Bones in London

Staines shook his head.

"I know he doesn't," he said grimly. "In fact, he as good as told methat that business of buying a property back was a fake."

The thin man whistled.

"The devil he did! Then what made him buy it?"

"He's been there. He mentioned he had seen the property," saidStaines. And then, as an idea occurred to them all simultaneously, they looked at one another.

The stout Mr. Sole pulled a big watch from his pocket.

"There's a caretaker at Stivvins', isn't there?" he said. "Let's godown and see what has happened."

Stivvins' Wharf was difficult of approach by night. It lay off themain Woolwich Road, at the back of another block of factories, and toreach its dilapidated entrance gates involved an adventurous marchthrough a number of miniature shell craters. Night, however, wasmerciful in that it hid the desolation which is called Stivvins' fromthe fastidious eye of man. Mr. Sole, who was not aesthetic and by nomeans poetical, admitted that Stivvins' gave him the hump.

It was ten o'clock by the time they had reached the wharf, andhalf-past ten before their hammering on the gate aroused the attentionof the night-watchman – who was also the day-watchman – who occupied whathad been in former days the weigh-house, which he had converted into aweatherproof lodging.

"Hullo!" he said huskily. "I was asleep."

He recognized Mr. Sole, and led the way to his little bunk-house.

"Look here, Tester," said Sole, who had appointed the man, "did a youngswell come down here to-day?"

"He did," said Mr. Tester, "and a young lady. They gave Mr. Staines'sname, and asked to be showed round, and," he added, "I showed 'emround."

"Well, what happened?" asked Staines.

"Well," said the man, "I took 'em in the factory, in the big building, and then this young fellow asked to see the place where the metal waskept."

"What metal?" asked three voices at one and the same time.

"That's what I asked," said Mr. Tester, with satisfaction. "I told 'emStivvins dealt with all kinds of metal, so the gent says: 'What aboutgold?'"

"What about gold?" repeated Mr. Staines thoughtfully. "And what didyou say?"

"Well, as a matter of fact," explained Tester, "I happen to know thisplace, living in the neighbourhood, and I used to work here about eightyears ago, so I took 'em down to the vault."

"To the vault?" said Mr. Staines. "I didn't know there was a vault."

"It's under the main office. You must have seen the place," saidTester. "There's a big steel door with a key in it – at least, therewas a key in it, but this young fellow took it away with him."

Staines gripped his nearest companion in sin, and demanded huskily:

"Did they find anything in – in the vault?"

"Blessed if I know!" said the cheerful Tester, never dreaming that hewas falling very short of the faith which at that moment, and only atthat moment, had been reposed in him. "They just went in. I've neverbeen inside the place myself."

"And you stood outside, like a – a – "

"Blinking image!" said the explosive companion.

"You stood outside like a blinking image, and didn't attempt to go in, and see what they were looking at?" said Mr. Staines heatedly. "Howlong were they there?"

"About ten minutes."

"And then they came out?"

Tester nodded.

"Did they bring anything out with them?"

"Nothing," said Mr. Tester emphatically.

"Did this fellow – what's his name? – look surprised or upset?" persistedthe cross-examining Honest John.

"He was a bit upset, now you come to mention it, agitated like, yes,"said Tester, reviewing the circumstances in a new light. "His 'andwas, so to speak, shaking."

"Merciful Moses!" This pious ejaculation was from Mr. Staines. "Hetook away the key, you say. And what are you supposed to be here for?"asked Mr. Staines violently. "You allow this fellow to come and takeour property away. Where is the place?"

Tester led the way across the littered yard, explaining en route thathe was fed up, and why he was fed up, and what they could do to fillthe vacancy which would undoubtedly occur the next day, and where theycould go to, so far as he was concerned, and so, unlocking one rustylock after another, passed through dark and desolate offices, full ofsqueaks and scampers, down a short flight of stone steps to a mostuncompromising steel door at which they could only gaze.

III

Bones was at his office early the following rooming, but he was notearlier than Mr. Staines, who literally followed him into his officeand slammed down a slip of paper under his astonished and gloomy eye.

"Hey, hey, what's this?" said Bones irritably. "What the dooce isthis, my wicked old fiddle fellow?"

"Your cheque," said Mr. Staines firmly. "And I'll trouble you for thekey of our strong-room."

"The key of your strong-room?" repeated Bones. "Didn't I buy thisproperty?"

"You did and you didn't. To cut a long story short, Mr. Tibbetts, Ihave decided not to sell – in fact, I find that I have done an illegalthing in selling at all."

Bones shrugged his shoulders. Remember that he had slept, orhalf-slept, for some nine hours, and possibly his views had undergone achange. What he would have done is problematical, because at thatmoment the radiant Miss Whitland passed into her office, and Bones'sacute ear heard the snap of her door.

"One moment," he said gruffly, "one moment, old Honesty."

He strode through the door which separated the private from the publicportion of his suite, and Mr. Staines listened. He listened at varyingdistances from the door, and in his last position it would haverequired the most delicate of scientific instruments to measure thedistance between his ear and the keyhole. He heard nothing save thewail of a Bones distraught, and the firm "No's" of a self-possessedfemale.

Then, after a heart-breaking silence Bones strode out, and Mr. Stainesdid a rapid sprint, so that he might be found standing in an attitudeof indifference and thought near the desk. The lips of Bones weretight and compressed. He opened the drawer, pulled out the transfers, tossed them across to Mr. Staines.

"Key," said Bones, chucking it down after the document.

He picked up his cheque and tore it into twenty pieces.

"That's all," said Bones, and Mr. Staines beat a tremulous retreat.

When the man had gone, Bones returned to the girl who was sitting ather table before her typewriter. It was observable that her lips werecompressed too.

"Young Miss Whitland," said Bones, and his voice was hoarser than ever,"never, never in my life will I ever forgive myself!"

"Oh, please, Mr. Tibbetts," said the girl a little wearily, "haven't Itold you that I have forgiven you? And I am sure you had no horridthought in your mind, and that you just acted impulsively."

Bones bowed his head, at once a sign of agreement and a crushed spirit.

"The fact remains, dear old miss," he said brokenly, "that I did kissyou in that beastly old private vault. I don't know what made me doit," he gulped, "but I did it. Believe me, young miss, that spot wassacred. I wanted to buy the building to preserve it for all time, sothat no naughty old foot should tread upon that hallowed ground. Youthink that's nonsense!"

"Mr. Tibbetts."

"Nonsense, I say, romantic and all that sort of rot." Bones threw outhis arms. "I must agree with you. But, believe me, Stivvins' Wharf ishallowed ground, and I deeply regret that you would not let me buy itand turn it over to the jolly old Public Trustee or one of thosejohnnies… You do forgive me?"

She laughed up in his face, and then Bones laughed, and they laughed together.

CHAPTER IV

THE PLOVER LIGHT CAR

The door of the private office opened and after a moment closed. Itwas, in fact, the private door of the private office, reservedexclusively for the use of the Managing Director of Schemes Limited.Nevertheless, a certain person had been granted the privilege ofingress and egress through that sacred portal, and Mr. Tibbetts, ycleptBones, crouching over his desk, the ferocity of his countenanceintensified by the monocle which was screwed into his eye, and theterrific importance of his correspondence revealed by his disorderedhair and the red tongue that followed the movements of his pen, did notlook up.

"Put it down, put it down, young miss," he murmured, "on the table, onthe floor, anywhere."

There was no answer, and suddenly Bones paused and scowled at thehalf-written sheet before him.

"That doesn't look right." He shook his head. "I don't know what'scoming over me. Do you spell 'cynical' with one 'k' or two?"

Bones looked up.

He saw a brown-faced man, with laughing grey eyes, a tall man in a longovercoat, carrying a grey silk hat in his hand.

"Pardon me, my jolly old intruder," said Bones with dignity, "this is aprivate – " Then his jaw dropped and he leant on the desk forsupport. "Not my – Good heavens!" he squeaked, and then leaptacross the room, carrying with him the flex of his table lamp, whichfell crashing to the floor.

"Ham, you poisonous old reptile!" He seized the other's hand in hisbony paw, prancing up and down, muttering incoherently.

"Sit down, my jolly old Captain. Let me take your overcoat. Well!Well! Well! Give me your hat, dear old thing – dear old Captain, Imean. This is simply wonderful! This is one of the most amazin'experiences I've ever had, my dear old sportsman and officer. How longhave you been home? How did you leave the Territory? Good heavens!We must have a bottle on this!"

"Sit down, you noisy devil," said Hamilton, pushing his erstwhilesubordinate into a chair, and pulling up another to face him.

"So this is your boudoir!" He glanced round admiringly. "It looksrather like the waiting-room of a couturière."

"My dear old thing," said the shocked Bones, "I beg you, if you please, remember, remember – " He lowered his voice, and the last word was ina hoarse whisper, accompanied by many winks, nods, and pointings at andto a door which led from the inner office apparently to the outer."There's a person, dear old man of the world – a young person – wellbrought up – "

"What the – " began Hamilton.

"Don't be peeved!" Bones's knowledge of French was of the haziest."Remember, dear old thing," he said solemnly, wagging his inkyforefinger, "as an employer of labour, I must protect the young an'innocent, my jolly old skipper."

Hamilton looked round for a missile, and could find nothing better thana crystal paper-weight, which looked too valuable to risk.

"'Couturière,'" he said acidly, "is French for 'dressmaker.'"

"French," said Bones, "is a language which I have always carefullyavoided. I will say no more – you mean well, Ham."

Thereafter followed a volley of inquiries, punctuated at intervals bygenial ceremony, for Bones would rise from his chair, walk solemnlyround the desk, and as solemnly shake hands with his former superior.

"Now, Bones," said Hamilton at last, "will you tell me what you aredoing?"

Bones shrugged his shoulders.

"Business," he said briefly. "A deal now and again, dear old officer.

Make a thousand or so one week, lose a hundred or so the next."

"But what are you doing?" persisted Hamilton.

Again Bones shrugged, but with more emphasis.

"I suppose," he confessed, with a show of self-deprecation which hissmugness belied, "I suppose I am one of those jolly old spiders who sitin the centre of my web, or one of those perfectly dinky little tigerswho sit in my jolly old lair, waiting for victims.

"Of course, it's cruel sport" – he shrugged again, toying with his ivorypaper-knife – "but one must live. In the City one preys upon otherones."

"Do the other ones do any preying at all?" asked Hamilton.

Up went Bones's eyebrows.

"They try," he said tersely, and with compressed lips. "Last week afellow tried to sell me his gramophone, but I had a look at it. As Isuspected, it had no needle. A gramophone without a needle," saidBones, "as you probably know, my dear old musical one, is whollyuseless."

"But you can buy them at a bob a box," said Hamilton.

Bones's face fell.

"Can you really?" he demanded. "You are not pulling my leg, oranything? That's what the other fellow said. I do a little gambling,"Bones went on, "not on the Stock Exchange or on the race-course, youunderstand, but in Exchanges."

"Money Exchanges?"

Bones bowed his head.

"For example," he said, "to-day a pound is worth thirty-two francs,to-morrow it is worth thirty-four francs. To-day a pound is worth fourdollars seventy-seven – "

"As a matter of fact, it is three dollars ninety-seven," interrupted

Hamilton.

"Ninety-seven or seventy-seven," said Bones irritably, "what is fourshillings to men like you or me, Hamilton? We can well afford it."

"My dear chap," said Hamilton, pardonably annoyed, "there is adifference of four shillings between your estimate and the rate."

"What is four shillings to you or me?" asked Bones again, shaking hishead solemnly. "My dear old Ham, don't be mean."

There was a discreet tap on the door, and Bones rose with everyevidence of agitation.

"Don't stir, dear old thing," he pleaded in a husky whisper. "Pretendnot to notice, dear old Ham. Don't be nervous – wonderful younglady – "

Then, clearing his throat noisily, "Come in!" he roared in the tonethat a hungry lion might have applied to one of the early Christianmartyrs who was knocking by mistake on the door of his den.

In spite of all injunctions, Hamilton did look, and he did stare, andhe did take a great deal of notice, for the girl who came in was wellworth looking at. He judged her to be about the age of twenty-one."Pretty" would be too feeble a word to employ in describing her. Therusset-brown hair, dressed low over her forehead, emphasized theloveliness of eyes set wide apart and holding in their clear depths allthe magic and mystery of womanhood.

She was dressed neatly. He observed, too, that she had an open bookunder her arm and a pencil in her hand, and it dawned upon him slowlythat this radiant creature was – Bones's secretary!

Bones's secretary!

He stared at Bones, and that young man, very red in the face, avoidedhis eye.

Bones was standing by the desk, in the attitude of an after-dinnerspeaker who was stuck for the right word. In moments of extremeagitation Bones's voice became either a growl or a squeak – the bottomregister was now in exercise.

"Did – did you want me, young miss?" he demanded gruffly.

The girl at the door hesitated.

"I'm sorry – I didn't know you were engaged. I wanted to see you aboutthe Abyssinian – "

"Come in, come in, certainly," said Bones more gruffly than ever. "Anew complication, young miss?"

She laid a paper on the desk, taking no more notice of Hamilton than ifhe were an ornament on the chimney-piece.

"The first instalment of the purchase price is due to-day," she said.

"Is it?" said Bones, with his extravagant surprise. "Are you certain, young miss? This day of all days – and it's a Thursday, too," he addedunnecessarily.

The girl smiled and curled her lip, but only for a second.

"Well, well," said Bones, "it's a matter of serious importance. Thecheque, jolly old young miss, we will sign it and you will send it off.Make it out for the full amount – "

"For the three thousand pounds?" said the girl.

"For the three thousand pounds," repeated Bones soberly. He put in hismonocle and glared at her. "For the three thousand pounds," herepeated.

She stood waiting, and Bones stood waiting, he in some embarrassment asto the method by which the interview might be terminated and hissecretary dismissed without any wound to her feelings.

"Don't you think to-morrow would do for the cheque?" she asked.

"Certainly, certainly," said Bones. "Why not? To-morrow's Friday, ain't it?"

She inclined her head and walked out of the room, and Bones cleared histhroat once more.

"Bones – "

The young man turned to meet Hamilton's accusing eye.

"Bones," said Hamilton gently, "who is the lady?"

"Who is the lady?" repeated Bones, with a cough. "The lady is mysecretary, dear old inquisitor."

"So I gather," said Hamilton.

"She is my secretary," repeated Bones. "An extremely sensible youngwoman, extremely sensible."

"Don't be silly," said Hamilton. "Plenty of people are sensible. Whenyou talk about sensible young women, you mean plain young women."

"That's true," said Bones; "I never thought of that. What a naughtyold mind you have, Ham."

He seemed inclined to change the subject.

"And now, dear old son," said Bones, with a brisk return to hiswhat-can-I-do-for-you air, "to business! You've come, dear old thing,to consult me."

"You're surprisingly right," said Hamilton.

"Well," said Bones, trying three drawers of his desk before he couldfind one that opened, "have a cigar, and let us talk."

Hamilton took the proffered weed and eyed it suspiciously.

"Is this one that was given to you, or one that you bought?" hedemanded.

"That, my jolly old officer," said Bones, "is part of a job lot that Ibought pretty cheap. I've got a rare nose for a bargain – "

"Have you a rare nose for a cigar, that's the point?" asked Hamilton,as he cut off the end and lit it gingerly.

"Would I give you a bad cigar?" asked the indignant Bones. "A gallantold returned warrior, comrade of my youth, and all that sort of thing!My dear old Ham!"

"I'll tell you in a minute," said Hamilton, and took two draws.

Bones, who was no cigar smoker, watched the proceedings anxiously.

Hamilton put the cigar down very gently on the corner of the desk.

"Do you mind if I finish this when nobody's looking?" he asked.

"Isn't it all right?" asked Bones. "Gracious heavens! I paid fiftyshillings a hundred for those! Don't say I've been done."

"I don't see how you could be done at that price," said Hamilton, andbrushed the cigar gently into the fireplace. "Yes, I have come toconsult you, Bones," he went on. "Do you remember some eight monthsago I wrote to you telling you that I had been offered shares in amotor-car company?"

Bones had a dim recollection that something of the sort had occurred, and nodded gravely.

"It seemed a pretty good offer to me," said Hamilton reflectively."You remember I told you there was a managership attached to theholding of the shares?"

Bones shifted uneasily in his chair, sensing a reproach.

"My dear old fellow – " he began feebly.

"Wait a bit," said Hamilton. "I wrote to you and asked you youradvice. You wrote back, telling me to have nothing whatever to do withthe Plover Light Car Company."

"Did I?" said Bones. "Well, my impression was that I advised you toget into it as quickly as you possibly could. Have you my letter, dearold thing?"

"I haven't," said Hamilton.

"Ah," said Bones triumphantly, "there you are! You jolly old rascal, you are accusing me of putting you off – "

"Will you wait, you talkative devil?" said Hamilton. "I pointed out toyou that the prospects were very alluring. The Company was floatedwith a small capital – "

Again Bones interrupted, and this time by rising and walking solemnlyround the table to shake hands with him.

"Hamilton, dear old skipper," he pleaded. "I was a very busy man atthat time. I admit I made a mistake, and possibly diddled you out of afortune. But my intention was to write to you and tell you to get intoit, and how I ever came to tell you not to get into it – well, my poorold speculator, I haven't the slightest idea!"

"The Company – " began Hamilton.

"I know, I know," said Bones, shaking his head sadly and fixing hismonocle – a proceeding rendered all the more difficult by the fact thathis hand never quite overtook his face. "It was an error on my part, dear old thing. I know the Company well. Makes a huge profit! Youcan see the car all over the town. I think the jolly old Partridge – "

"Plover," said Hamilton.

"Plover, I mean. They've got another kind of car called thePartridge," explained Bones. "Why, it's one of the best in the market.I thought of buying one myself. And to think that I put you off thatCompany! Tut, tut! Anyway, dear old man," he said, brightening up,"most of the good fish is in the sea, and it only goes bad when itcomes out of the sea. Have you ever noticed that, my dear oldnaturalist?"

"Wait a moment. Will you be quiet?" said the weary Hamilton. "I'mtrying to tell you my experiences. I put the money – four thousandpounds – into this infernal Company.

"Eh?"

"I put the money into the Company, I tell you, against your advice.

The Company is more or less a swindle."

Bones sat down slowly in his chair and assumed his most solemn andbusiness-like face.

"Of course, it keeps within the law, but it's a swindle, none the less.They've got a wretched broken-down factory somewhere in the North, andthe only Plover car that's ever been built was made by a Scottishcontractor at a cost of about twice the amount which the Company peoplesaid that they would charge for it."

"What did I say?" said Bones quietly. "Poor old soul, I do not giveadvice without considering matters, especially to my dearest friend. Acompany like this is obviously a swindle. You can tell by theappearance of the cars – "

"There was only one car ever made," interrupted Hamilton.

"I should have said car," said the unperturbed Bones. "The veryappearance of it shows you that the thing is a swindle from beginningto end. Oh, why did you go against my advice, dear old Ham? Why didyou?"

"You humbug!" said the wrathful Hamilton. "You were just this minuteapologising for giving me advice."

"That," said Bones cheerfully, "was before I'd heard your story. Yes,Ham, you've been swindled." He thought a moment. "Four thousandpounds!"

And his jaw dropped.

Bones had been dealing in large sums of late, and had forgotten justthe significance of four thousand pounds to a young officer. He wastoo much of a little gentleman to put his thoughts into words, but itcame upon him like a flash that the money which Hamilton had investedin the Plover Light Car Company was every penny he possessed in theworld, a little legacy he had received just before Bones had left theCoast, plus all his savings for years.

"Ham," he said hollowly, "I am a jolly old rotter! Here I've beenbluffing and swanking to you when I ought to have been thinking out away of getting things right."

Hamilton laughed.

"I'm afraid you're not going to get things right, Bones," he said."The only thing I did think was that you might possibly know somethingabout this firm."

At any other moment Bones would have claimed an extensive acquaintancewith the firm and its working, but now he shook his head, and Hamiltonsighed.

"Sanders told me to come up and see you," he said. "Sanders has greatfaith in you, Bones."

Bones went very red, coughed, picked up his long-plumed pen and put itdown again.

"At any rate," said Hamilton, "you know enough about the City to tellme this – is there any chance of my getting this money back?"

Bones rose jerkily.

"Ham," he said, and Hamilton sensed a tremendous sincerity in hisvoice, "that money's going to come back to you, or the name of AugustusTibbetts goes down in the jolly old records as a failure."

A minute later Captain Hamilton found himself hand-shook from the room.Here for Bones was a great occasion. With both elbows on the desk, andtwo hands searching his hair, he sat worrying out what he afterwardsadmitted was the most difficult problem that ever confronted him.

After half an hour's hair-pulling he went slowly across his beautifulroom and knocked discreetly on the door of the outer office.

Miss Marguerite Whitland had long since grown weary of begging him todrop this practice. She found it a simple matter to say "Come in!" andBones entered, closing the door behind him, and stood in a deferentialattitude two paces from the closed door.

"Young miss," he said quietly, "may I consult you?"

"You may even consult me," she said as gravely.

"It is a very curious problem, dear old Marguerite," said Bones in alow, hushed tone. "It concerns the future of my very dearestfriend – the very dearest friend in all the world," he saidemphatically, "of the male sex," he added hastily. "Of course, friendships between jolly old officers are on a different plane, if youunderstand me, to friendships between – I mean to say, dear old thing,I'm not being personal or drawing comparisons, because the feeling Ihave for you – "