JUSTUS WISE.
■BY ALFBED WILSON-BARRETT. UOFTRIGHX, CHAPTER XIV. The next morning found the confidential agent at his office in good time. He had made the appointment with George Millbank for 11 o'clock in Berkeley Square, and not wanting to bo late he had decided to get early to Holborn, so that he might have time to read and answer any letters which might have come for him there before repairing to Mr. West's house. Not that there were usually any letters of importance awaiting him at his office. His correspondence, at all events, that part of it which came to him, was singularly small, and consisted mainly of "little bills," but in these days when life is so crowded with excitement for the agent, he had de- ■ cided that ouq never knew, and he did not mean to lose any chances. And it was fortunate, as it happened, that he decided as he did, for the post that morning had brought two letters to him and both of them proved to be of an interesting nature. The first one ho opened was from Miss Gertie 'fillet, as an examination of its contents quickly showed him. " Dear Mr. Wise," this run. " Have you found out all about that murder yet. ? Really, l am getting quite ill, worrying about poor old West and puzzling my brains —which I never pretended were my strong point— over the whole affair. Why doesn't the old silly tell what he knows and get out of prison ? What does it matter if he saves himself from this mysterious ruin he talks alxAit if he goes- and gets himself hanged after all ? And you know he is still there, and looks like stopping there, if he don't do something quick. Now, really, Mr. Wise, do make a special effort, and lay your hand on the man who really did murder this unfortunate Mr. Dunton.' Do you know, I have an idea that I have seen him myself. We women are very , queer creatures, and sometimes our ideas are better than you may think. Seen the real murderer, I mean. What do vou say to a short, very broad, grizzled old man ? I know he is a dangerous old brute —he is about 50, really—because he threatened West once; West told me so. And I saw him; because he met West once when I was with him; and even then they had a row. Just the kind of man to murder anyone in a temper. He is brown, dean-shaven and wrinkled, and looks as if he had had a lot of trouble, and he is called Millbank, though I believe he goes under another name, as well, because West called him by both. And by the way, Millbank was the name of the nice little boy in your office the other day, wasn't it? Did you give him my love ? I hope this old beast isn't the father by chance, because I believe he did that murder, and. it is through him that West, poor old West, is in prison. But you must get him out. Remember what a good thing it will be for you. Whv, it will make your reputation, and really I cannot even sleep while this awful suspense is going on. Let me know the first moment you hear anything. In haste, yours truly, " Gertrude Tili.et." Justus read the letter, and then he read it again. Good heavens ! , How extraordinary, he thought. Here was this voluble young lady on precisely the same track as Millbank and himself with regard to Mr. West and the mysterious stranger. And, really, with a certain amount to be said for her theory, if West were indeed innocent. How strange ! And Millbank, too ! The man's name was Millbank. Justus's mind went back to his sister's letter. West's former partner, who had been prosecuted for depending upon him, had been named Millbank also, according to his sister's information. But he, also according to her, died in prison. But then she had been vague about the whole business. Could he be still alive; and was this man he*, and—Justus's thoughts flow to George Millbank, and his confession that he know nothing of his family— could it be possible that he was the young man's father ? If it were indeed so, that would explain much, but. —but it led Justus where he did not like to think, and he turned to the other letter.
And then ho saw that it was from his sister herself, and he opened it with interest.
"My dear Justus," the letter ran, written in Miss West's firm, business-like hand,— "You told me to let you know if I had happened to hear anything more of William West, the financier, or his affairs. Of course you know, as all London is ringing with it, that he has been arrested on a charge of murder and taken to Bow-street. I don't know whether he did commit this crime or not, but I am quite sure that anyone who makes money as quickly as he makes it, and in the ways he does, is quite capable of committing murder or any other crime, and that if he didn't he might have done. Well, I have-not heard much more that would interest you, but I have heard this much. The same person that told me about his partner, Millbank, tells me that he and West and this man Dunton were very thick together out in South Africa 20 years ago, and that they all three made the place too hot for them. And they all split up and quarrelled. Who swindled is not quite clear, but probably they all swindled one another, and Millbank went to prison, where he died, as I told you. However, neither the party that told me this, nor I myself, want to be dragged into Court to give evidence concerning anything of this, even should there be any occasion, so please remember that. If the information is of any use to you. use it, but remember that I am a busy woman, and have better things to attend to than wasting my time being badgered about' and treated as a criminal by some whipper-snapper of a young fool, or an old fool, of a barrister, who, like all lawyers, would steal the coppers off his grandmother's eyelids if he had a chance, and pretend butter wouldn't melt in his mouth when he stands up with his wig on and bullies inoffensive witnesses; so tear this letter up when you have read it, and keep, your counsel if you want to keep friendly with me. And now you can do something to serve me, if you will. In the building where I understand your flic a is, there is a Mr t JVyvill—at least, that is
the address he gave me, and his name is certainly in the Poet Office Directory. He is secretary to something which is called the Wapiti Syndicate, lhat means you will perhaps know better than I do. At any rate, he has been a customer of mine for some time now, like a lot of other men who ought to know better, though I can't grumble, as it is my trade. He is a redhaired, cross-eyed fellow with a pasty face, which is some excuse for his wanting a beauty doctor, and he has been to me on and off for a long time now for face massage, and to have his eyebrows touched up aid his hair tuned down a little so that it won't set his hat on fire. Why he don't have it dyed altogether I don't know, but I daresay he wouldn't look any less ugly, and it is his own business. Well, he has paid me fairly regularly up to about a month ago for what I did for him; but since then I can't get anything out of him, and he now owes a considerable sum. The last time he came in he was very strange, and I think he had been getting into trouble, for he had a- cut on his head that came from the back and went right across the eyebrow, and lie looked as if he had been drinking heavily, too. I did up the cut as well as I could, and painted up his eyebrow so that none would have noticed it unless they had kissed him, which isn't very likely. But ho hasn't paid for that nor for the old account either, and, taking one thing with another, I thought you might be iu the way of finding out for me what hits financial position is at this time. We cannot- afford to give long credit and lose our money in my business, and, on the other hand, I don't want to part with a good customer by taking him into the county court; so if you can let me know how he stands and what my prospects are of getting my money, you will be of considerable service to your affectionate sister, Clementina Wise."
This letter gave Justus even more food for thought than had Miss Gertie Tillet's missive a few minutes earlier, and for a long time he sat iu his office chair with his half-closed eyes turned meditatively up to the smoke-blackened ceiling, and his white fingers idly unfolding the parchment [Viper Miss Wise affected. So long indeed did he sit, that he awoke from his day dreaips at last to find that it was a quarter to eleven, and that he would have only just time, if that, to reach Berkeley Square at the hour of his appointment.
He sprang hastily to his feet and, putting the two letter* into his pocket, called for his clerk, warning him that he was going out and might be some time absent. Ho quickly gathered up his hat, which he had mended up as best he could, and regretting he had left it too late now to purchase a new one, he made his way downstairs, and, calling to a passing cab, sprang into it. "Berkeley Square, cabman," lie said. " I am in a hurry," and, putting on his gloves, he settled himself down to watch the clocks as they whizzed along. Holborn was crowded, and so was Ox-ford-street and, though the cabman did his best, it was already past eleven when they drove up to Mr. West's house in Berkeley Square. But yet, to Justus's surprise, there was so sign of George Millbank awaiting him in the street, where they had appointed to meet each other.
And even when he had paid his driver, had an argument over a little matter of the tip, and walked twice up and down the side of the square, still there came no glimpse of the young man. Justus bit his lips and looked up at the windows.
" I hope my engaging young client m£iy not be going to fail me," he pondered. "It will be very awkward. I should particularly like to see htfti, and I should also particularly like to hear what that pretty young lady has to say about things this morning, but certainly I cannot take it upon myself to go in and call upon her alone. Dear, dear! why doesn't the young gentleman come! Hullo, who is this?"
At that moment a neat little dark blue brougham drove up to the door, and out stepped a middle-aged, frock-coated gentleman, who passed up the stairs and, ringing the bell, entered, in response to Butt's gesture, with the air of one familiar to the house.
" That gentleman is the family physiciah, I am certain," mused Justus, searching for a monogram upon the carriage door. 'E.S.' Probably the great Selby himself. 1 am afraid the young lady is not well this morning." After a few minutes, the door opened again and the middle-aged gentleman emerged, ushered out by Butt, who, Justus noticed, looked harassed and ill himself.
" I will call again on my way home," said the visitor, looking back as he got half-way down the steps. " That will be in about an hour's time, I hope." " Thank you, sir," replied the old manservant, respectfully. " I am sure it's very good of you ; I will tell Mr. Millbank, sir." . -
And the owner of the brougham drove off. " Evidently the doctor," said Justus to himself, " but call again on his way home, and this is evidently his second visit already to-day ! Wl\v, what on earth does this mean, and why did the man say he would tell Mr. Millbank? Can it be possible that anything very serious is the matter, and that my young friend is already in the house?"
He gazed after the brougham meditatively, and then, turning, he saw that the old butler was still standing on the doorstep.
Making up his mind, he caught Butt's eye, and mounted the step in his turn.
"Good morning," he said, "you will remember me, I think. I have been here on two occasions with Mr. George Millbank. I was here last evening, when Mr. Millbank made an appointment to see me here again this morning; he arranged to meet me outside in the street, but"
" Yes, sir I remember you very well, sir," interrupted the old man-servant.i "Why, but Mr. George has been here two hours or more; we sent for him as early as we could. Why, he must have altogether forgotten his appointment with you; and. excuse me, sir, it is no wonder if he'd forgotten anything under the circumstances."
"Under the circumstances?" queried the agent, struck by the old man's tone. Yes, sir; it is terrible. Haven't you heard? But no, of course, what am I thinking how could you! Poor Miss Sophie I had better leave it to Mr. George to tell you all about it. He will be glad to see you, I expect, sir, though he do seem to nave forgotten having arranged to meet you. He has been doing nothing the last hour or more but walk up and down the smoking-room, kicking at the carpet and asking when the doctor was coming." "But, good heavens, what has happened then?" asked the agent, dismayed. " Is Miss West very illhas she met with an accident, or what? Ah, but here is my young friend." For that moment Millßank himself appeared in the hall, and, catching sight of Justus, came towards him rapidly. "Oh, Mr. Wise," he said, "I am so awfully sorry; you must really forgive me —I forgot all about our appointment until this moment. Something terrible has happened, so horrible that—but come inside; you must not stand there. Come into the smoking-room. I want your advice; you can be of the greatest possible assistance at the present moment. That scoundrelbut come in and I will tell yoa e\erything." Justus, bewildered, followed him obediently into the smoking-room, and after the young man had closed the door, turned to him inquiringly. "What is it that has happened, Mr. Millbank?" he asked. "-Something to do with Miss West, I fear." Millbank's eyes filled, with tears which lie in vain attempted to hide, and he nodded, unable to speak for a moment. "Yes, Mr. Wise," he said at last; "it is her. She is ill, lying now between life and death, murdered." "Murdered?" gasped the agent. " Attacked and robbed and cruelly beaten because she attempted to resist the robbery, the dear little plucky girl! Murdered—yes, for it will be murder if she should— she should die; and she may die, Mr. Wise; the doctor says so. She is now hovering between life and death, and—and we snail not know for some hours, perhaps days.' "Mr. Millbank, you have my sincerest sympathy," said the agent, really touched by the news and the young man's grief. " And I cannot tell you how much I am affected. But. how did it happen? leU wWha;ijdona jthij*!"
"We do not know,' replied Millbank. "But, by heaven, Mr. Wise, we will know, and, by heaven, he shall pay for I it! _ I will never rest day or night till he is hunted down. The scoundrel! the heartless scoundrel, to hurt her I" " The whole world will be with you and help you in such circumstances," said Justus; "but you do not know, you say?". " No, we know hardly anything. She, poor little girl, was found screaming and wounded this morning at an early hour in the study—in Mr. West's study. . She had her dressing-gown on, and had evidently come down to the room for some reason or other and been attacked there." " And she could say nothing?" " She was crying something about a paper when she was found. ' The paper—oh, the paper!' she said continually. 'I didn't knowoh, oh! I didn't know!' But later she became unconscious, before she could say anything more connected, and she has spoken nothing since." " But you say ' robbery.' She was robbed?" "It is evident. Not only did she cry out about the papers, but it is certain that some document was the object of the scoundrel's visit and attack upon her, for though nothing of any other value was taken from the house, all the desks and cupboards in Mr. West's room were broken open and turned out, and their contents scattered right and left. OTi, it is clear, and now, by heavens, Mr. Wise, that I think of it, it was only yesterday that she mentioned a paper, after that man had been, and why, good heavens! it must have been he himself, come back again, as I live. That scoundrel that we found in your office, and whom you chased yesterday the murderer! Yes, a murderer before, he is twice a murderer now, for it was he, I am sure of it, it was he!"
CHAPTER XY. "Yes, I am right; it is that man!" repeated George Millbank, clenching his fists and looking fiercely into the agent's eyes. "Can't you see it, man? Can't you see itf' Justus, staggered, thought furiously. " Yes, Millbank must be right," he concluded. "This mysterious grizzled stranger knew West and had had a violent quarrel with him in that very house, a quarrel which Miss West fancied was about some document. This document he had evidently not succeeded in obtaining, for he had left the house in a rage. Then West had been arrested. Now the man had come to see Sophie. He had threatened or frightened her, and again had asked for some paper or other, and again he had left, furious, at having failed in his object. And now, the poor young girl had been attacked, half-murdered, and the desks and cupboards in West's study had been forced open in a hunt—for what? For the paper, of course. Yes, it must be the stranger. Would such a man —the man Justus caught in his office, the man who had knocked him down, the man he already suspected of another murwould such a man hesitate at robbery and assault to obtain what was evidently of .such importance to him? No!
"You are right," he said at last. "It must have been that man. But he is a daring scoundrel — to think of the way he has slipped us each, time!" " Don't let him do eo again, Mr. Wise," said Millbank "earnestly. " But he shall not. We will put our hands on him. He shall be punished, I swear. I dare not leave this house till the doctor returns, and I know one way or the other what his verdict is, but when I have learned that— let that wretch look out for himself!"
"You must stay here, of course, for the present," said Justus, "but I can be doing something meanwhile. There is one connecting link between us and that grizzled gentleman, and that is Mr. Wyvill. He is searching for Wyvill as keenly as we are searching for him—and Wyvill cannot keep away for ever. I think, as I can do nothing here, and as you are going to stay at all events some time in the house, I will run out and see if there is any news yet of the secretary. Once we find him we shall learn something about the other, I fancy." " Go, by all means," said Millbank. " Hark! is that a noise from upstairs? No, it is nothing. Yes,. I shall wait till the doctor has seen her again. You will find me here." , ' ■ The agent nodded, and with a sympathising glance at the young man's haggard, anxious face softly left the house. "Dear, dear! this is all very sad," he thought as he made his way across Berkeley Square. " I should like to help that nice young couple, I really should. Confound that slippery old gentleman with the broad shoulders! By the way, that thirty pounds of his will pay for. my hat, which he spoilt. But that's, a funny thing, his wanting so badly to find my young client and then backing out of it after all! But then there are so many funny things about this —reallv, it is all very' confusing. However, one thing is clear to my mind— there are three other people who could explain a very great deal of it: this grizzled gentleman, Mr. West, and the secretary of the Wapiti Syndicate. The first has defeated us for the present; the second may or may not give the police information, but he is in prison and so no use for me; the —but I will ring up Dark and 6ee what news there is about him." - In pursuance of this resolve Justus looked about him for a public telephone office, but these conveniences do not always abound either in Berkeley Square or in Brook-street, whither he wended his way, and it was not until he had gone almost as far as Oxford-street that the familial* blue sign with its white letters caught his eye.
• Carefully providing himself with some coppers —for he knew how often the "didn't hear it drop" of the telephone young lady resounds in the ear of the oppressed business man— stepped into the little padded box, and taking down *<he receiver called up the number of his office.
But he might apparently have spared himself his trouble, for three or four minutes elapsed and nothing happened. Then the answer made its -way over the wires" reply, call again." The agent banged down the receiver in disgust. ' "Dear, dear! I believe, those girls do it on purpose," he said pulling his whiskers. "It is impossible that Dark can be out. He never goes out, and he always answers the telephone at once. Now.. I shall have to go down to the office, and probably on a wild goose chase, unless" — and an idea striking him, he picked up the telephone-book hurriedly. " Why shouldn't I ring up the secretary himself?" he thought. "He won't know my voice, probably, and I shall find out, at all events, if he has" returned." He quickly discovered the number of the Wapiti Syndicate, and wondering that he had not thought of the idea before, asked to be put on to "123 Hop." " I don't care much»for the sound of that number," he thought; "it is suggestive, but, after all, I am not superstitious. " Hullo! Is that the Wapiti Syn—why! what is this? Good heavens! why, as I am a living man, that is his voice!" Justus's amazement was justified, but it arose from an accident which, either from carelessness on the part of the telephone girls or from some other cause, very often happens., As he stood, awaiting the call to put his pennies in., with the receiver in his hand, the sound of a familiar voice broke upon the ear, and in a second he realised that he had been rung into the middle of a conversation, and that that conversation was between the two men he most wanted to find in all London. For there was no mistaking the voice of the. person who was speaking now; it was that of the mysterious stranger, and the second one could only be—for the stranger addressed him by his name —Wyvill himself. "... for two days" stranger's voice came over the wires, and Justus, with the receiver glued to his ear, held hie breath, as if the slightest movement on his part would attract the speaker's attention to himself —" and understand, Edward Wyvill, once and . finally, that this must cease. For my son's cake, I have been silent till now, but the limit ha* been reached, and what must happen now you will have brought on yourself." "But," came a voice which the agent felt to be the secretary's, " if you will only is" useless!" interrupted the , first "It is useless! interrupted the nret voice, sterner if possible than before. "It must be done! I shall, I must tell all I know, and-— "Oh, good God! no, Millbank—notthatv! "You wouldn't do that! You know how it happened! You know—" " It is because I know so much that I am deterauAedj" ,cmwther-&^ycice^ . };$S . . U-'"'
you have cause to know how little I vary when my purpose is fixed." " But," cried the second voice, almost a shriek this time, "a day or two mote would —oh! give me time! Good heavens! man, you wouldn't send me —" The voices stopped as suddenly as they •had commenced; there was a whirr of the instrument; and the girl's voice came again. "Was it ' 123 Hop' you wanted?" Good heavens ! he was done for; the mistake had been found out, he was cut off, and just at the moment when—oh, this was too much. Justus bounded from one side of the padded box to the other in his excitement. " Yes, yes, ' 123 Hop,' " he cried wildly. "I was in the middle of a conversation when you cut me off. Put me on again, quick —quick !" There was a silence, and then the female voice came again, "123 tfop.—number engaged. Call again, please." " Engaged ! Of course it was !" Justus tore his hair. " Yes, I know !" he cried, " but get me through again, my good girl; you don't know, you really don't know how very important it is." " Number engaged. Call again, please. Can t you hear me T' came the female voice, rather irate this time.
Justus's fingers worried large holes in the linoleum that lined the box, but with a struggle, he made his voice soothing. " Yes, yes, I can hear." he said. "Oh ! don't go away, please ! Yes, I understand, but Iyou happened to ring me into the middle of a conversation between two friends of mine just now at '123 Hop,' and " It was an accident if I did, and I didn't know it. However, the number is engaged now, and you must wait." " But I was listening, and" " Then you shouldn't have been 1" came the damsel's voice again, and there was silence. "Oh ! This is too awful !" cried Justus, banging the receiver-rest wildly up and down. " Now she has gone, too. Oh ! my good girl, my dear young lady, come back ! Oh ! They will be gone, and i was just/ on the point of hearing —damn ! She won't even answer now !" He flung down the receiver with a crash that nearly broke the cord. " May you oh, well, after all, I may still get to the office in time," he decided suddenly. "Why, of course ! What an ass I am to be wasting precious moments here ! I may catch them even now." . , And tearing open the door of the box he darted into the street. (To. lie continued on Wednesday next.)
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New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVII, Issue 14531, 19 November 1910, Page 3 (Supplement)
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4,613JUSTUS WISE. New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVII, Issue 14531, 19 November 1910, Page 3 (Supplement)
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