SKIRMISHING
On the following morning the gentlemen at Fair Oaks were astir at
an unusually early hour, and immediately after breakfast held a brief
conference. It was decided to offer a heavy reward for the
apprehension of the murderer of Hugh Mainwaring, while a lesser
reward was to be offered for information leading to identification
and arrest of the guilty party. Preparations were also to be made
for the funeral, which would take place the next day, and which, in
accordance with the wishes of Ralph Mainwaring, was to be strictly
private.
Their conference at an end, Ralph Mainwaring ordered the carriage to
take himself, Mr. Whitney, and the secretary to the depot.
"I believe I will ride down with you," said Mr. Merrick.
"Certainly; plenty of room. Going to the city?"
"Yes; but not with you gentlemen. We will part company at the
depot and I will take another car."
"How are you getting on, Mr. Merrick?" inquired Mr. Thorton.
"As well as can be expected, all things considered," was the
non-committal reply.
"Going to be a slow case, I'm afraid," commented Ralph Mainwaring,
shaking his head in a doubtful way, while Mr. Thornton added
jokingly,--
"We've got some mighty fine fellows over home there at the Yard; if
you should want any help, Mr. Merrick, I'll cable for one of them."
"Thank you, sir," said the detective, with quiet dignity; "I don't
anticipate that I shall want any assistance; and if I should, I will
hardly need import it from Scotland Yard."
"Ha, ha! That all depends, you know, on what your man is. If the
rascal happens to have any English blood in him, it will take a
Scotland Yard chap to run him down."
"On the principle, I suppose, of 'set a rogue to catch a rogue,'"
Merrick replied, smiling.
He bad scarcely finished speaking when Hardy suddenly entered the
room.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said, addressing Ralph Mainwaring; "but the
coachman is gone! We've looked everywhere for him, but he's nowhere
about the place."
"When did he go?" asked Mr. Whitney, quickly.
"Nobody knows, sir. Joe, the stable-boy, says he hasn't been around
at all this morning."
"Bring the boy here," said Mr. Mainwaring.
There was instantly recalled to every one present the memory of
Brown's insolent manner at the inquest, together with his confused
and false statements. In a few moments Hardy returned with the
stable-boy, an unkempt, ignorant lad of about fourteen, but with a
face old and shrewd beyond his years.
"Are you one of the servants here?" Mr. Mainwaring inquired.
"I works here, ef that's wot yer mean; but I don't call myself
nobody's servant."
"How did it happen that you were not at the inquest?" he demanded.
"Didn't got no invite," was the reply, accompanied by a grin, while
Hardy explained that the boy did not belong to the place, but had
been hired by the coachman to come nights and mornings and attend
to the stable work.
"What do you know about this Brown?" inquired Mr. Mainwaring,
addressing the boy.
"Wal, I guess he's ben a-goin' it at a putty lively gait lately."
"You mean he was fast?"
"I guess that's about the size of it."
"When did you see him last?"
"Hain't seen nothin' of him sence las' night, an' then he was sorter
crusty an' didn't say much. I come down this mornin' an' went to
work,--he allus left the stable key where I could get it,--but I
ham' t seen nor heard nothin' o' him. Me'n him," with an emphatic
nod towards Hardy, "went up to his room, but he warn't there, nor
hadn't ben there all night."
"Why do you think he was fast?"
"Wal, from all I've hearn about him I guess he's ben goin' with a
kinder hard set lately. I've seen some putty tough-lookin' subs
hangin' 'round the stables. There was a lot of 'em waitin' for him
Wednesday night."
"Wednesday night!" ejaculated Mr. Whitney. "At what time? and who
were they?"
"I dunno who they was, but they was hangin' 'round about eight
o'clock waitin' for him to go with 'em. An' then he's had lots of
money lately."
"How do you know this?"
"I've hearn him a-jinglin' it in his room; an' night afore las' I
clim' up-stairs and peeked in, an' he had a whole pile of gold
pieces 'bout that high," measuring with his hands; "but he see me,
an' he said he'd gimme a whalin' ef he catched me at it agin."
"Did you watch him last night?" asked Mr. Mainwaring.
"Yas; he acted so kinder queer that I waited 'round to see what he
was goin' to do. After 'twas still an' he thought I'd gone, he come
down an' started off towards the side street. Jes' fer fun I
follered him; an' when he got to the lake he stopped and looked all
'round, as ef to make sure there warn't nobody to see him, an' then
he takes somethin', I couldn't see what, out from under his coat an'
chucks it quick into the lake, an' then he started on a run down
towards the street."
"Couldn't you see what he threw?"
"No, I couldn't see what 'twas; but it struck the water awful heavy."
"Is that all you know about the affair?"
"Yas, that's all."
"Wait a moment," said Mr. Merrick, as the boy turned to leave the
room. "Can you tell how many, or what kind of looking men were with
Brown on Wednesday night?"
"There was three of 'em. One was a big feller with kinder squint
eyes, the other two was ornery lookin' fellers; one of 'em was dark
like a furriner, an' t'other one had sorter yeller hair."
"How long were they there?"
"About half 'n hour, I guess. They was all gone 'fore nine o'clock."
"Did you hear anything that was said?"
"I hearn 'em talkin' somethin' about the boss."
"Mr. Mainwaring?"
"Yas. He'd made a kick about somethin' or 'nuther that afternoon,
an' Brown he was cussin' mad, an' then when they went away I hearn
one of 'em say somethin' about 'makin' a good job of it.'"
"How was this, Hardy?" inquired Mr. Whitney. "Had there been any
words Wednesday between Mr. Mainwaring and the coachman?"
"Yes, sir; I had forgotten it; but now I remember that when he came
back that afternoon, he found some fault with the coachman, and
Brown was very insolent, and then Mr. Mainwaring threatened to
discharge him."
"'Pon my soul! I should say here was something worth looking into,"
said Mr. Thornton, as the boy left the room, accompanied by Hardy.
"A great pity that we could not have had his testimony at the
inquest," commented the attorney. "We might then have cornered
Brown; but I was not aware that there was such a person employed on
the place."
Meanwhile, a carriage ordered by telephone from the Arlington had
already arrived at Fair Oaks.
"Well," said Ralph Mainwaring, "the carriage is waiting. We had
better proceed to the depot; we can talk of this latest development
on our way."
"You will excuse me, gentlemen," said Mr. Merrick, quietly, "I have
changed my mind, and will postpone my trip to the city."
"Struck a new trail, eh?" queried Ralph Mainwaring, with a peculiar
expression, as he paused to light a cigar.
"On the contrary, sir, only following up an old one," and, with a
somewhat ambiguous smile, the detective withdrew.
The coachman's sudden disappearance, together with the facts learned
from the stable-boy, formed the subject of discussion for the next
half-hour between Ralph Mainwaring and the attorney, Scott listening
with a thoughtful face, although taking little part in the
conversation. Upon their arrival at the offices of Mainwaring &
Co. they were given a cordial greeting by Mr. Elliott and Mr.
Chittenden, after which they passed on to the elegant private
offices of Hugh Mainwaring. Mr. Whitney was visibly affected as
he entered the familiar rooms, and to each one was forcibly
recalled the memory of their meeting a few days before. A brief
silence followed, and then in subdued tones they began to discuss
the business which had now brought them there.
At about two o'clock that afternoon, Scott found himself entering
an ancient and dilapidated looking block in a rather disreputable
part of the city. He had fulfilled his appointment with Mr.
Sutherland, and after an hour's conversation both gentlemen appeared
very sanguine regarding the case under consideration. As Scott was
taking leave, he produced Hobson's card and related the particulars
of their incidental meeting at Fair Oaks, and Hobson's urgent
invitation to call upon him at his office.
Mr. Sutherland laughed. "About what I expected," he said. "It was
evident from his remarks at the inquest that some one--probably
Mrs. LaGrange--had posted him concerning you, and he is afraid you
are onto his secret."
"I had questioned if it were that, or whether possibly he might be
onto mine."
"Not at all probable," said the attorney, after a moment's
reflection. "If he really understood your position, he would be
far too cunning to allow you to get sight of him. You have the
scoundrel completely in your power."
"Yes, as much as he is in anybody's power; but it is doubtful if
any one can hold so slippery a rascal as he. I believe I will give
him a call, however."
"It would do no harm, taking care, of course, that you give him no
information."
"Oh, certainly," said Scott, with a smile, as he paused for an
instant in the doorway; "my object will be to get, not give,
information."
"His object will probably be the same," was Mr. Sutherland's parting
shot, as he turned with a laugh to his desk.
Scott, having ascended a narrow, crooked stairway, found himself in
a long, dark hall, poorly ventilated, and whose filthy condition was
only too apparent even in the dim light. Far in the rear he saw a
door bearing the words, "R. Hobson, Attorney." As he pushed open
the door, a boy of about seventeen, who, with a cigarette in his
mouth and his feet on a table, sat reading a novel, instantly assumed
the perpendicular and, wheeling about, faced Scott with one of the
most villainous countenances the latter had ever seen. Something in
Scott's appearance seemed to surprise him, for he stared impudently
without speaking. After silently studying the face before him for
an instant, Scott inquired for Mr. Hobson.
"He is in, sir, but he is engaged at present with a client," said
the boy, in tones which closely resembled Hobson's. "I will take
in your card, sir."
The boy disappeared with the card into an adjoining room, returning
a moment later with the most obsequious manners and the announcement
that Mr. Hobson would be at liberty in a few moments. Scott rightly
judged that this ceremony was merely enacted for effect, and contented
himself with looking about the small, poorly furnished room, while
the office boy opposite regarded him with an undisguised curiosity,
which betrayed that this client--if such he could be regarded--differed
greatly from the usual class. Young and untaught though
he were, he had learned to read the faces about him, and that of
his employer was to him as an open book, and the expression which
flashed into Hobson's eyes as they fell upon Scott's card indicated
plainly to the office boy that in this instance the usual conditions
were reversed, and the attorney stood in fear of his visitor.
A few moments later the door of the next room opened noiselessly
and Hobson, attired in a red dressing-gown and wearing his most
ingratiating smile, silently beckoned Scott to enter. With a quick
glance the latter took in every detail of the second apartment. It
was somewhat larger than the first, but the furnishing was meagre
and shabby in the extreme, and, with the exception of a small set
of shelves containing a few dilapidated volumes, there were no
visible signs of an attorney's office.
Hobson did not speak until he had carefully closed the door, then
he said, in low tones,--
"As our conversation is likely to be of a confidential nature, you
would perhaps desire greater privacy than can be secured here. Step
this way."
He opened the door into a room so dark and so thick with stale
tobacco smoke that at first Scott could discern nothing clearly.
"My den!" said Hobson, with a magnificent flourish, and Scott stepped
within, feeling, he afterwards said, as though he were being ushered
by Mephistopheles into the infernal regions, and this impression was
not lessened by the first objects which he was able to distinguish,--a
pair of skulls grinning at him through the smoky atmosphere.
As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light he noted that the
room was extremely small, with only one window, which opened upon
the blank wall of an adjoining building, and with no furniture, save
an enormous, high-top desk and two chairs. One of the latter Hobson
placed near the window for his visitor, and then busied himself for
a moment at the desk in hastily concealing what to Scott looked like
some paraphernalia of the black arts. Upon the top of the desk were
the two skulls which had first attracted Scott's attention, and
which he now regarded rather curiously. Hobson, following his
glance, said, by way of explanation,--
"Rather peculiar ornaments, I dare say, you consider those, Mr.
Scott; but I am greatly interested in phrenology and devote much of
my leisure time to its study. It is not only amusing, you know, but
it is of great assistance in reading and understanding my fellow-men,
and enables me to adapt myself to my clients, so to speak."
Having satisfactorily arranged his belongings, Hobson locked the
door, and, seating himself behind his desk, appeared ready for
business.
"Well, my young friend," he began, "I rather expected you, for I
flatter myself that I understand enough of human nature to know that
there are very few who will pass by an opportunity of learning
something for the advancement of their own interests or the
betterment of their own condition in life."
"That may be perfectly natural," Scott replied; "but you flatter
yourself altogether too much if you think that I have come here
with any expectation that you can advance my interests or better
my condition."
"That remains to be seen. Much also depends upon yourself, for I
take it that a young man of your calibre is not without ambition."
Hobson paused, regarding his visitor with sharp scrutiny, but
receiving no reply, continued, "I might add, that to a young man
with ambitious designs such as yours, I would probably be able to
render great assistance."
"I am not aware of any unusual ambition on my part."
"Oh, no, nothing unusual. You simply had no intention of remaining
Hugh Mainwaring's secretary any longer than was necessary. That
was perfectly natural, perfectly laudable, my young friend, and I
admire the shrewdness and foresight with which you set about to
accomplish your designs. At the same time, I believe I am in a
position to give you just the information and advice you need in
order to insure your success."
Both men had the same object in view. Each wished to ascertain what
the other knew concerning himself. Scott, unable to determine
whether Hobson had spoken at random or with an inkling of the facts,
answered, coldly,--
"I do not know to what you refer, or on what grounds you base the
inference which you seem to have drawn."
"No? Then you will allow me to remark, Mr. Scott, that such
familiarity as yours with a portion of Hugh Mainwaring's private
correspondence, extending back over a period of fifteen or more
years, taking into consideration the facts that you cannot be much
more than twenty-five years of age, and have only been about two
years in Mr. Mainwaring's employ, would indicate that you had sought
to acquaint yourself with some facts connected with your employer's
early life with the express purpose of using the same to your own
advantage."
"You must see the inconsistency of such a supposition, when you
consider that I have been in possession of these facts for some
time--it is unnecessary to state how long--and have made no use
of them whatever."
"Possibly," said Hobson, with emphasis, "your knowledge of the
facts may not have been definite enough to warrant your use of them."
His voice and manner unconsciously betrayed the importance which he
attached to Scott's reply. The latter detected this, and answered
evasively,--
"It is sufficiently definite for any own personal satisfaction in
any event."
Hobson shook his head. "It is useless to evade the point. You had
an object in looking up that correspondence; you intended to make
a good thing out of the facts you got hold of; and, if your
information is sufficiently complete, you can make a good thing out
of them yet."
"If I have not attempted anything of that kind in the past, would
I be likely to try it at this late day?" Scott asked, with the air
of one who is open to any available suggestion.
Hobson at once assumed a confidential manner, and, moving a little
nearer his visitor, replied, in a low tone,--
"Look here, Mr. Scott, that's just why I wanted to meet you. You
see I knew more about you than you think. I've taken an unusual
interest in you, too; and, seeing the little game you were playing,
and knowing that I held the trump card myself, I naturally would
like to take a hand and help you out at the same time. Now, the
point is just this, Mr. Scott: What do you really know concerning
the transaction referred to in that correspondence? I suppose
you are familiar with all the letters that passed on both sides?"
"Perfectly so."
"Certainly. But you will acknowledge, Mr. Scott, that those letters
were expressed in very guarded terms, and, with the exception of
possibly one or two, gave no hint of the nature of that transaction.
Remember," he added, impressively, "I have an exact copy of the
correspondence on both sides, and no one could ever assume any
statement or admissions that were not there."
"I presumed that, of course," said Scott, calmly.
"Now, my young friend, let us get down to the actual knowledge which
you have of the facts. You are, I suppose, aware that there was a
missing will involved in the case?"
"I am; and that one or two of your letters purported to show that
the missing will was destroyed by Hugh Mainwaring."
"Did I make any such allegation?"
"Not directly; but your allusions and references would be clear to
any one having a knowledge of the English statutes."
Hobson started, and inquired quickly, "Are you familiar with English
law?"
"I made myself familiar with your citations and references in this
case."
"I see; you have indeed made a study of the case. Well, Mr. Scott,
permit me to say that I accused Hugh Mainwaring of nothing which he
had not previously confessed to me himself. Have you any knowledge
concerning that will,--its terms or conditions, or the names of the
testator or beneficiaries?"
"There was nothing in the correspondence to give any clue to those
particulars. I could only gather that Hugh Mainwaring had defrauded
others and enriched himself by destroying this will."
Hobson looked relieved. "Without doubt, he did; but allow me to
call your attention to one point, Mr. Scott. You see how little
actual knowledge you have of this affair. There are others--Mrs.
LaGrange, for instance, and the mysterious individual whom she heard
conversing with Mr. Mainwaring on the night of the murder,--all of
whom know as much or more than you; and while this meagre knowledge
of the case might perhaps have been sufficient to bring to bear upon
Mainwaring himself, personally, it would have little or no weight
with those with whom we would now have to deal. You know nothing
of the terms of the will, or of the persons named as beneficiaries,
whom, consequently, Hugh Mainwaring defrauded. You have no proof
that he destroyed the will. In fact, my dear young friend, you
could produce no proof that such a document ever existed at all!"
"Do I understand you, then, that those letters, Mr. Mainwaring's
included, would not be regarded as proof?" Scott asked, with
well-feigned surprise.
"Not of themselves with these people; I know them too well."
Hobson shook his head decidedly, then continued, in oracular
tones, "Remember, I am only speaking of your chances with them.
Mainwaring's letters were very guarded, mine scarcely less so.
They would have no weight whatever with men like Ralph Mainwaring or
William Thornton. They might even charge you with forging the whole
thing. The point is just this, Mr. Scott: in order to be able to
get anything from these parties you must have complete data, absolute
proof of every statement you are to make; and such data and proofs
are in the possession of no one but myself. So you see I am the
only one who can assist you in this matter."
"And what compensation would you demand for 'assisting' me?"
"We will not put it that way, Mr. Scott," Hobson replied, his small,
malignant eyes gleaming with delight at the ease with which his
prey was falling into his clutches. "It is like this: Ralph
Mainwaring and Thornton are prejudiced against me; I might not be
able to work them as successfully as I could wish, but you and I
could work together very smoothly. I could remain invisible, as it
were, and give you the benefit of the information I possess and of
my experience and advice, and you could then successfully manipulate
the wires which would bring in the ducats for both of us. What do
you say, my young friend?"
"Do you think that either Ralph Mainwaring or Mr. Thornton would
care enough for any secrets you might be able to disclose to pay
you hush money?"
"I object to the term of 'hush money.' I am merely trying to get
what was due me from Hugh Mainwaring. As he never paid me in full,
his heirs must. Yes, I could work them after they return to
England and set up in style on the old Mainwaring estate. They
would be rather sensitive about the family reputation then."
"Where are the beneficiaries of that will that was destroyed?" Scott
suddenly inquired.
Hobson looked sharply at him. "Dead, long ago. Why do you ask?"
"I was thinking that if they or their heirs were living, it would
be better to go to them with this information. They would probably
pay a good price for it."
"You're right, they would," Hobson replied, approvingly; "but they
are all dead."
"Were there no heirs left?"
"None whatever, more's the pity. However, I've got a good hold on
these English chaps and will make them hand over the sovereigns yet."
The contempt which Scott had hitherto concealed as Hobson unfolded
his plans was now plainly visible on his face as he rose from his
chair.
"Don't hasten, my young friend," said Hobson, eagerly. "Sit down,
sit down; we have not laid our plans yet."
"No, nor will we," was the reply. "If you think to make a cat's-paw
of me in any of your dirty, contemptible pieces of work, you are
mistaken. If you think that I came here with any intention of
listening for one moment to any of your vile propositions, you are
mistaken. I came here simply to satisfy myself on one point. My
errand is accomplished, and I will remain no longer."
Hobson had sprung to his feet and now faced Scott, barring the way
to the door, while fear, anger, defiance, and hate passed in rapid
succession across his evil countenance, making his appearance more
demon-like than ever.
"You lie!" he exclaimed, in a hoarse whisper. "I have not given
you one word of information!"
"No," Scott interrupted, "you have given me no information, and you
could give me none, for the reason that I know more concerning this
whole affair than you do. I also have knowledge of certain other
matters regarding one Richard Hobson, alias Dick Carroll, and his
London adventures."
Hobson's face had become a livid hue, and Scott detected a sudden
movement of his right hand towards his desk.
"None of that!" he cried, warningly, at the same time springing
quickly upon him with two well-aimed blows, one of which knocked a
revolver from Hobson's hand, while the other deposited him in a heap
upon the floor. While the latter was recovering from the effect of
the stunning blow he had received, Scott picked up the revolver and,
having examined it, slipped it into his pocket, saying,--
"I will keep this for a while as a souvenir of our interview. It
may be needed as evidence later."
Hobson crawled to his feet and stood cowering abjectly before Scott,
rage written on every lineament of his face, but not daring to give
it expression.
"Who in the devil are you, anyway?" he growled.
"That is none of your business whatever," Scott replied, seizing
him by the collar and dragging him to the door. "The only thing for
you to do is to unlock that door as expeditiously as possible,
asking no questions and making no comments."
With trembling fingers the wretch complied, and Scott, still
retaining his hold upon his collar, reached the door of the outer
room, where, with a final shake, he released him.
"Wait a moment," Hobson whispered, eagerly, half-paralyzed with fear,
while his eyes gleamed with malign hatred. "You've got no hold on
me by anything I've said, and you've no proof of that Carroll
business, either."
Scott looked at him an instant with silent contempt. "You cowardly
scoundrel! all I have to say to you at present is, be careful how
you interfere with me! I'm only sorry I soiled my hands with you,
but I'll do it again if necessary; and the next time you will fare
worse!" and, opening the door, he passed quickly through the outer
room, conscious of the amazed stare of the office boy, who had
overheard his last words. Hobson did not attempt to follow him, but
paced up and down his room, trembling with fear and rage combined,
and vainly striving to imagine who his visitor might be. At last
he sat down to his desk and began to write rapidly, muttering to
himself,--
"I half believe--only that he's too young--that he is some hound
over here trying to scent out the whole thing. But," he added, with
an oath, "whoever he is, if he crosses my track he'll be likely to
follow Hugh Mainwaring before long, that's all!"