MR MAX OF SCOTLAND YARD.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9213, 16 April 1908, Page 4

MR MAX OF SCOTLAND YARD.

(By CHARLES OLIVER.)

No. VI. BLACKVALLEY FARM.

[Axx Rights Rxssbvxd.]

"This is the last talk we' shah have," ' Baid Mr Max as we shook hands next day, " as far as we can see, that is, for to-morrow we should be on the river. I've been looking up my tools to-day. And that reminds me that I have never shown you my armoury. Come in." He took me into his bedroom, which was arranged with a simple iron bedstead and the plainest of furniture. There were no curtains to the windows, and' here, as in the other rooms, no lock to the door. Against one wall stood a large, half-glass cupboard, on the shelves of which lay rods, and reels, and fly-books, and other fishing necessaries, all in perfect order. I turned over his stock with a connoisseur's interest. "This is a curious-looking beast," 1 said, holding up a rather coarsely-made, reddish-brown fly. "I have never seen it before." . . , , • " No," he replied, "it is a local production, pretty effective, too, in its locality, which is Blackvalley, in the jWrekin district of S Vopshire. And the fly has come in at t\e right moment to suggest a topic for to-day. Would you like to hear just one more of my ; experiences? Yes? Well, then, let us Bit in front." . We took our chairs out and ne be"lt was after my retirement. I bad not had a holiday for yean?, and now that I had begun my great vacation, which might be as long as I wishled for I have no pecuniary necessity 'to work again, I hardly knew what on i earth to do with myself. Then a !nioi»th'B fishing suggested itself, as (combining the attraction of the sport iswth the opportunity of reflection on }my future, and I took the hint of a 'friend and went down to the Wrekin country. I put up at a small village in Blackvalley, and found that my friend's recommendation was a sound one in every cense. There were plenty of fish, the prettiest runs and pools you ''could dream of. a magnificent country, and solitude. I was as nearly happy as it is in my nature to- be. , "One day I had £one a long way up the river, throwing an occasional fly, but thinking rather than fishing. Bo I went further than usual, and came upon a little farm that I had never. Been before. The afternoon was hot, and. l was lazy. I stowed my rod away Six the rocks and went up to the house to see what there was to be had there for a thirsty teetotaler. "It was a snug little place, with, a substantial cottage on one side of a clean-flagged court, and neat' farmbuildings on the other three. On a stool before the cottage door sat an old jnan, who glared at me savagely, growled out something, picked up his stool, and went into the house. Then a woman came out. " 'What can I do for you, 6ir? 6he said. 'You mustn't mind my poor tusband. He's weak in the head, and v 9. great burden on me, but, oh ! it is so good for us to be in tribulation.' " I did not very much like the look of the woman. She was forty-five, perhaps, tall and upright, with a grim lace and steely eyes, which showed that whatever else tribulation had done for her it had not softened her. However, "ihe was hospitable enough, brought out » little table into the court, and laid it with tea and eggs, and an excellent local clotted cream. She would not bear of any remuneration. '"We axe told in the Blessed Book to entertain strangers hospitably,', she ■aid. " 'Gar, you fool I' shouted the old man from inside. ' I'll have the dogs on to him.' " The woman got up silently and went in. What she said or did Ido not know, but the old man made no more remarks. " She came and sat down, and we talked for a few minutes. She told me that her husband's name wa6 William 'Beevor, and that he owned the farm, which, now that he was decrepit, she

worked with the aid of a bailiff, a certain Robert Williams. The bailiff came in at this moment and joined us. He was a man of fifty, a tall, slouching fellow, with a crafty eye and a bad smile, and I took the liberty of distrusting him straight away. " Our conversation ran upon the weather, fishing, the farming prospects and so on, and was lavishly garnished by Mrs Beevor and Williams with religious tags and ends. But it seemed to me that Williams was rather less spontaneous and to the point than Mrs Beevor ; it looked to me as if he were playing a part. And so it turned out to be, for when I went away he walked with me down to the river, and I never saw a man veer so sharp round sus that fellow. Butter wouldn't have melted in his mouth before, but now granite would have curled up in it. But I preferred his foulness to his cant. "' I am glad to get away for a minute,' he said, and I spare you his oaths. 'I can assure you it isn't any great catch livin' up here. To begin with, there's old Beevor; a wicked demon'he always was, a graepin', cruel, drinkin' hound, and now that he 6 soft in the head, I really can hardly hold my fingers off him. Then there's Sarah ; a good sort, keeps the show together. But she's got religion to . the extent that I go nearly silly at times, I've the trick of it well, though, haven't I, now? Quite the real thing. And the worst of it is, not a drop of Christian liquor within two miles. Sarah won't have it near the farm., and it's more'n my place is worth to smuggle it in. You haven't a flask on you, have you? Oh, I forgot, you're of her way of thinkin'. Not that I believe in her rigmarole, not I. She's precious down on that old brute, and there she's right, say I. But I suppose she isn't easy in. her conscience, and she tries to make up with all this goody-goody. I wish the old lunatic would die; it would be quite simple then.-' " He followed me down the stream a little way, watching my fly and grumbling at his own hard fate. Then he wished me good-night, and slouched away across the fields. " I found myself a good deal at the Blackvalley Farm in the course of the next few days. I generally got there about five, and turned there for my homeward journey. Either Mrs Beevor or Williams would be on the lookout, and would hail me from the window of the house. Then I would sit for a few moments in the court to smoke a pipe and- talk. C)ld Beevor seemed to have taken an insuperable dislike to me, and the moment he saw me would pick up his stool and run into the house, with his head all fiery Ted and rage spitting out of his little blear- . Ed eyes. IVirs Beevorj it seemed to me lost patience with him more and more easily, and never forgot that chas.tening, verbal, at any rate, is a part bf love. And Williams cast up his 6ly eyes at Mrs Beevor, and turned on the spiritual tap till I could have beaten him. His game was so easy to read.

" It happened that one morning, the weather not being very favourable, I determined to reverse my usual programme, walk straight up to the Blackvalley Farnij^and begin my fishing down stream from there, on the chance of the elements being more propitious in the afternoon. I got to the farm about eleven o'.clock and walked into the court, as I wanted to consult Williams about a fly of which he had told me, the same thai you were looking at in my case. There was no one about, but" from one of the barns came the sound of vigorous blows on a wooden surface. I went to the door of the building, as I thought I should probably find the bailiff doing repairs, perhaps to one of the farm carts. He was not there, and the noise I had heard was produced by old Beevor's iron-shod heels beating a devil's tattoo on the wooden partition of the barn. The tattoo was getting feebler, and if I had not arrived at that moment it would probably have stopped altogether, for the old man was hanging by the neck, and was already black in the face.

"You' may imagine I did not lose very much time in setting up his stool, which was overturned at his side, jumping on to it, and getting him down. But, quick as I was, I Quad the opportunity of observing a very peculiar fact, which I will refer to later. I laid the old man on the ground and loosened his collar, and when I saw signs that he had not turned the fatal corner I went into the court and called, out very quietly: " 'Mrs Beevor ! M r Williams !' "The two immediately appeared, Mrs Beevor at the kitchen door and Williams from an outbuilding. You would have said that they must have had some presentiment of the tragedy that had only just been averted, for they were both as pale as death. '''You, Mr Smith?' they cried together. That was the name I was living under down there. You see, I had ] a biggish reputation in those days, and ! I am not one of those people who like ito be stared at. ' You, Mr Smith? j What is it?'

" ' Come at once,' I answered. ' Old Mr Beevor has tried to hang himself, and a very good attempt too.' "'Hang himself?' stammered Mrs

Beevor. 'Hang himself? Impossible ! To co with all his ems upon him. . . .' "~* He hasn't quite gone yet,' I answered, ' and the best thing you can do will be to get some water and help to- bring him back.'

"We got the old man to bed, and by means of the application of hot bricks to his feet and vigorous massage we restored him to a feeble degree of vitality. But it was evident that his wits were quite astray, and, to anticipate things, he never recovered them again. He recognised no one till the day of his death, and simply lay m his bed and flickered out like a lamp some three months later. "When we had done all wo could do for him we went downstairs,, and Mrs Beevor pressed me to stop for dinner. I had a thing or two to say to her and Williams, and I accepted her invitation. It was naturally rather a solemn meal, a-nd the grace with which Mrs Beevor commenced it was appropriately gloomy. We did not talk much, all being wrapped in our own reflections.

" ' it's puzzling to me, Mrs Beevor/ I said at the end of dinner, ' how your husband engineered it.' " ' I don't see anything very wonderful in that/ she answered, quickly, with a catch in her voice, as if I had istartled her.

-• " ' No, Mrs Beevor?' I asked. ' And he an old man, feeble, half-witted? It isn't such an easy thing to work as you seem to think. How did he manage to avoid you? How had he the strength to carry it all out?' " ' You fancy, I suppose, Mr Smith/ said Williams, brusquely, ' that we have the time to be hangin' around in that old dodderer's tracks, seem' as he don't hurt himself. Well, we haven't. That's plain spoken and plain meant.' "' I quite see) that/ I answered ; ' but you don't stick to the point, Mr Williams. And there's another thing I don't understand. How did he come by those . discolourations on his arms? Quite fresh ones, too.'

" f You made them yourself probably in lifting him down/ said Williams. " ' No, because I put my arms under his. That is the natural way to lift a man. You only put your arms over his when you want to prevent his struggling. There wasn't much struggle in him when I came up.' ',' ' I suppose he knocked into something, poor awk'ard old thing!' said Mrs Beevor, with rather white lips. ; " ' You're trying to make a lot out of a simple enough business, Mr Smith,' sneered Williams. ' One would think you were a detective chap.' " ' Oh, I dabble a bit; not seriously, though, 1 I answered with truth, for my professional career was closed. ' And I am sure you ar e right. Simple enough case of attempted suicide. Give a man rope enough and he'll hang himself.' " ' That's well said/ agreed the bailiff with a grin. "'Only, Mrs Beevor and Mr Williams,' I went on, ' you must be careful to give him rope enough. If you do not, he can't hang himself. You would do well to remember this next time.' " ' What do you mean?' shouted Williams, starting up with a great oath. Mrs Beevor looked ac if she would faint. "• I mean sit down, you ruffian,' I said, quietly. 'It's not a bungler like you can frighten me, if any man can.' "'Who are you?' growled Williams through, his teeth, falling back into his chair. , . ■»» , t -j "' My name is Max, I said. " I have had some pretty compli- ! meats, and not undeserved ones, paid 1 me in my day, but I think the best of all was the way those two wretches squirmed before me. " ' All ! I see you have heard of me, I went on. ' Well, it is lucky for you,

my friends, that I am not down here in an official capacity, for I retired from the profession two months ago, and they can do their own dirty work now themselves. You see, you poor creatures, it was such a simple thing. Old Join. Beevor'e toes did not touch th© Btool which he was supposed to have used in the operation by two inches, so he could not possibly have hanged himself. It is no more complicated than that. " ' The game is so plain tEat it is not necessary to go into great details. Old Beevor dead, Mr. AVilliams marries the widow, and they live happy ever afterwards. A simple and touching proi gramme; but it must not be hurried on unduly or illegally.' " I rose to go. " ' I can assure you,' I said, ' that I take a very lively interest in all this happy family. It would be a pity if the declining years of old Mx Beevor were not made ac smooth as possible; and I shall give the district medical officer, who is an old acquaintance of mine, a hint to investigate very carefully the decease of Mr Beevor when it arrives. It would be a pity if, after to-day' 6 experience, he were not to die a comfortable, extremely natural death. " ' Then I hope you will carry out your idea of marrying, for I am sure that your married existence will be a complete atonement for your action of to-day. '"I wish you good afternoon.' "I heard no more of the Blackvalley people for some days. Then one afternoon, as I was fishing under a bit of a cliff a big stone came toppling down nearly on my head. I scuttled up the bank, and saw Robert Williams crossing a field in a far too greatly unconcerned air. I caught him up in a minute, and treated him to my throw No. 8. " ' It was only an accident,' he muttered. " ' Well, it's the kind of accident I don't approve of, Mr Williams,' 1 said. ' That's plain spoken and plain meant, to use your own words. The next time I might be inclined to give you a broken bone or two in with the throw, so don't you try it on again. And it will be as well for you to remember> Mr Williams, if you should be unfortunate enough to get me on the head, that there is a sealed envelope in my quarters on the mantelpiece, to be posted to Scotland Yard on the day of my death. I am no longer of the force, but I fancy Mt Max*s reconv mendations still have weight in high places. Once more, good afternoon. This time let it be final.'

" I never saw them again. I was still in the neighbourhood when, three months later, old Beevor died. My friend, the medical man to whom I had dropped a hint, came in to see me after the inquiry. " ' I don't know why yon wanted to Bend me on that particular wild-goose chase, Max,' he grumbled. ' I've foundered a mare, and lost half a day over it.' " ' And the old man?' I asked. "'A quite natural case of senile decay, if there ever was one. And everything as clean and nice as possible. You could see that the old. fellow had been well looked after. There were flowers all about, and ' "' I don't want to hear about the flowers,' I interrupted, ' nor about the widow's tears, or the bailiff's prayers. The old man used to drink. You didn't Bee any signs of that?' " ' No, not a vestige,' answered the doctor. ' You would have said that the old man did not know what alcohol spelt. The widow, now, she eems a good sort of woman, nicely spoken, clean, serious.' " ' Yes,' I answered, without enthusiasm. " ' I can't quite make that bailiff out,' chattered on my friend. ' But he't 1 evidently well in there, and I suppooe he 11 marry the widow.'

" ' I hope so,' I remarked. " ' You're a puzzle to me, Max,' said the doctor, shaking his head as he went off. ' Well, don't send mo on a fool's errand again.' "' I did not send you on a fool s errand,' I answered. "Mrs Beevor married Robert Williams, and, from what I am told, I believe they are both repenting of it now in the most satisfactory manner, fee wishes to drink her into the workhouse, and she refuses the situation. Things are very uncomfortable at Blackvalley Farm." " Thank you, Mr Max," I said, as I rose to go. " You have helped be out with what would otherwise have been a precious dull week. Upon my word, I could almost have wished for another wet afternoon or two of it."

" Well, as a matter of fact, the Thousand and One Nights are not in it with my experiences — not in it," asserted Mr Max, with great complacency. " I'd entertain that silly old Caliph for ten years on my head easy, if I knew his jabber. My I what a life I've had. of it! Dear, dear — dear, dear!" "Is there any chance of your returning to it again?" I asked. "Yes, there is," answered Max. " There's exactly as much chance of it as there is of the moon dropping into the German Ocean. When that happens> and when my chief crawls on his knees to ask me to do it, I might perhaps go back. That's how the thing stands, Captain Grensley. No, there is only one Mr Max. of Scotland Yard, and, unless I am much mistaken, they are beginning to realise that at headquarters. But it is too late. I'm a country gentleman now, and I like the position. It doesn't take much learning, I find." "I suppose, Mr Max," I said, with some hesitation, "I suppose that all you have told me is — is. — in fact — • >> " Is what?" he asked, coldly. " \ s — W ell — is, bo to speak, founded on fact?" " I had an idea what you'd be at, Captain Grensley," said Mr Max, with great dignity, " and I take it somewhat ill of you. No, it is not founded on fact, it is fact. If you find a little grain of exaggeration in what I- have told you, you may eat me dowji to the pickings. No, sir, I can do most things, but a lie iB too big a job for me. Captain Grensley, Mr Max of Scotland Yard never told a lie — he couldn't do it." [The End.]