WHAT HARGREAVES KNEW.

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 4 May 1927, Page 8

WHAT HARGREAVES KNEW.

CHATTER XXVI

EXIT HARGREAVES

Til© effect of Bumpus’s words was to cause Sir James Fairfield and Inspector Brent to lean forward eagerly to the stricken butler. “Tell us, Bumpus,” said Jimmie. “Well, it all conies back to Russia a«ain,” said Bumpus. “Mind you, 1 am only guessing. I told you there had been some mysterious deaths there. Well, I remember hearing about a case where a body had been found shot, with no bullet in it; in fact, 1 think it was Sir John himself who told me about it. . . -yes, that’s right, it was Sir John. This sort of thing seemed to have a hold on him, like that gun arrangement, and I noticed he was getting a bit strange before he met nis death no. doubt due to the trouble he had with Mr Romaine —you knew about that.” ' “Yes, yes!” said Jimmie, curbing his impatience. “But about the bullet?” “There was a. Grand Duke shot and found without a bullet. He’d been shot by some Nihilists, and it caused a sensation, but nobody ever found out how it happened, and eventually another crime like it was committed, but the doctors cut into the body earlier and they found part of the bullet, but it wasn’t a bullet like those we know, ft was made of salt, hard, compressed salt, almost like stone, and was dispersing so to speak, in the moisture of the body when they found it, and then it came ont that it wasn t unusual in those regions for bullets like these to be used sometimes. You see, sir, they had a way of compressing salt very hard indeed, sir, so that it could easily go through the soft skin of a man’s solar plexus, just below his chest sir. I understand that you find i mention of it in certain books on Russia.” , “And you think that Sir John committed suicide by means of the lignum vitae gun and a salt bullet?” “That’s what I think, sir, hut sure as I’m on mv death bed it never oecured to me before, but I can see it plain now, sir, for Sir John was just the sort of man to do himself in. He talked about it quite a lot at one time. You see,sir, he had a great sorrow.” “Quite, quite.” said Jimmie. A little later, finding that Bumpus could tell them no more, the two men left the old butler, and held a brief discussion about the information he had given them. “A most astounding story,’’ said the Inspector. “I wonder if it could be true about the salt bullet?” “I hardly think Bumpus would have imagined it,” answered Jimmie. “Well, I’m going back to London immediately,” replied the other. “I shall have a word with the pathologist who examined the body for the Home Office.” . • “Very well,” agreed Jimmie. ‘I shall see you in town a little later. Meanwhile, I must try to get the keys from Bumpus and regain the papers and the will—and of course. I must see the family and break the news to them.” At this the two men departed, each pondering deeply over what the butler had said. It was on the following morning that a meeting was held in the library at Beggar’s End. The relatives of the late Sir John Fairfield had assembled in reply to urgent messages from Jimmie and there they now sat, their drawn faces indicating the suspense through which they were passing. Jimmie had duly obtained the keys of Bumpus’s trunk, and had discovered the paper and the will. He had taken the precaution of having Mr Naylor with him, and now, as the wizened solicitor sat facing the family, he held the fateful papers in his hand. “Seems to he a cat among tlie pigeons,” remarked Harwell. “What is it all about? Good news, I hope.” “The will has been found,” said Mr Naylor dispassionately. “Thank Heaven!” murmured Mr Gales piously. “Good egg!’’ exclaimed Mr. Harwell, liis monocle falling with a clatter to the table. Mrs Webley sat up straight and took in her breath sharply, as she clutched her handbag tighter. “How perfectly wonderful!” she drawled. If Hope has ever been seen personified, it was on those three faces. Each member cast a swift look of pity at the others, for had not Hargreaves told them individually that each was the sole legatee?” : • , rn , “Yes,” continued Mr Naylor. The will has been found. It is made out entirely in the favour of the present Sir James Fairfield.” If a firework had exploded beneath the chair of Mr Darwell he could not have sprung up with greater alacrity. The same could bo said of Mr Gales. “Why, Hargreaves said. . .”. they both began simultaneously, and then stood there astounded, whilst Mis Webley muttered the under-butler’s name and fell half swooning across the table. “Hell!” ejaculated Mir Darwell, breaking the tension. “There’s something wrong somewhere. I know —I have’ got it for a positive fact —that my wife is heir to Sir John.” “And I have got it equally positively,” asseverated Mr Gales, “that the place belongs to me.” . Mrs. Webley’s contribution was a moan. ' “Well, there you are, ladies and gentlemen,” said Mr Naylor. “This is the will, witnessed by Hargreaves. Theres been nothing since.” “Where is that devil Hargreaves?” cried Darwell, dashing to the door just in time to collide with Mr Gales, in similar pursuit. “Whatever’s the matter with them?” asked Mr Naylor. “Can’t say, I’m sure,” answered Jimmie. “They seem to be a. bit ruffled. Better get them back again.” “Here, come back!” cried- the solicitor. “I have something more to say.” . . , , . His words were just m time to bring back Mr Gales and Darwell into the room.

“Tray sit clown,” said Air. Naylor. “[ am. quite sure you will have ample opportunity of meeting Hargreaves later.” t

They little knew that Hargreaves had been listening outside th 4 door, and at that very moment had returned to his previous position. “T have an announcement to make,” said Air. Naylor slowly. “Please be

prepared for a shock Sir John •» win is absolutely void.” “That’s better!” exclaimed ' Mr. Gales. “Why is it better you little loot, demanded Dai well. “Don’t be rude, Montagu, replied cbe pious Gales. “1 meant that n it - void, then it will have to be divided among tlie four.'’ “Oil, I see, Reuben,” said Montagu in a slightly mollified tone. “Quito agree with you. Anyhow, something s got to be done.” “Yes, it’s void for this reason, continued Mr. Naylor. “As you iare aware if Sir John Fairfield iiau had children his estates would automatically go to his issue. He only had power to win it outside the direct line ini the event of that line failing.” “That’s night!” said Gales, himself a isolicitor, ‘‘l think we understand that, surely?” , . ' Mr. Naylor ignored the interruption. “Well, Sir John had a child,” he continued evenly, to the other’s astonishment. “And that child is Miss Billie Romaine.”. , , . , Mr. Naylor then proceeded in the face of their utter astonishment to tell them the Whole story of the marriage in Russia, and then he paused. “Well, what’s; to be done about it now?” remanded Darwell. . “There's nothing to be done, ’ ©aid Jimmie quietly. “The thing has nothing whatever to do with us. Ive got the title; Miss Romaine’s got the estates —.and you’ve got nothing.” “And I suppose Hargreaves has had a devil of a lot out of all of us! ” put in the exasperated Montagu Darwell. “He’.s had plenty out of me!”, groaned Mr. Gales. “He and his friend with the ginger-beer shop!” Airs Webley sighed in agreement. “It was needlework with me,” she said. “I’ll go and see him!”, announced Harwell portentously. At that moment Hargreaves slipped quietly away from the door and took refuge in a bedroom at the top of the 11/OliS©. “Samuel Hargreaves, my lad,” he said. “It’s getting a bit hot. You d better keep out of the way.” Arid so he dlid, for it was not until all the relatives had departed tlnat lie allowed himself to be found by Sir James Fairfield in the butler’s pantry.

“Well, 1 told you the truth, Sir John, didn’t I, sir,” he said, when J immiie hlad told him the bare facts of what had occurred.

“By gad, you did!” replied Jimmie, “but I’m inclined to think it was more by luck than by knowledge.”. . “Ob, sir!” cried Hargreaves, raising ]d,s eyes. “How could you say sucli a thing?” “Never mind about that; what are you going to do ? I’m quite sure you won’t stay at Beggar’s Ehd. “But—.but —won’t you be here then, sir?” * “Why should I be?”, asked Jimmie impatiently. “The place doesn’t belong to me.” “But it belongs to Miss Romaine, sir,” insinuated Hargreaves, allowing one eye to close slightly. “Same thing, so to speak, sir, isn’t it, if I’m not speaking out of my turn.” 4 ‘No, it isn’t the same thing! answered Jimmie, .shortly. “Anyhow, it’s nothing to do with you, Hargreaves.” ’ “Might I ask, sir, where the will was found?’.’ continued the indomitable one. “You give yourself away there observed Jinnnie, ‘‘because you told me you knew where it was, or suggested as much.” Hargreaves floundered through an explanation, which Jimmie brushed aside. , _ “That’s neither here nor there.. Tlie point is. what are you going to do. You can take it from me very straiglitly that vou won’t stay lien?.” “Well, what am I going to do, then, sir?” “That’s for you to decide. I expect you’ve got a nice bit of money some where, and in any ease, if you haven’t I’m willing to find your fare fo Canada; or you might join your friend 5u the ginger-beer shop, whoever he is. Air Gales mentioned it. At the reference to Air Gales, Hargreaves laughed. * “Exeusiii me, Sir James, at this fatal hour, being so bold as to laugh; but I haven’t half had .some fun with the ’olv Air Gales.” Jinnnie himself was constrained to laugh, for lie visualized the meetings between the two. For a moment lie IV.'lt a pang of regret 'at parting with Hargreaves, for. scamp though he was, he was a scamp with humour. “Wei* 1 , I’ve' told vou what I’ll do, he said, ‘‘so yon can come, to me; for the money when you walmt it-”. “Then I’ll have it, sir,” said Hargreaves. “Funny you mentioned Canada, as I happen to have a friend there, and I know I shouldn’t get aimother butler’s job lieie ill the country, because I can’t get a reference, so. thanking vou, Sir James, I’ll have the money.” ' “Verv well, then, get in touch with me later. I have to return to London immediately.” Sir James Fairfield met Inspector Brent next. day. “I think the butler’s story is a true one,” sakl the latter, for I have spoken to the Home Office pathologist, and he says hr? remarked to himself at the post mortem on the presence of salt in the body, hut lie thought it was just due to some accountable mis-function. I am not sure what's going to lie done, but I doubt verv much whether the. ease will lie revised at this late stage. How’s the old butler, by tlie way?” “Oil. T meant to tell you that,” said Jimmie. ‘‘l’ve had a. wire, to say that the old chap’s pulling round wonderfully.” “Well, he’s done u,s a very good turn,” remarked the Inspector. “That’s right!” agreed the other. “And if he lives IT 1 try to do him one back again. I think T could persuade. Miss Romaine to reinstate- him ns head-butler if she, lives in the house herself. It seems problematical.” It was with this latter query obsessing his mind that he met Billie Romaine that night at. her aunt’s house, in London. Jimmie had been thinking hard about h.is relations with Billie. He was certain she cared for him —the incident in the lane had proved that — while he himself was more, in love-with her than- ever. This discovery had created fresh difficulties-. Could he, he asked himself, ask her to marry him, when she had become even _ more wealthy, whilst he remained with no other income than that derived from his etchings —not that this was an in- 1 significant fact, by any moans, for Fairfield etchings wore well known in all artistic and discriminating circles, and were already commanding (good prices. Nevertheless, Jimmie felt it

woo'd be impossible for him to suggest marriage, and lie therefore coinsidered the present position insurmountable. “Well, Billie,’’ he announcied, “I’ve come to tell you that everything is out. There’s been a meeting of the relations to-day, and Mr Naylor has informed them that Beggar’s End! belongs to you.” “Did he also tel l you that T won't have it?” demanded Billie. “No h? didn’t, because you are going to have it!”

Thev stood a little defiant’y within a- yard of each other, meeting each other’s ey.£« bravely, and each conscious of the other’s thought “I know what’s in your mind, ’ Billie said with a catch i.n her voice. “I I know von’re thinking about -about us And I’m not going to have Begcra'r’s End—in fact, I positively refuse to have —unless ’’ and here her ewes ,shone with tears ‘ “Unless what?” asked Jimmie, retraining with difficulty from taking

her j,n his arms. . - , “Unless I jolly well have you with it,” blurted forth Billie. The 'lurking tears began to overflow, and, almost before lie knew rt,\ Jimmie felt two soft arms round his neck and a smooth., tear-stained cheek against his own. “Welli. that seems to have settled it,” ha said at, last,, after they, hack stood 1 for some moments iii delectable silence. “Yes,” answered Billie, “that settles it,” THE END. ' ' ,