THE NINE BEARS.
PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.
BY EDGAR -WALLACE.
Author of " Mission That Failed," " Writ in Barracks," Unofficial Despatches," " The Four Just Men," etc., etc.
CHAPTER XX.—(Continued).
T. B. Smith took down his overcoat and struggled into it, made a selection ol keys from his pocket, and went out. It was a forlorn hope, but forlorn hopes had often been the forerunners of victory with him, and there was nothing to be lost by trying. He came to the great hall of the mansion in Baker-street-. The hall porter recognised him and touched his cap. , " Evening, sir." Then, 4 'l suppose you know the young lady hasn't come back yet?" T.B. did know, but said nothing. The porter was in a talkative mood. " She cent mo a wire from Liverpool, saying that she'd been called away suddenly." T.B. nodded. He knew this, too, for it was he who had sent the wire. " What the other young lady couldn't understand," continued, the porter, and T.B.'s heart gave a leap, "was, why—" " Why she hadn't wired her, eh !" the detective jumped in. " Well, you see, she was so busy- . "Of course The porter clucked his lips impatiently. "Of course, you saw her off, didn't you, sir?" "I saw her off," said T.B. gravely, "I'd forgotten that; why, you went away together, an' I never told the young lady. She's upstairs in Miss Silinski's flat at this moment. My word, she's been horribly worried—"
'' I'll go up and see her. As a matter of fact, I've come here for the purpose," said T.B. quickly.
He took the lift to the second floor, and walked along the corridor. He reached No. 43 and his liand was raised to press the little electric bell of the suite when the door opened! quickly and a girl stepped out. She gave a startled cry as she saw the detective, and drew back.
" I beg your pardon," said T. 8., with a smile. "I'm afraid I startled you."
She was a big florid girl with .a certain awkwardness of movement.
"Well dressed: but gauche," mentally summarised t.ho detective. "Provincial! she'll talk."
"I was a little startled," she said-, with a ready smile. " 1 thought it was the postman."
" But surely postmen do not deliver lettens in this palatial dwelling," lie laughed. " I thought the hall porter" " Oh, but this ie a registered letter," she said importantly, "from America." All the time T.B. was thinking out some method by which he might introduce the object of his visit. An idea struck 'him.
"Is your mother"—she, looked blank — " er —-aunt within?" lie asked.
He saw the slow suspicion gathering on her face.
"I'm not a burglar," lie smiled, "in spite of my alarming- question, but Fm in rather a quandary. I've a friendwell, not exactly a friend I have business with Miss Silinski, and"
" Here's the postman," she interrupted. A quick step sounded in. tlio passage, the bearer.. "f King's mails, with a flat parcel in his hand, and his eyes searching the door numbers, stopped before them. "Hyatt?" ho asked, glancing at the address.
"Yes," said the girl; "is that my parcel?"
"Yes, .miss, will you. sign?" Hyatt?" murmured T. 8., "what an extraordinary coincidence. You are nob by any chance related to the unfortunate young man, the story of whose sad death has been filling the newspapers?" She flushed and her lip trembled. "He was my brother; did you know him?"
' "I knew of him," said T.B. quietly, " but I did not know you lived in London!" " Nor do I," said the girl; "it is only by the freat kindness of Senora Silinski that I am here."
There was no time for delicate finesse. He slid his card case from his pocket. "Will you let me come in and talk with you?" he said; then, as he saw again the evidence of her suspicion, "I am a police officer, and what I Live to ask yon is of the greatest importance to you and to mo." She took the pasteboard, and, as T.B. had anticipated, fell into a, flutter of agitation.
" Oh, please come in! Was it wrong to come to London? , The senora. was so anxious that nobody should know I was hero. I've been so worried: about her—"
She led tho way into a handsomely furnished sitting-room. ''inrsfc of all," said T.B. quietly, " you must tell me how the senora found you." " She came to Falmouth and sought me out. It was not difficult. I have a little millinery establishment there, and my name is well known. She came one morning, eight days—no— : it was seven days ago, and—" " What did she want?"
"She said she "had known Charles; ho had some awfully swagger friends; that is what got him into trouble at the post office; it was a great blow to us, because"
"What did she want?" asked T. 8., cutting short the loquacity. " Sho said that Charles had something of hers— book which she had lent him years before. .Now, the strange thing was that on tha very day poor Charles was killed I had a telegram which ran: 'If anything happens, tell Escoltier book is at Antaxia, New York.' It wag unsigned, and I did not connect it with Charles. You see, I hadn't hoard; from him for years. " She was a great friend of Charles's— the senora—and she enm« down especially about the book. Sho said Charles had got into trouble and she wanted the book to save him. Them I showed her the telegram. .'? I was confused., but I wanted to help Charles." Sho gulped down a sob. "I asked her who Escoltier was."'
"Yes?' asked T.B. qufSftly. "She said he was a friend of hers who was interested in tho book. She went away, but camo back soon afterwards and told me that ' An tax ia' was the telegraphic address of a safe deposit in New York. She was very nice and 1 offered to pay for a cable to the deposit. So I wired: ' I'lease forward by registered post t he book deposited by Charles Hyatt' and I signed it 'Eva Hyatt,' and gave my address. By tlio evening the reply camo: 'Forwarded; your previous wire did not comply with our instructions.'"
"I see," said T.B.
"Well, that is more than I can," said _,ho girl, with a smile, " because only one wire wag sent. The Kewora wan surprised, too, .and a little annoyed, and paid: 'How foolish it was of mo not to ask you your Christian name.' Well, then the senora insisted, upon my coming to stay with her till the book came. I came expecting I should find Charles. buthut
Her eyes wero filled with tears. " I read in a newspaper that ho was dead. It was the first thing I saw in London, tho bill of a newspaper —" T.B. gave her time to recover her voice. " And tho eenora?" "She took this furnished flat near to here," said the girl; " she lives here—" "Does she?" asked T.B. artlessly. Ho: took up the registered parcel which slit had' put on the table. ; It was fairly light. "Now. Miss Hyatt," ho said. "I want you to do something for me; and I. must tell you that, although I ask it as a favour, I can enforce my wishes as a right." "I will do anything," said the girl eagerly. " Very well; you must let me take this book away." "But it is not mine; it belongs to the seixora," she protested; "and it is to save/ my brother's name—"
"Miss Hyatt," said T.B. gently, "I must take this book which has so 'providentially come into mv hands, not to save your brother's name, hut to bring to justice the men .who took his life,."- / .. : * V • ;; :- .
As ho spoke there camo a knock at the. door; and, hastily drying her eyes, the girl opened it. A porter handed her a. telegram, and .she came back into tho light of the room to open it. Siie read it. and re-read it, then looked at T.B. with bewilderment written on her lace. " What does this mean?" she said.
T.B. took tho telegram from her hand; it ran :
"By wireless from Bonana City. Do not part with book to anybody on any account.—Catherine Silinski."
T.B. handed the telegram back. "It means," he said, "that our friend is just two minutes too late."
CHAPTER, XXI
Wherever men meet they spoke of one thing; they had one subject of conversation ; in train or in club-room; in bar or meeting-place; in barrister's robing-room.; in prisoner's waiting bull—the Castilia, and Spain. Small doubt but that there were, demands, irresponsible demands, for satisfaction, after satisfaction had been given. But tangible satisfaction was needed. Spain had dared. . . . insult to the might and majesty of Britain—war must be a. logical outcome —and the like. These outpourings appeared in many newspapers under the heading, " Letters to the Editor." Some newspapers would not print them because of a curious resemblance between them.
The editor of the London Journal made this discovery. The Journal is a newspaper controlled by a great syndicate which owns a newspaper in every one of the great centres of industry throughout Great Britain. It lias a system of exchanging confidences, and, as a result, it was found that a letter addressed to the Northern Journal and Times was identical, word for 'word, with a letter addressed to the London paper. With this difference, that whilst one was signed "J. Y. Barver," tho other bore the magnificent signature of "Orlando T. Sabout." The editor sent both letters to T. B. Smith, and T.B. grinned unpleasantly, but with some admiration for the completeness of the Nine Men's organisation.
On top of these letters, was revived a form of publicity which had long since fallen into desuetude pamphlet. Three pamphlets were shot suddenly into the market. This was thfc second day after the sinking of the Castilia. ' One, the more virulent, was called "A Blow at Protestantism," and was an invitation to England to sweep Europe clear of the " Catholic menace."
Neither pamphlet could have been written in two days. They must have been prepared a fortnight to a month in advance of the disaster. They bore no publisher's imprint or printer's advertisement.
" This business is a little too hot to hold," said the editor in a final interview with T.B. "To-night I must tell tho whole of the story." T.B. nodded.
"To-night," said T. 8., "you can tell what you like. I shall have played my titake for good or ill." "I have been talking with Escoltier; we have got him lodged in Scotland Yard -—though you needn't, mention that fact in your account—and I think we know enough now to trap the Nine Men." " Who are they and what does the 'C' stand for in 'N.H.C.'?"
"I can only guess," said T.B. cautiously. "Do you know anything" about wireless telegraphy?" ho demanded. " Not much," admitted tho editor.
"Well, you know enough to realise that the further you wish to communicate the more electrical energy you require?" "That much I understand," said ; ±W' journalist. " Tb" I s tho 'rings Off tlio pond.' You throw a stone into still water, and immediately rings grow outward. The bigger the stone, the farther reaching the rings." " At Poldhu," continued T. 8., " Hyatt was in charge of the long-distance instrument. As a matter of fact, the work he was engaged on was merely experimental, but his endeavour seemed to be centred in securing the necessary energy for communicating 900 miles. ;: Of course, wireless telegraphy is practicable up to and beyond 3000 miles, but few installations are capable of transmitting . that distance. " So 'C' is, you think, within 900 miles of Cornwall?"
T.B. nodded
"I have a feeling that I know 'C,' " ho said. " I have another feeling that these wireless messages do not come from 'C at all, but from a place adjacent. However,"— took from his pocket a flat exercise book filled with closely-written columns of words and figures" wo shall 'see."
He took a cab from Fleet-street; and, arriving at the Government block of buildings which shelters the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty," he entered its gloomy doors. A messenger came forward to inquire his business, but was forestalled by a keen little man with tanned face and twinkling eyes. "Sailor" was written on every line of his mahogany face. " Hullo, my noble policeman," ho greeted T.B. " Who is the victim- —the First Sea Lord or the Controller of the Victualling Department?" "To be precise, Almack," said T.B. "I have come to arrest Reform, which. I gather" "No politics," smiled Captain John Almack, E.N. " What is the game?" "It is what our mutual friend Napoleon would call a negative problem .in strategy," the Assistant-Commissioner replied. "I. want to ask an ethei-al friend, who exists somewhere in space, to come in a.nd. be killed.''
Captain Almack led tho way up a flight of stairs.
"We got a request from your commissioner; and, of course, the Lords of the Admiralty are only too pleased to put tho instrument at your disposal." " They aro very charming," murmured T.B.
" They instructed mo to keep a watchful eye on you. We have missed things since your last visit." "That sounds like a jovial lie," said T.B. frankly. In the orderly instrument room they found an operator in attendance, and T.B. lost no time.
"Call N.H.C.," he said; and, whilst tho instrument clicked and snapped obedient to tho man's Land, T.B. opened his little exercise book and composed a message. lie had finished his work long before any answer came to the call. For half-an-hour they waited whilst tho instrument clicked monotonously. " Dash-dot, dot-dot-dot-, dot-dash-dot.''
And over and over again. " Dash-dot, dot-dot-dot, dash-dot-dash-
dot. ''
Then .suddenly the operator stopped, and there came a new sound.
They waited in tense silence. " Answered," said tho operator. "Take this." T.B. handed him a slip of paper.
As the man sent the message out with emphatic tappings, Captain A 1 mack took the translation that T.B. handed to him.
" To N.H.C. There is trouble here. I must sco you. Important. Can you meet me in Paris to-morrow?''
After this message had gono through there was a wait of five minutes. Then tho answer came, and the man at the instrument wrote down unintelligible words which T.B. translated.
" Impossible. Come to H. Will meet S.E. Have you got the book?"
"Reply 'Podaba;' " instructed T. 8., spelling the word. "Now een<l this." He handed another slip of paper across the table, and) passed tho translation back to the man behind him.
'Ms Gibraltar intercepting messages?" it ran. Again tho wait, and again the staccato reply.
" Unlikely, but will send round to-mor-row to make sure. Good-niglit."
IIVU S>UI v 7« VJWU-lllglll>. (To bo continued daily.)
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 14567, 2 January 1911, Page 3
Word Count
2,473THE NINE BEARS. New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 14567, 2 January 1911, Page 3
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