HOME AGAIN
"What do you mean by this?" Copley demanded.
The intruders were not in the least abashed. On the contrary, they had
every evidence of being very sure of their ground. The foremost touched
Copley on the shoulder.
"Mr. Raymond Copley, I believe?" he said politely.
"It would be foolish to deny it," Copley sneered.
"Very good, sir," the stranger went on. "And this other gentleman is Mr.
Foster?"
Foster nodded uneasily. He held the screwdriver he was using and waited
for developments with white face and quivering lips.
"That being so, gentlemen," the stranger said, "I may as well introduce
myself. I am Inspector Andrews of Scotland Yard and this is my
assistant. We have a warrant for the arrest of both of you on the charge
of obtaining a large sum of money by means of a trick from Mr. Selwyn
and others in connection with race meetings at Mirst Park. The warrant
was obtained on the information of Mr. Selwyn, and you will please
consider yourselves my prisoners. Anything you say, of course, will be
given in evidence against you."
Copley cursed himself under his breath. What a fool he had been to come
here! The matter would have been bad enough if he had been arrested at
Seton Manor, but to be taken here, to be identified in this fashion at
The Nook was fatal. There was nothing for it in the circumstances but to
try to bluster.
"This is an outrage," he exclaimed. "It is a mere tale to extort money
from a man in my position. You haven't a scrap of evidence to justify a
proceeding like this."
"That remains to be proved, sir," the Inspector said quietly. "I may say
that your accomplice, Captain Eversleigh, is already in custody and is
volunteering all the information we require. We have also arrested the
man Chaffey in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden. More than that, we
have interviewed the National Telephone authorities, and they have not
been reticent, either. Besides that, we can produce the agent who let
this house and who has already identified you. Also, we have taken
possession of the office of Jolly & Co., and your accomplice there is in
our hands also. I don't think we have left anything undone. We motored
to Seton Manor, but you had left just before we arrived. We kept you
under observation till now. Come, Mr. Copley, nothing will be gained by
taking this attitude. I am telling you this in fairness to yourself so
that you may know what you have to answer."
Copley was done and submitted quietly to have the handcuffs put upon his
wrists. Foster seemed equally subdued. He advanced towards the
Inspector's assistant, then suddenly lunged forward, brushed him aside,
and darted through the door into the open air. Instantly he was lost in
the thick bushes. Inspector Andrews shrugged his shoulders.
"You are to blame for that," he said. "No, it is no use following him
just now. We must pick him up later. Mr. Copley, if you are quite ready
we'll get back to London."
An hour later Copley was safely housed. By seven o'clock his name was
ringing from one end of London to the other. At first the published
details were meagre, but the extra specials contained fuller tidings.
They had managed to ferret out some racing particulars and to interview
Rickerby, who was not in the least reticent. By ten o'clock Copley's
arrest formed the one topic of conversation in the clubs. His name
appeared largely on every poster and the South African millionaire found
himself notorious.
The news even reached the ears of May Haredale and her friend Alice.
They had been treating themselves to the theatre in honour of recent
events and paused on their way home to buy a paper. There was plenty to
discuss as they partook of their frugal supper and they sat till late
with the paper between them.
"You have had a lucky escape," Alice said.
"My father has," May replied. "I would never have married that man. I
would have starved first. I never liked him and always felt there was
something wrong about him. He won't trouble us any more and I only hope
this terrible business won't upset my father."
"Don't let us talk any more about it," Alice said. "Let us think about
nothing else but your going home again. I don't know how I shall manage
to stay in London after this. My fortnight at Haredale Park spoilt me."
It is not necessary to say much about May's homecoming. Sir George met
his daughter in the hall. He waited to say a few words to Alice Carden
and then led May into the library.
"I hope you won't blame me, my child," he said. "I can say no more than
that I am exceedingly sorry for what happened. It was only after you had
gone that I realized what a brute I had been. I must have been mad. But
I thought I was going to be turned out of the old home, and to marry
Copley--pardon me for alluding to it--seemed such an easy way out of my
difficulty. I know now that women don't regard these things from the
same standpoint as men do and, of course, I believed Copley was in a
strong position. I regarded him as honest and straightforward,
otherwise----"
"You could not have done that," May protested. "How could you? When you
were ready to fall in with his--but I won't say anything about that. All
that is past and done with for ever. As Harry Fielden said, no man knows
how weak he is till he is face to face with a great temptation. It is
enough that you sincerely regret what has happened. As for me, I am only
too glad to return home on any terms."
"You overwhelm me," Sir George murmured.
"Oh, don't feel like that, I implore you. But, tell me, what difference
will this make to you? I have heard about the strange story of the colt
and how Harry Fielden stepped in to prevent disgrace to our house. But
that does not alter the fact that you owe Mr. Copley a large sum of
money. I suppose it will have to be paid whether he is convicted or
not."
"Undoubtedly," Sir George answered. "But my lawyer says it will be some
time before I am called upon to pay the money. I had a long interview
with him this morning. Everybody knows now that Raymond Copley is no
millionaire and that he is an unscrupulous adventurer who passed
himself off as a wealthy man in order to carry out his swindles. From a
telegram I have just received a good many fresh details came out this
morning when Copley was brought up at Bow Street. The magistrate has
refused to allow bail, but it will be two or three months before Copley
is convicted, and during the interval some of his creditors are sure to
make him bankrupt. They will be anxious to rescue some of the plunder
and there are probably several thousand pounds in the bank besides all
the stuff at Seton Manor and other places. It will take time to
investigate these things, and possibly the summer will be over before
the Bankruptcy officials ask me to pay this money to Copley's estate.
Long before that the Blenheim colt will have won the Derby."
May could not repress a smile.
"You are always sanguine," she said. "In fact, if you hadn't been so
sanguine, you would not be in your present position. I suppose nobody
knows of our trouble."
"Only Harry Fielden," Sir George said thankfully. "I suppose, we shall
have to regard him as one of the family, though what he is going to live
on and how he is going to keep you, goodness knows. I've got nothing."
A smile crossed May's face.
"We are all going to make fortunes out of the colt," she said. "If you
are so sanguine, you must not grudge a little bit of a similar spirit to
us. I know that Harry has backed the colt for all he is worth. It is
very dreadful and wrong and extravagant, but Harry tells me that this
will be the last time. How singular that the fortunes of two families
should depend upon a horse! Only think, too, that, but for the merest
accident, the Blenheim colt would not be in the Derby at all. That makes
me think our good fortune is to continue. I don't think Fate would play
us a low-down trick. It is impossible that the colt has been saved only
to speed us to ruin at the last. But I don't like to think about it. I
shall be in a fever of anxiety from now till May. But I'll try to be
calm. I must realize that this is my last bet."
Sir George was content to let it go at that. He was glad to have his
daughter back, glad to think that things were no worse. Fate, too, had
been kind to him, for he had preserved his name and reputation. He had
lost nothing; indeed, he stood to be in a better position than he had
ever yet occupied. For the first time for months he was looking forward
to his dinner with gusto.