.
Meanwhile, I will go and pay a visit to a certain Martha who lives on
the other side of the river."
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
PUMPING AND SQUEEZING--THE GARRET CLASS, ETCETERA.
When Mr Dean succeeded, with some difficulty, in obtaining a private
interview with Mr Spivin's servant Martha, he proceeded with much
politeness and subtlety to pump and squeeze her.
And it may be remarked here that Mr Dean had what Martha afterwards
styled "a way with him" that was quite irresistible, insomuch that she
was led, somehow, to speak of things she never meant to mention, and to
reveal things she never intended to confess.
"You see, sir," she said, "it's the dooty of me an' Mary to do the
bedrooms w'en the family's at breakfast. Well, that morning we went as
usual to Mr Laidlaw's room first, because 'e's quick with 'is meals an'
wants 'is boots put in 'is room so as he may get out immediately. Mr
Laidlaw 'as no luggage, sir, only a shoulder-bag, an' it was lyin' open
on the table, so me an' Mary looked into it just to--to--"
"To see that nothing had tumbled out," suggested Mr Dean. "I
understand."
"Just so, sir," assented Martha; "and there was nothink in it but a
spare shirt rolled up, and a pair of socks, and a small Bible--no money
or watch or anythink that would break even if it did tumble out,--'is
shavin' things and all that being on the dressin'-table--so--"
"So your mind was relieved, Martha--well, go on."
"But as we was agoin' to close the bag," continued the girl, "we
observed an inner pocket, an' Mary says, p'raps there was a love-letter
in it! I laughed an' said, `Let's look an' see.' So we looked an' saw
nothink."
"You both looked and were quite sure of that?" asked Mr Dean.
"Yes, quite sure, for we both felt the pocket all round as well as
looked into it."
"Well, go on."
"Then we shut the bag, and after we had finished the room, we was just
goin' out, when master he ran up-stairs as if he was in a hurry. He
came into the room with a bit of paper in 'is 'and, somethink like a
bank note, but he started on seein' us, an' crumpled up the paper an'
stuffed it in 'is pocket. At the same time 'e got very angry, scolded
us for being so slow, and ordered us off to the other rooms. Not ten
minutes after that in comes Mr Lockhart, the lawyer, with two
policemen, an' seizes Mr Laidlaw, who was still at 'is breakfast. At
first he got very angry an' shoved one policemen over the sofa and the
other into the coal-scuttle, at the same time sayin' in a growly voice,
`I think--'ee've--aw--geen--mad--thee--gither'--oh, I can't speak
Scotch!" exclaimed Martha, bursting into a laugh.
"Better not try, my dear," said Dean, with a peculiar smile.
"Well, then," continued Martha, on recovering herself, "when the
policemen got up again Mr Laidlaw said he had no intention of running
away (only 'e said rinnin' awa'), and that he would go with them quietly
if they'd only be civil ('e called it seevil!), and assured them they
had made a mistake. They _was_ more civil after that, for Mr Laidlaw
'ad doubled 'is fists an' looked, oh my! like a Bengal tiger robbed of
its young ones. So they all went straight to the bedroom, and me an'
Mary followed with master and missis and the waiters, an' they searched
all round the room, coming to the bag last though it was the only thing
on the table, and right under their noses, an sure enough they found a
50 pound note there in the little pocket!"
"And what said the Scotsman to that?" asked Mr Dean, with a slight
grin.
"He said, turning to master, `It was you did that--'ee--blagyird!'"
cried Martha, again bursting into laughter at her Scotch. "And then,"
continued Martha, "one of the policemen said 'e 'ad seen Mr Laidlaw not
long ago in company with a well-known thief, and the other one swore 'e
'ad seen 'im the same night in a thieves' den, and that 'e was
hevidently on a friendly footin' wi' them for 'e 'ad refused to quit the
place, and was hinsolent. At this lawyer Lockhart shook 'is 'ead and
said 'e thought it was a bad case, an' the poor Scotsman seemed so took
aback that 'e said nothink--only stared from one to another, and went
off quietly to prison."