Complete Short Story.

Waikato Independent, Volume XVI, Issue 1190, 3 August 1912, Page 3

Complete Short Story.

THE HAND OF STEEL.

I was sitting one evening in the doorway of Bow-street police-station, when a rough-looking man pushed passed me, and, approaching, the desk of tin inspector on duty, said : ‘Tie come to report myself.” I'What 1 'What name ?” "You’ll find it there,” he answered, sullenly, throwing a soiled and folded piece of paper through the opening in the railing. "What name ?” asked the inspector in a louder and sterner tonp. "What name !” cried the other. "What d’ye mean ? Can’t you read ? D’ye think I’m to he bullied like this here—me, as innocent as the unborn babe ? I tell you what it is, I ain’t going to stand it. I’m not a-goin’ to be badgered from pillar to post by a lot of^/lliicbottlGs—not me ! I ain’t that sort o’ stuff. Under the survilc-ancc ov the po-licc, am I ? 4f WeTI see. In a kipple o’ days I’ll bet there ain’t a ‘D.’ in the force as’ll tumble to who I am. Ain’t you satisfied ?” he continued, as he took jp the licence returned to him ; "because you can be, if you only come out for-, few minutes—don’t you see? What d’ye say ?” "I say that if you don’t go away at once I’ll lock you up, and by the time you reach the magistrate I wouldn’t give much for your ticket.” "Lock me up ! Lock me up ! That’s just what I want. I’d rather be locked up a hundred times than to be ‘chivied’ about as I have been since I’ve been in ‘chokey.’ Lock me up ! I only wish you would—that’s all !” "Sergeant ’Marston,” cried the inspector, "just take this man into custody.” "Before the sergeant could obey his superior officer's instructions, the ticket-of-lcavc man rushed out of the - passage, and my first impulse was to seize him. Tt was quite dark, but the bright light from the lamp over the doorway poured down, upon the face of the ruffian, and I recognised one of the greatest rascals the country was ever cursed with. - I was young then, and had not ’ quite conquered what arc called natural impulses. Before he could get away he heard me exclaim : "Hallo, Owly !” He turned round with an oath, which I won’t repeat, and then hurried away in the direction of the Strand. ' After a little consideration, I determined to follow him. He was at the corner of Wellington-strect. gazing into the door of the public-house there, with the air of a man who badly wanted a drink, and yet had not the means of procuring one. Keeping in the shadows of the Ly- 1 :eum Theatre columns, I watched aim until he turned away towards Sharing Cross. If you asked me to give you a reason why I followed , aim, I couldn't give you a satisfactory one. Something seemed to tell me that he was after some desperate game, and so I kept him in sight until he disappeared in one of the entrances of Spring Gardens. Just then the moon came out, and almost like the change in a diorama, came the shadows on one side of the short street, and the Jight on the other. Out of that dark shadow came the smothered cry of a man, and I rushed forward to he met by a blow from some strange weapon that nearly stunned me. In the act of losing sensibility, so to speak. I , endeavoured, as is my wont, to hit back, but the blow never reached. Falling away from my assailant, T tried to clutch him, hut only succeeded in securing something, which the ‘ascal tried to wrest from me unsuccessfully. Then the sound of voices came from the direction of Trafalgarsquare, and, with a surging' noise in my ears, I fell with a dull thud to the ground, i That was what the policeman told me who came rushing to my assistance. When I came back to consciousness-, the officer was under the lamp attached to the corner of the •next house examining something very carefully. I got on ray feet, and approached him noiselessly. "What have you got there ?" I asked. "What have you got, I should say, if I wanted to know ?” was his reply. "It dropped out of your hand when jou fell.” • ,“It” was a strange-looking article, aniTym mistake. I took it out of the constable's hand and gazed at it with peculiar interest. It was a steel gauntlet \of the most curious workmanship, with very fine plates for the inner part of the hand. I was about to pay more attention to the article 0 when z moan quite near us startled the constable and myself. Turning the angle of the buildihg, we found an oh* gentleman in the dark corner, lying on his back, his mouth open, aad his tongue apparently much rswoHen. Upon raising him he pointed to his throat, but failed to utter a word.

W« then noticed four distinct red narks on the neck, as if they.were

formed by the strong steel lingers of the gauntlet, and these marks had become blue before the old gentleman went to bed that night. He was a prominent citizen, and the assault caused a great deal of excitement next day, particularly in the newspapers. It was the time of garroting, ard almost every day distracting questions were asked in the public prints, chiefly to this effect ; “Where are the police?” “What arc the detectives doing ?” and mere than oneeditor hinted that I, particularly, was not worth my salt, since I failed to capture or trace the very man who had assaulted me When Mr. Thompson was attacked. I felt that I was hound in some way to find my late acquaintance, Owly, and my annoyance may he imagined when wc soon had proofs at the office that lie was going on with his terrible work. Dozens of cases of garroting were reported every week ; but in five serious cases the work was done by a steel gauntlet, and in some instances death had ensued. Oiir chief had concluded not to let the public know of the capture I had made, and this, I fancy, is the first time that an account of it has become public property.

# Four months passed away, and I had lost all hope of meeting Owly, when one day I was leaving the Mansion House and came right against him. I never saw such a transformation in a man ! His bullet-like head was topped by a cream-coloured hat of the newest fashion. He was cleanly shaved, and a stubby moustache ol brown-grey had been cultivated. His linen was fine, and contrasted strangely with his brickdust-coioured bull neck. A gaudy, scarlet necktie attracted attention to his vulgar taste

and a large gold ring with a carbuncle glittered on the small finger of one of his hairy paws. His coat was of the finest blue cloth, his waistcoat of the same'hue as his hat, and his- trousers shepherd-plaid and well cut. He wore drab gaiters over large, but well-made boots-, and altogether he looked in most people’s eyes no doubt a well-to-do City man. He uttered an oath a s I cannoned against him, and another when I had a look at his face. He recognised me I saw, in a moment, and turning round, he shouted, “Cab !” A hansom was handy, and he jumped in. His cry bad the effect of attracting more than one driver, so I leaped in the next one that came up, and told the driver to keep the first vehicle in view. ,

He soon knew r that he was being followed, and tried to run away from us. Then commenced an objectless ride on his part, if not on mine. He drove to the Angel, at Islington, and was just stepping out when ray cab came up. Changing his mind, he lashed the doors to, and shouted, "Holborn Bars.” I got out, but as soon as his cab disappeared, got in again, after instructing the driver to keep out of his sight as much as possible. At Warwick-court, Holborn he got out, paid his fare, and cnicavoured to escape by the Belfordrow end of it. I, however, followed him, and once more he hailed a cab. This time he had the advantage of me, for there was not another in sight. I followed him as well as I could,, nevertheless, back into Holborn, where I got another hansom, and after another long run to the Elephant and Castle, and down through the Borough back to the City, came up with him in Broadstreet, where he seemed to give up the chase. Getting out leisurely, he paid the driver and walked up to the entrance, of a business house. I followed his example and, rather to ray surprise, ‘he turned to meet me. I never was so amazed in my life as when he spoke.

‘‘lt seems to me,” he said, with a smile and in what some people would call a musical voice, “that you have been following me.” I was so nonplussed that the truth came out. I said I was and had been.

“Who do you take me to be ?” he asked.

“I take you to be—a very old acquaintance.” I proceeded ; but I was getting very uncertain about his identity. "I thought you were mistaken.” he went on. "But I am not offended—at least, not much offended and he Irew a card from an ivory card-case and handed it to me saying, "That is my name.”

He left me standing there gazing at the bit of glazed paper, upon which was printed : MR. JOHN HUNTER. W. S. Messrs. Hunter, Todd, ami Blair, London and Edinburgh.

"What a remarkable n-semblancc,” I said to myself ; and then the mom ary of the manner in which this Writer to the Signet took ~ut bis eard from its case carat* back upon me. This made me mentally add : "Strange that this Scotch solicitor should be left-handed, Ukr- Owiy Field.”

I walked away somewhat annoyed, I hadn’t gone far 1 resolved tc turn back and t;- c a note >! the people whose offices' wnre In that

house. I had nearly reached the door when our acquaintance came out with a tall, militarj-looking l man, whose moustache and hair were becoming grey.

"Look here, my dear Grafton,” Mr. Hunter was saying : but on sight of me he commenced, "Ah, here is the astute detective who followed m« here.”

Mr. Grafton put his eye-glass carefully in his eye, and favoured me with a stony stare ; then the worthy pail passed on without another word. If I was annoyed before, I was real angry now. As soon as they had gone out of sight I returned to the lobby'' of the bouse, and found undei the heading of “First Floor," painted on the wall, “Grafton and Co.. Financial Agents,” which I concluded was the polite way of describing "money-lenders,” Underneath this entablature of tenants was a card intimating that there was an office to let on the second floor. I wenl at once to the estate agent who had the letting of it, and giving my name as Theodore Leeson, became the ten-" ant for a month on paying a week down in advance.

Now, I have a way of disguising myself which does not transgress the rules of the service, although it is against their spirits. I had my name 'of "T. Leeson” painted in the vacant space on the wall, and a plate puf on the door, with the words "Commission Agent” added. This convenient calling permits a man to come in for his letters in the morning a nd be absent all day. Within a *eek I bad passed Mr. John Hunter several times on the stairs, and had the satisfaction of finding that my yellow dress-wig was a complete disguise. I Always carried a brown-paper parcel, like a town traveller, and acted the part, although I say it, pretty well. X made a report to my superior, which was so satisfactory that I was enabled to keep on the ; office in Broadstreet. I had written to Messrs. Hunter, Todd, and Blair, in Edinburgh: and received an answer that was nol quite satisfactory because the facf that "our Mr. Hunter was in London at present” did not quite dispel my doubts.

I made the acquaintance of Mr. Grafton’s Clerk soon after entering into possession at Broad-street. He was a poor fellow, and, strange tc say, was very fond of his employer, who didn’t seem a very amiable mac by any means to me. I soon found out the reason. He was desperately in love with his employer's daughter, who had acted as clerk there foi some time, and who was really a finelooking girl, as I saw from a portrait which the foolish fellow carried next to his heart, I do believe. I saw Mr. Grafton enter one day with Mr. John Hunter, and I was fairly startled to find the change upon the first-named man. He was much thinner than when I first saw him, and appeared greyer. Great dark circles appeared under hie eyes, and there was a wild, startled expression in them. Some time afterwards 1 was standing at my window, when I saw Wilson, the clerk, go across the road in the direction of the luncheon bar he used. I opened the door with a view of joining him, when I heard the door below opened, and these words rapidly and fiercely uttered ;

“I’ll never consent to that, no matter what you may do !” ‘‘And I’ll have nothing short o;

Flo’s hand, you may bet your boots on that !” The last speaker was Mr. Johr Hunter, but there wa.sn’t much mush in his voice then. In fact, I felt sc certain that it was Mr, Owly Field’s hard, rasping voice, that I was inclined -to rush down stairs at once and arrest him. The recollection ol the letter from Edinburgh stayed me.

A few days later I was sent down to Liverpool after a bank clerk, whe was said to have run away with over two thousand pounds he had collected. 1 was instructed to watch the landing-stage, n s it was supposed he would attempt to cross the Atlantic by one of the great steamships. 1 had been four days at this dry work, when I received a telegram’ from towrf. It ran thus ;

“Return to town by next train. Body of young man found in Thames.’' I did return, and upon visiting the mortuary, whore all that remained ol the hank clerk lay, was horrified to find the same marks which I had seen on poor Mr. Thompson’s neck and which had also been found on four or ivc victims of garroters, including one who died from the effect of the pressure of that hand of steel. It was the right-hand gauntlet that I had captured. The left-hand was still in the possession of the garroter, and the marks on all the latter victims were left-handed. Owly Field and Mr. John Hunter were both left-handed. It was about time to act. That night I gave instructions ■at home that any letter that might 'ome to me should he sent at once to Broad-street. I never dreamt what would come of that order.

Next morning I found Mr. Wilson .n a state of great excitement. He

nad been drinking hard. "Hallo, old fellow !” he cried. ■‘Come and have a liquor. We have had a windfall of money, and have taken a fine suite of offices in Mark'.sne. No more ‘Grafton and Go.’ It’s to be ‘Grafton, Hunter, and Co.* in future ; and ” he added, gloomily, “worse remains behind.” "What is worse ?” I asked.

"That coarse brute of a Hunter marries Flo on Wednesday morning, and I’ll make a bole in the water, I think.”

I tried to comfort my friend as well as I could, but I couldn’t get this marriage out of my head. On Tuesday night I followed Mr. Hunter up stairs, and on reaching my own door and opening it, I found a letter that had been sent from home to me. It was from Edinburgh, and contained this message : "Mr. Hunter returned last night from London, and will be glad to hear from you on the subject of your ;ast letter.

"Hunter, Todd, and Blair.”

If Mr. Hunter was in Edinburgh who was the gentleman down stairs ? I followed that gentleman home to Wandsworth that night. I watched his house next morning, until I saw him depart in great glee for town to be married. I took a constable with me and searched his rooms. In a small safe I found a steel gauntlet for the left hand, Tommy Field’s ticket-of-lcavc licence, and several bank notes, stolen, with a large quantity of gold, from the murdered hank clerk. It was upon this money that the friends proposed founding the new and greater business. Wilson had told me that the marriage was to be at Kensington parish church—the parish in which the girl’s father lived. I reached that in time, and never saw a paler or more melancholy bride in all my life. I arrested Owly in the porch for the murder of the bank clerk. He had thte bad taste to' struggle in the sacred building.

I had his gauntlet on my left hand, and with it I nearly crushed the life out of him. He was sent to penal servitude for life for manslaughter. Grafton was an old accomplice ol his, who was trying to live the socalled honest life of a money-lender, whose chief income came from inquiry fees that were never earned. I knew him in Wakefield—where I first met Owly Field—as Hawk Bgerton. I did not recognise him, however, and he disappeared during his friend’s trial. Owly got his consent to marry his daughter by means of threats of exposure. She soon became Mrs. Wilson, and, to her father’s credit, it should be said, he never let her know anything of his guilty antecedents.