“BROCKLEBANK’S ADVENTURE”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 7 August 1940, Page 10

“BROCKLEBANK’S ADVENTURE”

By

(Author of “The Man With the Squeaky Voice,” etc.)

R. A. J. WALLING

CHAPTER XL

(Continued). Lord Brownwood had tipped off the provisions on his fingers. "If,” said he, "the hypothetical event were some physical manifestation—” “Presume the arrival of a ship, said Tolefree. “Ah, how interesting! Well—presume the arrival of a ship. Then Time and Space would dissociate it from anything happeneng at Gravesend. But why Gravesend, Tolefree. Tell me that.” "Because there’s reason to suppose the promoters of the mischief are now at Gravesend.” Lord Brownwood raised his eyebrows. “Are they? Indeed! Now, I’ll put a question to you, Tolefree, which is not hypothetical. In your judgment, have they done or are they doing anything contrary to English law?” "A moot point. I'm not a lawyer. Kidnapping, yes—but that was an excessive word, because the kidnapping person or persons wouldn't admit that their misadventures concerned anyone but themselves. They would deny that they’d been kidnapped. I can only answer your question by another, which also is not hypothetical. Would | it be possible for them to smuggle a 1 cargo of arms out of England by way I of Gravesend?” I “Arms!” exclaimed Brocklebank. Lord Brownwood looked curiously at him before he answered. “Certainly not, Tolefree. Nor from any other port. No arms can be taken out of England except by licence, and all arms licensed for export are strictly watched from factory to ship.” "So I thought. But it is not a crime for English persons to be concerned in the export of arms from another country?” “Not a legal crime. As to its morality .” Lord Brownwood shrugged his shoulders. "In your hypothetical circumstances, I should say no arms could be exported from Gravesend. But Gravesend is wonderfully interesting. Dear me! What a jumping-off place! Or they might wish to be making a trip to the Eastern Mediterranean themselves in case of success —so as to be out of England when the inevitable consequences of their success arrived, and there again, what could be better than a trip starting from Gravesend. "Eureka —you’ve got it!" Tolefree cried. “What?” Lord Brownwood's voice carried a note of disapproval. “This is, of course, ,an argument in the air—purely hypothetical.” “Of course,” said Tolefree elaborately. "But if it were actual instead of hypothetical. and if I were Mr Brocklebank. do you know what I should do?” "I’d be glad to know," said Brocklebank. "I should assume, as we have hypothetically suggested that Ackerton is in the Secret Service. I should say to myself that this is a matter with which the Secret Service can deal more adequately than I can, and I should perhaps keep an eye on the whereabouts of the young lady if I could discover it. But I should refrain from disclosing myself unless she were in real danger. I should argue with myself that if the mischief-makers become alarmed before Thursday they may escape some of the consequences of their misdeeds. I should allow them io believe that their purses were safe: until Thursday. All that is not my business, of course, but that is what I should say to myself.” Lord Brownwood pushed back his chair. The other two rose. "Thank you,” said Tolefree. “I think the advice excellent. There's one other thing, Lord Brownwood. If you’re not interested in the financial punishment of these people, there is an aspect of their plans which does interest you.” "Very gravely indeed, Tolefree.” “And if you had the letter which was being brought home from the Eastern Mediterranean I expect it would be of some value to you.” "I think it might.” “Mr Brocklebank is of opinion, and I agree with him, that if the kidnapping of that young lady had not taken place, the letter would have been in your hands before now. Her uncle, who had sent her to get it. undoubtedly meant to use it for putting you in possession of accurate information about a plot he wished to explode witnout involving the plotters, who were his friends.” "I think that very likely. But why "Why haven't you received it? That’s the fatality," said Tolefree. "The young lady, having most ingeniously got hold of the letter, and realising that it was a dangerous document to carry about Europe, posted it to herself in this country. But she did not post it to her own address. I think I see the reason that she feared it might be stolen by the people who wanted to destroy it. But I have news of it —" "You. Tolefree!” Brocklebank ejaculated.” “Oh. sheer luck," Tolefree smiled. "If there's one place in the world where a letter is absolutely private and untouchable. it's the most public place in the world.' "Ah.” said Lord Brownwood. "1 believe Edgar Allan Roe worked that out in his tale of the Purloined Letter, didn't he? Where was it —stuck in the front of her hat?” “Nothing so subtle as that," said Tolefree. "1 reasoned out a—well, another hypothesis. The letter, we understood. was somewhere quite inaccessible to the mischief-makers, but accessible to her on the instant. .She's not been able to claim it, having been under duress ever since her arrival in England. And 1 can't get it, though I've tried. But you can get it. Lord Brownwood, uy exercising your authority. If you want it. you'll find it in a large envelope addressed, poste, reslante. to Miss P. Harrison-Clifford, al

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the Post Office, in King's Road, Chelsea.” "Well, I'm damned!” grunted Brocklebank. "That's clever, Tolefree," said Lord Brownwood, "Many thanks. ‘HarrisonClifford—well. well! How interested Ackerton would be to know that! But I’m due out now. Going to act on my conception of propriety in the next few days?” “Undoubtedly,” said Tolefree. CHAPTER XII. Brocklebank was in a maze from the moment when they stepped out into Grosvenor Square until the end of the invisible siege of Clay Cottage on Thursday night—the three days that dragged him through the muddle of fantastic events that had begun with a walk at Battery Park three weeks before. “Wily old fellow. Lord Brownwood, eh? He’s got their measure. Evidently known all about the scheme from the beginning. Told Ackerton to get busy. Why—they’ve never had a dog’s chance of bringing off their coup!” ' Brocklebank gave him a stare of doubt. "Never. All our friend HarrisonClifford's quixotic proceedings—so much wasted effort. He needn't have gone to New York. Miss Pamela might have stayed in Chelsea, and it would have been all the same. They’d never have got their cargo of guns ashore.” "Ah," said Brocklebank. "that's where I don't get you, Tolefree. Cocksure, aren't you? Lot of assumption about guns? Not a hint of a gun till now. And how could they hope to make a profit of a hundred thousand out of a cargo of guns?” "They don’t. But here we are —Felton’s. Let's go and get ready for the great expedition." In Brocklebank’s room, Tolefree puffed a pipe while under instructions a suit-case was filled with necessaries. “No, my dear fellow,” said he as Brocklebank moved about, “you’re perfectly right. They couldn't make the pile they’re after out of any such simple transaction as a sale of hardware. There's a lot more to it than that. You probably haven't been looking at the City news the last two mornings? I always do —force of habit. I notice that the shares of the Stara International and associated concerns have been exceedingly jumpy. Large numbers of shares have changed hands on the news that the danger of the threatened civil disturbance is apparently receding, and that the Government has the situation well in hand — you know that litany, of course? If I'm not a congenital lunatic, Brocklebank, a great bear coup was to be brought off, in which the eminent Sir Henry Worth and his engaging offspring were to make a large packet by selling Stapas during the little artificial boom, and buying at the bottom of the inevitable slump when it became know the Korlovitch party had contrived to get arms and ammunition into the country, and were on the point of upsetting the Government. And the event was fixed for Thursday.” "Gosh!” Brocklebank stood with a pair of socks suspended in mid-air. "You mean to say that all this fuss — Harrison going to America, Pamela to the Mediterranean, and doping and kidnapping, and knocking out —that it’s all about some dirty deal on the Stock Exchange—-?” Brocklebank was a lugubrious picture of disgust.

“I mean that if there hadn’t been a Stock Exchange and shares of Stara to gamble in, the eminent Sir Henry Worth wouldn't be in it. Not so certain about his son. He and HarrisonClifford are both interested in the country—probably know it and all its politicians through and through. But Harrison-Clifford has decent instincts and won't stand for a scheme which might set off the powder in a dangerous part of Europe ” “Not for all the profits ever made on the Stock Exchange!” said Brocklebank perfervidly. “You should have heard him call down his friend Henry that night—l see it now, Tolefree, the meaning of his talk about war. And he was damned serious.” “Well, that’s the situation. Lord Brownwood sized it up perfectly. I'd bet a dollar that letter he’ll be able to get from Chelsea will give him the details of the deal and perhaps some maritime and geographical information —I suspect that's what he chiefly lacks ” “Such as " “Where to look for a ship and what ship to look for.” "But, the letter —Tolefree! It's almost a miracle. How did you get the idea —and Chelsea? You didn’t even know Pamela lived in Chelsea.”

"Not till this morning. Then I had tlie same sort of hunch as you—got the Nottingham Gardens numbers from the telephone people, took a chance on Miss K. Emmerson and rang her up.” “Well—l'll oe hanged. That was what queered my pitch. She talked of someone who'd telephoned about a letter."

“Sorry—but no harm done, Brocklebank. I thought the poste resanle trick was just the sort of thing she might do. So. while you were at Nottingham Gardens I was at the King's Road post office. 1 could have got that letter by telling a few lies —but having satisfied myself she'd sent there I thought Lord Brownwood had oetter do the rest. Now, sit down and light a pipe and let's plan our campaign." (To be Continued).