A Bid for Fortune - Guy Boothby (ready player one ebook TXT) 📗

pins and presenting it to him. Thereupon we sat down beside the table, and he broke the seal with trembling fingers.

It was not a very long epistle, and ran as follows:

“My Dear Mr. Wetherell,

“Bags of imitation money and spurious banknotes will not avail you, nor is it politic to arrange that the water police should meet you on the harbour for the purpose of arresting me. You have lost your opportunity, and your daughter accordingly leaves Australia tonight. I will, however, give you one more chance⁠—take care that you make the most of it. The sum I now ask is £150,000, with the stick given you by China Pete, and must be paid without enquiry of any sort. If you are agreeable to this, advertise as follows, ‘I will pay⁠—W., and give stick!’ in the agony column Sydney Morning Herald, on the 18th, 19th, and 20th of this present month. Further arrangements will then be made with you.

“The Man Who Knows.”

“Oh, my God, I’ve ruined all!” cried Mr. Wetherell as he put the letter down on the table; “and, who knows? I may have killed my poor child!”

Seeing his misery, I did my best to comfort him; but it was no use. He seemed utterly broken down by the failure of our scheme, and, if the truth must be told, my own heart was quite as heavy. One thing was very certain, there was a traitor in our camp. Someone had overheard our plans and carried them elsewhere. Could it be the footman? If so, he should have it made hot for him when I got sufficient proof against him; I could promise him that most certainly. While I was thinking over this, I heard a footstep on the companion stairs, and a moment later the Inspector made his appearance. His astonishment at finding us alone, reading a letter by the light of one solitary candle, was unmistakable, for he said, as he came towards us and sat down,

“Why, how’s this? Where are the men?”

“There are none. We’ve been nicely sold,” I answered, handing him the letter. He perused it without further remark, and when he had done so, sat drumming with his fingers upon the table in thought.

“We shall have to look in your own house for the person who has given us away, Mr. Wetherell!” he said at last. “The folk who are running this affair are as cute as men are made nowadays; it’s a pleasure to measure swords with them.”

“What do you think our next move had better be?”

“Get home as fast as we can. I’ll return with you, and we’ll talk it over there. It’s no use our remaining here.”

We accordingly went on deck, and descended to our wherry again.

This time the Inspector accompanied us, while the police boat set off down the harbour on other business. When we had seen it pull out into the darkness, we threw the imitation money overboard, pushed off for the shore, landed where we had first embarked, and then walked up to Mr. Wetherell’s house. It was considerably after two o’clock by the time we reached it, but the butler was still sitting up for us. His disappointment seemed as keen as ours when he discovered that we had returned without his young mistress. He followed us up to the study with spirits and glasses, and then at his master’s instruction went off to bed.

“Now, gentlemen,” began Mr. Wetherell, when the door had closed upon him, “let us discuss the matter thoroughly. But before we begin, may I offer you cigars.”

The Inspector took one, but I declined, stating that I preferred a pipe. But my pipe was in my bedroom, which was on the other side of the passage; so asking them to wait for me, I went to fetch it. I left the room, shutting the door behind me. But it so happened that the pipe-case had been moved, and it was some minutes before I could find it. Having done so, however, I blew out my candle, and was about to leave the room, which was exactly opposite the study, when I heard the green baize door at the end of the passage open, and a light footstep come along the corridor. Instantly I stood perfectly still, and waited to see who it might be. Closer and closer the step came, till I saw in the half dark the pretty figure of one of the parlour maids. On tiptoe she crept up to the study door, and then stooping down, listened at the keyhole. Instantly I was on the alert, every nerve strained to watch her. For nearly five minutes she stood there, and then with a glance round, tiptoed quietly along the passage again, closing the baize door after her.

When she was safely out of hearing I crossed to the study. Both the Inspector and Mr. Wetherell saw that something had happened, and were going to question me. But I held up my hand.

“Don’t ask any questions, but tell me as quickly, and as nearly as you can, what you have been talking about during the last five minutes,” I said.

“Why?”

“Don’t stop to ask questions. Believe in the importance of my haste. What was it?”

“I have only been giving Mr. Wetherell a notion of the steps I propose to take,” said the Inspector.

“Thank you. Now I’m off. Don’t sit up for me, Mr. Wetherell; I’m going to follow up a clue that may put us on the right scent at last. I don’t think you had better come, Mr. Inspector, but I’ll meet you here again at six o’clock.”

“You can’t explain, I suppose?” said the latter, looking a little huffed.

“I’m afraid not,” I answered; “but I’ll tell you this much⁠—I saw one of the female servants listening at this door just now. She’ll be off, if I mistake not, with the news she has picked up, and I want to watch her. Good night.”

“Good night, and good luck to you.”

Without another word I slipped off my boots, and