The Fellow Passengers:

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 505, 24 January 1906, Page 2

The Fellow Passengers:

OUR BRILLIANT NEW STORY.

NOW EIBST PUBLISHED.

A My3tery and Its Solution,

BT, BIVINGTON PIKE, Author of 'The Man who Disappeared/ 'London of the Past/ &c, &o.

OUR ABBANGEMENTS WITH THE AUTHOB ABE THAT WE ALONE IN AUSTBALIA HAVE THE BIGHT TO SEBIAL PUBLICATION.

CHAPTEB Xll.—(Continued.) When Mr Broadhurst was at home, he indulged in a morning paper—and sometimes, when extravagantly dis posed, in an evening one, as well. Bat daring his absence, no paper of any kind was delivered at the house. To tell the truth, the two women, who just then made up the household, did not feel the deprivation very keenly. The next door people on the left were folks of a similar type. As the two families patronised different papers, they sometimes widened their mental horizon by exchanging sheets; and quite frequently, when anything special was going on in the world, if one of the husbands purchased an extra journal, he would send it on by his wife for the other to see. In this way mutual accommodation in the matter of newspapers had become a habit. Mrs Broadhurst, therefore, was not astonished when, just after Mr Snape's departure, the neighbours' little boy came to the back-door and handed her a paper—with his father's compliments. Usually the boys' mother would run over herself; hut she, no doubt, was too busy this evening. Even left without guidance, Mrs Broadhurst would, of course, have turned first to the latest news from the scene of the accident. Mrs Hudson, though, had thoughtfully stuck in a pin, to indicate something specially interesting; and as this pin pointed to a paragraph in the Gulby news, inclination and a dutiful regard for her neighbour's wish both prompted her in the same direction. What she read was to much the same effect as the statemens in the London paper which had so affected Bob Nicholls. There was the same revelation as to Bent's guiltiness, the same hint as to a confederate or confederates, and, lastly, some remarks respecting the eccentric passenger—who, the paper said, had been traced to Manchester. Far worse than all this'ifrom Mrs point of view) there was also given the same name and address famished by the passenger—' Walter Buckle, 32, Edin-burgh-terrace, Widdon/ With a short cry, Mrs Broadhurst, on seeing this, sank fainting to the floor. Nellie, too, was greatly troubled, bat she took the blow calmly. She bestirred herself, first, to bring round iteraisiei-in-law: then she sat down, her head on her hands, her elbows on the table, to savagely think o?.h what this meant. The problem was too hard for her. She knew too few of the conditions to be able to solve it. While she wa3 still pondering, Mr Ormrod, returning from Manchester, called in to impart his tidings. He found that his daughter had gone upstairs. Nellie had persuaded her to lie down, after promising that she should be called if need arose. On the whole, Mr Ormrod was relieved to hear this. It was necessary to take somebody into his confidence, and he preferred that that person should be Nellie. If not quite so intimately concerned as his own child, she certainly had harder nerves. 'ls Walter back?' he asked, the moment the door was opened. .'No/ said Nellie, gravely. ' Have you heard from him ?' Nellie dragged Mr Ormrod into the house, and then gave him a brief account of the more salient events of the day; finishing up with an allusion to the evening paper's revelations. The old man wiped his brow, as she went oh from fact to fact. It was not because of warmth, for the evening was frosty. It was on account of a gathering dread that the matter wa3 exceedingly serious. ' See here/ he said in a low tone, when she had finished. 'Do you recognise that?' He handed her the slip of paper that had fallen out of the hit ' Yes/ she said; «it's Walter'3—his wr.ting/ • I thought ao.'

' I'm sure it ia. I know his hand well. Bat what has this to do with him?'

Mr Ormrod told her brefly how and where he had found it.

* Good heavens I' ejaculated Nellie. Surprise had followed surprise, revelation had trod so closely on the heels of revelation, throughout the whole day, that her capacity now for being further astonished was , strictly limited. Still, this new fact moved her strangely.

* I shall begin to think soon/ she said, with a touch of wildnesa, ' that Walter has committed a murder, or something/

'He must have done something/ said Mr Ormrod, gravely. 'He is running away from the police—that is clear. And he is keeping himself in hiding/ Nellie again sat down, and, clutching her head, forced her brain to again consider the problem. 'He started by the 1.30 train/ she muttered; 'and he was in Manchester at nine o'clock last night. Therefore, he must have come down to Gulby, and gone through the collision. ... He was in the same compartment, too, with this American —perhaps quarrelled with him. This American had a -confederate who gave a name very similar to Walter's, and also gave Walter's address. Therefore. . . . whatP No—l can't think it out/

Mr Ormrod also pondered over the enigma, but his thoughts travelled along a different route.

'lt has occurred to me/ he said, ' that, if Walter was in the collision, his brain might be a little—a—affected. Being in the family. Nellie nodded. Even this supposition came as a relief. 'lf only it is but temporary!' she murmured. 'ln that case/ continued Mr Ormrod, 'one can understand his queer doings, and his going back to London. One could understand, even, his sending that telegram about business. His being up there so recently would suggest the notion/ This seemed very plausible. Nellie quite brightened up under its influence. 'That is the reason, no doubt/ she said, stoutly. ' The idea of Walter committing a crime—why, he wouldn't hurt a fly!' * H so/ Mr Ormrod proceeded, following his own train of thought; 'and if the police arp -sally after him, there is ; • some mistake on their part. They may be confounding him, for instance, with this confederate. I shouldn't wonder. . . . Though, of course, if his brain is .' To Nellie, this theory of mistake seemed self-evident, as soon as it was stated. Had the fact been proved in a court of law, she would not have regarded it as more certain.

♦Of course, that is it/ she said sitting up cheerfully. ' And the next thin?, now, is to find out Walter and bring him back to his proper senses.' 'H'm, yes!' said Mr Ormrod. 'That is the next'job.' A short silence followed, soon to be broken by a double knock. •Another telegram/ exclaimed Nellie and Mr Ormrod in chorus. Nellie answered the door. The message wa3 addre33ed to her. ' From Bob/ she concluded. She opened it. Her conjecture proved well-founded. This was the message sent by him from the Charing Cross office, saying that Walter had not returned to Killick'p.

She wad the telegram, and then handed it dumbly to her companion. After he, also, had perused it, their eyes met in painful suspense. «Where is he, then?' was the unspoken question which each asked of the other.

'Nellie! was called. The cry came from the front bedroom. Nellie went to the foot of the stairs, and asked what was the matter.

■ Wag that from Walter ?' Mrs Broadhurafc demanded querulously «No. It was from Bob,' said Nellie. ' What was it about ?'

Nellie took the telegram upstairs, and showed it to the muoh-tried wife. Incidentally she mentioned that Mr Ormrod was below, whereupon Mrs Broadhurst insisted on coming down. Nellie helped her up, and then ran downstairs to apprise Mr Ormrod. A rapid consultation was held as to whether she should be told of the later developments of the case. Mr Ormrod was now inclined to reserve his news; but Nellie stoutly urged Mrs Broadhurst (as the wife of the man implicated), should, in common honesty, be made acquainted with all that was known—and even with that which was only suspected. In the end she prevailed, and Mrs Broadhurst, after due preparation, was told of the hat-shop series of incidents, and of Inspector Marsh's quest for her Ausband.

that would help you ?' Marsh asked. The suggestion was a useful one. Cockram's lace broke out into a smile. He at once moved over towardß a writing-desk, and took from it a quantity of documents. These he glanced at, one by one.' At length he came to a letter which arrested his attention. He scanned it carefully, and then looked again at the nearly-obliterated writing on the hat-band. Then he passed the letter on to the Inspector. It was a formal note about a small business matter, and was signed 'Snape and Duggan, per W.B.' ' That's the same writing, I think,' the hatter remarked. The Inspector, after a careful scrutiny, concurred. « A clerk, apparently, in the employ of Snape and Duggan?' Marsh remarked questioning!?. '-Who are they?' «A firm of solicitors,' Oockram rejoined. 'Good firm, too. Offices in Market-square. The clerk's name, unless I'm mistaken, is Walter Broadhurst.'

Exhausted nature refused to be farther alarmed—although the identification of the hat, its annexment by Inspector Marsh, and the remarks of the latter respecting its late owner, seemed more conclusively to point to crime—either rational or irrational — on Walter's part than anything that had before transpired. 'lt's all a mistake, all a mistake,' wailed the harassed wife. ' I'm sure Walter could explain it. If only we could find him .'

• Why—that just fits in,' Marsh shouted excitedly. ' A longish surname, with an «h' in the middle! That's just what I expected to find.' He examined the writing on the leather band once more—from a new point of view. This time it was to satisfy himself whether the name might have been Broadhurst. A moment's scrutiny sufficed to convince him that almost certainly it had.

OHAPTEB XIII, When Inspector Marsh left the hatter's in Market-street, Manchester, he caused himself to be driven to the detective headquarters. While the cab waited he went inside, ascertained that no fresh news had come to hand, re-examined the writing inside the hat, and looked out the times of the Gulby and Widdon trains. Then he started post haste for Exchange Station, en route for Gulby. He travelled to this place by the same train that carried Mr Ormrod. But while the latter journeyed on to Widdon, Marsh J eft the train at the junction and interviewed the station master. 'About that passenger/ he said. 'Haveyou learnt anything fresh ?' Mr Weeks replied in the negative. 'Did it strike you, now, when he gave his name and address that he was inventing them ? Did he hesitate, for instance? Mr Weeks remembered that there had been a little hesitancy. But this he put down at the time to the man's nerves being upset. .' Possibly/ said Marsh, drily. «But, a3 it happens, I have good reason to believe that the surname is not Buckle. It is some word a good deal longer/ He then told Mr Weeks of the writing inside the hat, and went on to explain that, under the magnifying glass, he had found that the man's surname contained an ' hj ' somewhere near the middle, and that it ended certainly in a 't/ It was thus revealed as being *B —h —t;' which was plainly not 'Buckle.' Mr Weeks pondered a little. He had a dim, uncertain remembrance of having noticed something like this—some similar discrepancy—about the name on the envelope which the passenger had shown him. But so much had happened during the last twentyfours hours that, really, he couldn't be quite sure whether this was so, or whether he had only fancied it.

'By jovel' he exclaimed triumphantly. 'But that's the man. Writing corresponds, name corresponds, town corresponds. I'm much obliged to you, Mr Cockram. You've done me a good turn. And now, perhaps, you could do me another by telling me where this gentleman lives ?'

Cookram shook his head. ' Afraid I can't do that,' he said. ' I just know the man by sight, and that's all. I fancy, though, he lives in one of the new streets beyond the railway station; hut even of that I'm not positive.' «Could you inquire—on the quiet P* the Inspector asked. Mr Cockram was about to consult one of his assistants when Sergeant Bullough, in obediance to the summons sent him, came into the shop. Inspector Marsh at once told him of his recent discovery, and again propounded the question as to Walter Broadhurst's address.

The Sergeant seemed dumbfounded. ' Walter Broadhurst!' he ejaculated, blankly. «Never —never I Can't be! There's some mistake.'

' I remember—seem to remember—' be said, ' that the last letters of the surname on the envelope didn't agree with the name he gave. But I was so busy at the time that 1 forgot this, within the next half-minute; otherwise I might have asked him some question.' 1 Was the last letter a ' t,' do you think ?* ' Really, I —it might be—lshouldn't wonder,' said Weeks. ' Anyhow, now that you mention the matter, it comes back to me clearly that the name didn't finish up like ' Buckle' —and, consequently, was not' Buckle.'' ' That will do—that's something,' said Marsh. And by the next train going Wiiddon way he continued his journey. On arriving at the latter place, he at once inquired his way to Cockram's shop, and sent a message to Sergeant Bullough to join him there. Being Saturday evening, the proprietor was busy; but, on learning the Inspector's identity, he at once gave him a private interview. The Inspector produced the dilapidated hat. * This is your make,' he remarked. 'lt was sold by me,' Mr Cockram corrected. - * Well,' said the Inspector, ' I want to find out whom you sold it to. The man is wanted on a serious charge. He gave the name of Walter Buckle—a false name, by-the-bye—and the address 32, Edinburgh-terrace, Widdon.' ' I sell such a many hats,' Mr Cockram responded mildly. 'No doubt, no doubt,' said the Inspector. ' Glad to hear it. But there's some writing here on this leather band. That may help you. It's just possible you may know whose it is.' Cockram inspected it carefully—first with the unassisted eye. and then through a glass. He seemed a little perplexed. ' Well —I seem to know it,' ha said. *At any rate, I've seen it before. Indeed, it looks rather familiar to me. I can't though, at this moment, say whose writing it is.' * The surname begins with a ' B,'' the Inspector prompted. 'And it ends up with a ' t'; and there's an 'hj ' in the middle of it.'

• Can't be I' repeated the Inspector, severely. ' And why can't itf What do you mean ?'*■ ' I know the man,' said Bullough. 'Know him well. He's a decent, honest; well-conducted fellow—the very last man in the town to do anything wrong. Why, I'd answer for him as if he were my own brother.' ' Do you know his writing when you see it ?' the Inspector' asked, brusquely.

«I think so.' «Is that his?' Marsh handed to Bullough the letter. Sergeant Bullough examined it dubiously. After a minute, he admitted that probably it was. 'Well, then,' said the Inspector shortly. ' Just compare that writing with this, inside the hat. Do they agree?' Again the Sergeant, almost unwillingly, was compelled to almit that they did. • Very well, then,' said Marsh. It follows that this is Walter Broadhurst's hat—doesn't it ?' And then he proceeded, in a few brief sentences, to explain how he had come to know that the former owner of the hat was identical with the accomplice of the deceased swindler.

1 Yes, yes/ said Cockram, thoughtfully. 'Just let me think for a minute.' He remained for quite that length of time in deep cogitation/ but arrived at no result. ' No. I can't remember/ he announced.

'Have you any papers or letters

Sergeant Bullough was aghast. • Phew l' he ejaculated. 'lf there were room for doubt, I should still say a mistake had been made. But there doesn't seem to be any.' 'Not very much,' said Inspector Marsh, drily. He was proud of his skill, and of this last tribute to it. ' And now,' he continued,' if you're quite satisfied Broadhurst is the man, perhaps you'll tell me where he lives ?' Sergeant Bullough at once gave the information. Marsh put it down in his note-book, and then compared it with the address—reported as false—which had been furnished to the station master.

1 Why, this fellow gave up his right address, after all,' he remarked sharply. ' And you—you were asked to inquire at that address. How comes it that you sent me word that it was falsa ?'

Sergeant Bullough excused himself, a little lamely, on the score of the difference of name.

' You're a smart officer,' said Marsh, witheringly. 'You ought to be a chief constable —that's what you ought I Come now, pull yourself together. What did you learn about Broadhurst's movements when you made this inquiry ? Did you learn anything at all ?' Sergeant Bullough recapitulated what he had been told —that Walter Broadhurst was away in London, and not expected back for some days. ' Why ? On whose business f' Marsh inquired pertinently. 1 On his employers,' I believe,' said the Sergeant. 'Leastways, his wife told me so.'

1 H'm 1' Marsh ejaculated. 'Perhaps, I'd better see that employer.' Without further parley, after thanking Mr Cockram for his help, and binding him to silence, the Inspector left for Mr Snape's house, under Bullough's guidance.

(To be continued.)