Home > Authors Index > Frank R Stockton > Late Mrs. Null > This page
The Late Mrs. Null, a fiction by Frank R Stockton |
||
Chapter 17 |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XVII As Lawrence Croft walked down Pine Top Hill his mind was in a good deal of a hubbub. The mind of almost any lover would be stirred up if he came fresh from an interview, in which his lady had pinned him, to use a cruel figure, in various places on the wall to see how he would spin and buzz in different lights. But the disdainful pin had not yet gone through a vital part of Lawrence's hopes, and they had strength to spin and buzz a good deal yet. As soon as he should have an opportunity he would rack his brains to find out what it was that had put Roberta March into such a strange humor. No one who simply desired to decline the addresses of a gentleman would treat her lover as Miss March had treated him. It was quite evident that she wished to punish him. But what had been his crime? But the immediate business on his hands was to go and see what man it was who wished to see him. Ordinarily the fact that a man had called upon him would not be considered by Lawrence a matter for cogitation, but as he walked toward the house it seemed to him very odd that any one should call upon him in such an out-of-the-way place as this, where so few people knew him to be. He was not a business man, but a large portion of his funds were invested in a business concern, and it might be that something had gone wrong, and that a message had been sent him. His address at the Green Sulphur Springs was known, and the man in charge there knew that he was visiting Mrs Keswick. These considerations made him a little anxious, and helped to keep his mind in the hubbub which has been mentioned. When he reached the front of the house, Lawrence saw a lean, gray horse tied to a tree, and a man sitting upon the porch; and as soon as he made his appearance the latter came down the steps to meet him. "I didn't go into the house, sir," he said, "because I thought you'd just as lief have a talk outside." "What is your business?" asked Croft. The man moved a few steps farther from the house, and Lawrence followed him. "Is it anything secret you have to tell me?" he asked. "Well, yes, sir, I should think it was," replied the other, a tall man, with sandy hair and beard, and dressed in a checkered business suit, which had lost a good deal of the freshness of its early youth. "I may as well tell you at once who I am. I am an anti-detective. Never heard of that sort of person, I suppose?" "Never," said Lawrence, curtly. "Well, sir, the organization which I belong to is one which is filling a long felt want. You know very well, sir, that this country is full of detective officers, not only those who belong to a regular police force, but lots of private ones, who, if anybody will pay them for it, will go to Jericho to hunt a man up. Now, sir, our object is to protect society against these people. When we get information that a man is going to be hounded down by any of these detectives--and we have private ways of knowing these things--we just go to that man, and if he is willing to become one of our clients, we take him into our charge; and our business, after that, is to keep him informed of just what is being done against him. He can stay at home in comfort with his wife, settle up his accounts, and do what he likes, and the day before he is to be swooped down on, he gets notice from us, and comfortably goes to Chicago, or Jacksonville, where he can take his ease until we post him of the next move of the enemy. If he wants to take extra precautions, and writes a letter to anybody in the place where he lives, dated from London or Hong Kong, and sends that letter under cover to us, we'll see that it is mailed from the place it is dated from, and that it gets into the hands of the detectives. There have been cases where a gentleman has had six months or a year of perfect comfort, by the detectives being thrown off by a letter like this. That is only one of the ways in which we help and protect persons in difficulties who, if it wasn't for us, would be dragged off, hand-cuffed, from the bosom of their families; and who, even if they never got convicted, would have to pay a lot of money to get out of the scrape. Now, I have put myself a good deal out of the way, sir, to come to you, and offer you our assistance." "Me!" exclaimed Croft. "What are you talking about?" The man smiled. "Of course, it's all right to know nothing about it, and it's just what we would advise; but I assure you we are thoroughly posted in your affair, and to let you know that we are, I'll just mention that the case is that of Croft after Keswick, through Candy." "Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Lawrence, getting red in the face. "There is no such case!" He was about to say more, when a few words from the anti-detective stopped him suddenly. "Look here, Mr Keswick," said the man, leveling a long fore-finger at him, and speaking very earnestly, "don't you go and flatter yourself that this thing has been dropped, because you haven't heard of it for a month or two; and if you'll take my advice, you'll make up your mind on the spot, either to let things go on and be nabbed, or to put yourself under our protection, and live in entire safety until this thing has blown over, without any trouble, except a little travelling." At the mention of Keswick's name, Lawrence had seen through the whole affair at a single mental glance. The man was after Junius Keswick, and his business was to Lawrence more startling and repugnant than it could possibly be to any one else. It was necessary to be very careful. If he immediately avowed who he was, the man might yet find Keswick, before warning and explanation could be got to him, and not only put that gentleman in a very unpleasant state of mind, but do a lot of mischief besides. He did not believe that Mr Candy had recommenced his investigations without consultation with him, but this person evidently knew that such an investigation had been set on foot, and that would be sufficient for his purposes. Lawrence decided to be very wary, and he said to the man, "Did you ask for me here by name?" "No, _sir_," said the other, "I had information that you were here, and that you were the only gentleman who lived here and although you are in your own home, I did not know but this was one of those cases in which names were dropped and servants changed, to suit an emergency. I asked the little darkey I saw at the front of the house if she lived here, and she told me she had only just come. That put me on my guard, and so I merely asked if the gentleman was in, and she went and got you. We're very careful about calling names, and you needn't be afraid that any of our people will ever give you away on that line." Lawrence reflected for a moment, and then he said: "What are your terms and arrangements for carrying on an affair of this kind?" "They are very simple and moderate," said the man, taking a wallet from his pocket. "There is one of our printed slips, which we show but don't give away. To become a client all you have to do is to send fifteen dollars to the office, or to pay it to me, if you think no time should be lost. That will entitle you to protection for a year. After that we make the nominal charge of five dollars for each letter sent you, giving you information of what is going on against you. For extra services, such as mailing letters from distant points, of course there will be extra charges." Lawrence glanced over the printed slip, which contained information very similar to that the man had given him, and as he did so, he came to the conclusion that there would be nothing dishonest in allowing the fellow to continue in his mistake, and to endeavor to find out what mischief was about to be done in his, Lawrence's, name, and under his apparent authority. "I will become a subscriber," said he, taking out his pocket-book, "and request that you give me all the information you possess, here and immediately." "That is the best thing to do," said the man, taking the money, "for, in my opinion, no time is to be lost. I'll give you a receipt for this." "Don't trouble yourself about that," said Lawrence; "let me have your information." "You're very right," said the man. "It's a great deal better not to have your name on anything. And now for the points. Candy, who has charge of Croft's job, is going more into the detective business than he used to be, and we have information that he has lately taken up your affair in good, solid earnest. He found out that Croft had put somebody else on your track, without regularly taking the business out of his hands, and this made him mad; and I don't wonder at it, for Croft, as I understand, has plenty of money, and if he concluded to throw Candy over, he ought to have done it fair and square, and paid him something handsome in consideration for having taken the job away. But he didn't do anything of the kind, and Candy considers himself still in his employment, and vows he's going to get hold of you before the other party does; so, you see, you have got two sets of detectives after you, and they'll be mighty sharp, for the first one that gets you will make the money." "Where are Candy's detectives now?" asked Lawrence. "That I can't tell you positively, as I am so far from our New York office, to which all information comes. But now that you are a subscriber, I'll communicate with head-quarters and the necessary points will be immediately sent to you by telegraph, if necessary. All that you have to do is to stay here until you hear from us." "From the way you spoke just now," said Lawrence, "I supposed the detective would be here to-day or to-morrow." "Oh no," said the other, "Candy has not the facilities for finding people that we have. But it takes some time for me to communicate with head-quarters and for you to hear from there; and so, as I said before, there isn't an hour to be lost. But you're all right now." "I expected you to give me more definite information than this," said Lawrence, "but now, I suppose, I must wait until I hear from New York, at five dollars a message." "My business is to enlist subscribers," said the other. "You couldn't expect me to tell you anything definite when I am in an out-of-the-way place like this." "Did you come down to Virginia on purpose to find me?" asked Lawrence. "No," said the man, "I am on my way to Mobile, and I only lose one train by stopping here to attend to your business." "How did you know I was here?" "Ah," said the anti-detective, with a smile, "as I told you, we have facilities. I knew you were at this house, and I came here, straight as a die." "It is truly wonderful," said Lawrence, "how accurate your information is. And now I will tell you something you can have, gratis. You have made one of the most stupid blunders that I ever heard of. Mr Keswick went away from here, nearly a week ago, and I am the Mr Croft whom you supposed to be in pursuit of him." The man started, and gave vent to an unpleasant ejaculation. "To prove it," said Lawrence, "there is my card, and," putting his hand into his pocket, "here are several letters addressed to me. And I want to let you know that I am not in pursuit of Mr Keswick; that he and I are very good friends; and that I have frequently seen him of late; and so you can just drop this business at once. And as for Candy, he has no right to take a single step for which I have not authorized him. I merely employed him to get Mr Keswick's address, which I wished for a very friendly motive. I shall write to Candy at once." The man's face was not an agreeable study. He looked angry; he looked baffled; and yet he looked incredulous. "Now, come," said he, "if you are not Keswick, what did you pay me that money for?" "I paid it to you," said Lawrence, "because I wanted to find out what dirty business you were doing in my name. I have had the worth of my money, and you can now go." The man did not go, but stood gazing at Lawrence in a very peculiar way. "If Mr Keswick isn't here," he said, "I believe you are here waiting for him, and I am going to stay and warn him. People don't set private detectives on other men's tracks just for friendly motives." Lawrence's face flushed and he made a step forward, but suddenly checking himself, he looked at the man for a moment and then said: "I suppose you want me to understand that if I become one of your subscribers in my own name, you will be willing to withhold the information you intended to give Mr Keswick." "Well," said the man, relapsing into his former confidential tones, "business is business. If I could see Mr Keswick, I don't know whether he would employ me or not. I have no reason to work for one person more than another, and, of course, if one man comes to me and another doesn't, I'm bound to work for the man who comes. That's business!" "You have said quite enough," said Lawrence. "Now leave this place instantly!" "No, I won't!" said the man, shutting his mouth very tightly, as he drew himself up and folded his arms on his chest. Lawrence was young, well-made, and strong, but the other man was taller, heavier, and perhaps stronger. To engage in a personal contest to compel a fellow like this to depart, would be a very unpleasant thing for Lawrence to do, even if he succeeded. He was a visitor here, the ladies would probably be witnesses of the conflict, and although the natural impulse of his heart, predominant over everything else at that moment, prompted him to spring upon the impudent fellow and endeavor to thrash him, still his instincts as a gentleman forbade him to enter into such a contest, which would probably have no good effect, no matter how it resulted. Never before did he feel the weakness of the moral power of a just cause when opposed to brutal obstinacy. Still he did not retreat from his position. "Did you hear what I said?" he cried. "Leave this place!" "You are not master here," said the other, still preserving his defiant attitude, "and you have no right to order me away. I am not going." Despite his inferiority in size, despite his gentlemanly instincts, and despite his prudent desire not to make an exhibition of himself before Miss March and the household, it is probable that Lawrence's anger would have assumed some form of physical manifestation, had not Mrs Keswick appeared suddenly on the porch. It was quite evident to her, from the aspect of the two men, that something was wrong, and she called out: "Who's that?" "That, madam," said Lawrence, stepping a little back, "is a very impertinent man who has no business here, and whom I've ordered off the place, and, as he has refused to go, I propose--" "Stop!" cried the old lady. And turning, she rushed into the house. Before either of the men could recover from their surprise at her sudden action, she reappeared upon the porch, carrying a double-barreled gun. Taking her position on the top of the flight of steps, with a quick movement of her thumb she cocked both barrels. Then, drawing herself up and resting firmly on her right leg, with the left advanced, she raised the gun; her right elbow well against her side, and with her extended left arm as steady as one of the beams of the roof above her. She hooked her forefinger around one of the triggers, her eagle eye glanced along the barrels straight at the head of the anti-detective, and, in a clarion voice she sang out "Go!" The man stared at her. He saw the open muzzles of the gun barrels; beyond them, he saw the bright tops of the two percussion caps; and still beyond them, he saw the bright and determined eye that was taking sight along the barrels. All this he took in at a glance, and, without word or comment, he made a quick dodge of his head, jumped to one side, made a dash for his horse, and, untying the bridle with a jerk, he mounted and galloped out of the open gate, turning as he did so to find himself still covered by the muzzles of that gun. When he had nearly reached the outer gate and felt himself out of range, he turned in his saddle, and looking back at Lawrence, who was still standing where he had left him, he violently shook his fist in the air. "Which means," said Lawrence to himself, "that he intends to make trouble with Keswick." "That settled him," said the old lady, with a grim smile, as she lowered the muzzle of the gun, and gently let down the hammers. "Madam," said Lawrence, advancing toward her, "may I ask if that gun is loaded?" "I should say so," replied the old lady. "In each barrel are two thimblefuls of powder, and half-a-box of Windfall's Teaberry Tonic Pills, each one of them as big and as hard as a buckshot. They were brought here by a travelling agent, who sold some of them to my people; and I tell you, sir, that those pills made them so sick that one man wasn't able to work for two days, and another for three. I vowed if that agent ever came back, I'd shoot his abominable pills into him, and I've kept the gun loaded for the purpose. Was this a pill man? I scarcely think he was a fertilizer, because it is rather late in the season for those bandits." "He is a man," said Lawrence, coming up the steps, "who belongs to a class much worse than those you have mentioned. He is what is called a blackmailer." "Is that so?" cried the old lady, her eyes flashing as she brought the butt of the gun heavily upon the porch floor. "I'm very glad I did not know it; very glad, indeed; for I might have been tempted to give him what belonged to another, without waiting for him to disobey my order to go. I am very much troubled, sir, that this annoyance should have happened to you in my house. Pray do not allow it to interfere with the enjoyment of your visit here, which I hope may continue as long as you can make it convenient." The words and manner convinced Lawrence that that they did not merely indicate a conventional hospitality. The old lady meant what she said. She wanted him to stay. That morning he had become convinced that he had been invited there because Mrs Keswick wished him to marry Miss March; and she had done this, not out of any kind feeling toward him, because that would be impossible, considering the shortness of their acquaintance, but because she was opposed to her nephew's marriage with Miss March, and because he, Lawrence, was the only available person who could be brought forward to supplant him. "But whatever her motive is," thought Lawrence, "her invitation comes in admirably for me, and I hope I shall get the proper advantage from it." Shortly after this, Lawrence sat in the parlor, by himself, writing a letter. It was to Junius Keswick; and in it he related the facts of his search for him in New York, and the reason why he desired to make his acquaintance. He concealed nothing but the fact that Keswick's cousin had had anything to do with the affair. "If she wants him to know that," he thought, "she can tell him herself. It is not my business to make any revelations in that quarter." He concluded the letter by informing Mr Keswick of the visit of the anti-detective, and warning him against any attempts which that individual might make upon his pocket, assuring him that the man could tell him nothing in regard to the affair that he now did not know. After dinner, during which meal Miss March appeared in a very good humor, and talked rather more than she had yet done in the bosom of that family, Lawrence had his horse saddled, and rode to the railroad station, about six miles distant, where he posted his letter; and also sent a telegram to Mr Junius Keswick, warning him to pay no attention to any man who might call upon him on business connected with Croft and Keswick, and stating that an explanatory letter had been sent. The anti-detective had left on a train an hour before, but Lawrence felt certain that the telegram would reach Keswick before the man could possibly get to him, especially as the latter had probably not yet found out his intended victim's address. _ |
||