MARION'S UNCLE.

Auckland Star, Volume XVIII, Issue 201, 29 August 1887, Page 6

MARION'S UNCLE.

A Case for the Detectives.

By SYLVAKUS COBB, Jus.

CHAPTER VIII

MORE MISCHIEF AFLOAT. Half an hour passed after Stephen Wilmot had left the clerks to themselves, and though Jasper Renwick tried hard to settle down to his work, he could not do it. He went into the safety vault three separate times. On the third occasion Vernon managed to see, without being seen in return, and he discovered that the uneasy man was overhauling the contents of the strong box. Walter reflected a moment, and quickly resolved to speak with the master. They had all been bidden to come to him at any moment if business called. So he went into the private office, and closed the door behind him. 'Mr Wilmot,' he said, without hesitation, as the banker turned and saw him, 'Jasper Renwick will not be fit for work until he knows what has become of those government bonds.' •Ah ! Do you think so?' * Yes, sir.' And thereupon the young man told what he had seen—how Renwick had acted for the last half hour. * Poor fellow ! He had made up his mind, as soon as he saw my brother dead, that that mine of wealth was ail his own ; and now, finding it gone, he knows not where, he is terrified by the thought that somebody else may have got in ahead of him. He may possibly fancy it to be you or Singleton. Don't you see . The thought is harrowing up his soul that another has robbed him. If he knew that they were all safe, he would be perfectly easy. So you may tell him, as soon,as you can find a fitting opportunity.' The opportunity came very soon. Not ten minutes had -passed after Vernon had returned to his desk before Renwick came over to him and eased hi» mind.

"Walter,' he burst forth, in a gasping whisper, 'can you imagine what has become of those government bonds ?' 'Why, bless you!' cried the youth,' with the. appearance of honest surprise, 'didn't you understand what Mr Wilmot said ?'

' No,' with a deeply-drawn breath of relief. _ What was it %

'His brother Matthew gave them to Marion, for her to keep until she could give them to her uncle. I thought you knew.' ' Not Thank Heaven they are safe ! You don't know how it has fretted me. I felt, somehow, as though I was responsible., lam glad — very glad. Stephen Wilmot has them I suppose V

' Yes.'

Renwick started to speak further, but did not. He stood a moment in thought, and then returned to his own desk, where, ten minutes later, he was at work as though nothing had ever occurred to disturb him.

During the earl}' part of the day a score of* customers came in. The first asked if it was true that Matthew Wilmot was dead. Stephen had heard the question and came out and introduced himself. He seemed to inspire everyone with confidence, and the business: went on regularly and prosperously, Not a customer, of good standing,, withdrew his patronage; but several hew ones came in. Stephen Wilmot was. under the necessity of furnishing fifty thousand dollars from His own private funds. He did.this rather than use any of the bonds which had fallen? to his care. At any rate, |he would not sell them so long as he cQuld get along comfortably without. Towards noon of the third day— Wednesday—a boy came into the bank and handed to Renwick a sealed note. The clerk evidently recognised both the messenger, and the hand of, the superscription. He glanced quickly around, then broke the seal of the massive, and- opened it A troubled expression overspread his-face as he read, followed by a sudden clenching- of. the teeth, as though! in impotent rage. He was very quickly, calm,, however; and after a little thought he took his pen, and a scrapof note-paper, and rapidly wrote, perhaps twenty words. This he folded and enveloped and sealed, and then wrote imon the face of the cover, the superscription—* Thos* Tobin, Calumet Bank. (Private)" Then he gave it to the boy, and bade him to hurry feaek with it.

Thomas Tobin was a man well known in the city, and especially among tlio sporting people. He was fond of horses, and fond of races, and he never let slip an opportunity to lay his wager on a favourite fast one; and yet he had never owned a horse; in his life. He was very careful of the outward proprieties. No bad habits were paraded abroad; he possessed no real estate, and he wore no diamonds. Thomas Tobin was paying-tellor in the Calumet Bank. He belonged to one of the most popular and expensive of the down-town clubs; and what he did there tho outer world did not know. In that social organisation called ' The Julian,' there was a club within a club. The inner club was a sort of Freemason affair, the members of which were sworn to secrecy. What was done within their secret conclaves may not be known, but we can guess that gambling was one of their pur, suits." Only the initiated were supposed tq know who were members of the consistory. The knowledge has eotae to us, however, though outside the cabal, that Tom Tobin was one of the most active and influential of its coni_iaU';s,

Matthew Wilmot had boon a member of the Julian "Club for several years. If his best friends had been told that he had been an active and interested member of the consistory, they would not have believed it. But the same could have been said of Thomas Tobin. On that Wednesday evening, after the bank had been closed for the night, Jasper Renwick was the last of the working force to leave. Mr Wilmot had gone first; then Vernon and Singleton had left together, leaving Renwick at work upon a summary, or general statement, of the business that had been done by the bank since the first of April. 'I want the whole thing,' Stephen Wilmot had said,—' every penny that has come in, and every penny that has gone out. If my brother's private books would help you, you are at liberty to take them. Of course, I trust in your good faith. I believe the honour of the bank and the good name of your late employer are both sacred to you.' Jasper had laid his hand over his heart and declared that they were very, very sacred, lie had further declared that the books in question would assist him greatly; and. he had received them. Half an hour after the two younger clerks had gone, Sandy McDougal looked into the room where Renwick was at work, and informed him that there was a gentleman outside who wished to speak with him. -Send him in,' said the worker. •I am very busy; but I will see him.' Presently the door was opened again, and the applicant entered. He was a man of middle age, of medium height, quite fleshy, dressed finely, but not flashily, with afforid, handsome face; his o>nly beard being a moustache that might have excited the envy of a Life-Guardsman. He was a man , whom ninety-and-nine women in a hundred would have called " perfectly splendid," provided tho expression was familiar to their lips. Such was Thomas Tobin, of the Calumet Bank. • Hallo, Jasper! Are you alone V "Yes. Just turn the key on the door behind you—That's it. Now we're safe. Wait a few moments, and I'll be through for to-night. There's an evening paper.' Renwick worked on ten minutes, and little more ; then shut his books, and put them away. ' Now, Tom, I am at your service. You got my note V - Yes. What, if I. may ask, was the ■ 'stroke of good luck' of which you spoke V *Ah! I'll tell you; and I can tell you,too,thatitisathousand times better i than I had dared to hope. The luck was this: This morning Mr Wilmot j gave me his brother's private books to help me in making up a summary of I last month's business. 'You've got those two cheques V

' Of course.'

' Well, I have found just the place to make a minute of them in Matthew Wilmot's journal. Do you remember if he was at the Julian on the evening of the twenty-ninth of last month — Friday ?' ' Yes,' said Tobin, after a moment's thought I *He was there on both Friday and Saturday evening; but he didn't stay late.' 'Never mind that. It is enough that he was there ; and all the better if he wasn't in the lower part of the house. Look at this.'

Renwick opened the private journal which his late employer had kept, and pointed to the page on which entries for the 28th, 29fch and 30th of April —Thursday, Friday and Saturday— had been made; and there was a quarter part of the page left blank. 'You haven't dated the cheques

yetf 'Bless you! Why should I date them ! They are. not filled up yet. I have been waiting for a sign from you.' 'Well, we can put those through easily enough ; but you will have to do a bit of hard swearing. Stephen Wilmot has his eye-teeth cut. He's as keen as a briar. However, if you've got the pluck to face him, and stick to your text, he can't get away from it.'

'Ho! I can do that, never fear. But, tell me—has he said anything more- about those four twenty-five thousands V

- Not a, word.' ' But about this journal—don't you think he has examined it ?'

• Not critically. I have kept a pretty close watch on his movements, and I am. very sure he has not made any study of this book. And if he had 1 can make such an entry here as any man might think he had overlooked.' «Well, now isr your time. Are your nerves steady V

' Yes.'

'Then at it you go. Make the entry, and then, we'll adjourn to my room, and there finish the business at our leisure. I declare, the old fellow must have confidence in you to trust you in this fashion.'

' I tell you, Tom, he has confidence in me. At first, I think, he was inclined to doubt me, but I closed his eyes for him. He thinks lam his right hand now. Gome, we will go in and find one of the old man's pens, and use his ink.'

The pair of them went into the inner room—Matthew Wilmot's former sanctum —where the gas was lighted, and where Jasper sat at the desk. He found a pen that suited him, and selected the inkstand which his late master had been wont to use. It was of a different shade from the regular office ink. Then he laid open the journal, and after trying his pen and his hand awhile on a blank piece of paper he proceeded to forge an entry in the book before him, under date of the 30th ult. And this is what he wrote :

I IVfade two cheques last night to T. T, Bad business ! No more stock In that con cern for mc,'

• There, Tom ! . How's fchaU' Tobin took the .journal, ami'ran His eves over the sentence, it was not a paragraph, but run in, without break, next after the last entry by the banker's own hand. «It is capital, Jasper. I don t think it will be detected, unless your new man has made a critical examination ' I'll risk it, at all events. I think we're all right at this end; and now for the other end. We can do nothing here '

The pen was wiped and put away: the inkstand restored to its proper place- the paper on which the cleric had tried his hand was folded up and put into his vest pocket j then the gas was turned out and the two men eft the room, then shortly thereafter left the bank. In the anteroom they found Sandy fast asleep, at least so he appeared. Ren wick shook him and told him he might make all secure tor the night and go home. As they stepped out upon the sidewalk a smothered exclamation —it sounded very like a profane expletive —burst from Tobin's lips : 'Jasper, who is that old fellow m the doorway opposite V he asked, in a whisper. Jasper looked and saw a stout, rough-looking man standing on the doorsteps of a saloon opposite the bank. He might have been of middle age—say forty, or thereabout ; rather above tho average height; very stoutly built, with a heavy, sandy beard, and curling hair of the same colour. His o-arb was course and substantial, but not poor. He might have been captain of a ship, or he might have been a member of the Detective Police. Renwick gave utterance to an exclamation, and added : *I don't know him, but it isn't the first time I have seen him standing in that same place and looking this same way.' - And I,' said Tobin, - am very sure I've seen- him in the rooms of the Julian, but not in that dress. I'll speak to him!" and he started across the street.

■Hallo.old fellow! How are you . Eh 1 Am I mistaken . Haven't I seen you at our club?' *

The man looked at him curiously, as he might have looked at a strange animal.

« What club is ' our club, 1 if I may presume to ask !' he finally said, in a rich, full tone—a tone indicating magnificent lungs and powerful intcrcostals. He did not appear at all offended, if his genial smile could be worth anything, but took the thing rather pleasantly than otherwise. ' My club is the Julian,' returned Tom, with a low bow.

•0, yes; you have doubtless seen me there." lam not a member, but one of the committee, who, I suppose, has a right to do such things, has kindly introduced and avouched for me. I remember your face vory well. Mr Tobin, I believe'

i ..*Yes, sir—at your service,.,.^ May I be equally blessed, and know what to call you V * Provided you don't call me too late to my dinner— yes, with pleasure. My name is Wollaston—Anthony Wallaston, your very humble servant.' ' Thank you, sir! Thank you! I trust I shall have the pleasure of meeting you at the club.' 'It is not impossible, certainly.' ' Let it be a certainty, I beg of you. Good night, sir.'

' Good night.'

Tom returned to his friend, and the pair walked away together. At the Corner of the street where they were to turn off they stopped aud looked back. The man still stood oh the step of the saloon, and he was not looking after them. He appeared to be looking across the way, towards the bank.

'Do you know, Tom, I don't like the looks of that man.'

'Neither do I,' responded Tobin, emphatically. * There's something under that oily manner of his that we don't see. If he is known at the club, I'll find out what he is.'

Tobin was a bachelor ; he had chambers—two of them—which he hired in the dwelling of a private family, and took his meals wherever he found it convenient —mostly at his club. To his chambers the pair of plotters made their way, and were locked up there for an hour. Then they came forth once more upon the street, with a sharp appetite for supper; and they went to the ordinary of the Julian to get it. Renwick was not a member of the club; but his companion was privileged to take him in as an invited guest, and as such his name was already on the guests' book. During the evening the two friends kept a sharp lookout for Anthony Wollaston ; but they did not see him. Tobin made inquiries of the clerk, and of the porters and ushers; but nobody could tell him more than lie already knew. The fact was* that dangerous looking man was becoming an object of fear to the pair of them.

(To be Continued To-morrow.)