An exclamation burst from us all. If all those bags contained gold there was a fine fortune awaiting the successful candidate! The business was now begun in earnest. The lawyer rapidly extracted bag after bag, untied the string, and shot the contents with a crash into the great copper scale pan, while the attendant kept adding weights to the other side to balance it, calling out the amounts as he did so. No one spoke, but our eyes were fixed as if by some strange fascination on the pile of yellow metal that rose higher and higher each moment.
As the weight reached one hundred and fifty pounds, I heard the old servant behind me utter a smothered oath. I turned and glanced at him; he was staring at the gold with a fierce expression of disappointment and avarice. He at any rate was out of the reckoning, as at eleven stone six, or one hundred and sixty pounds, he could be nowhere near the weight of the sovereigns, there being still eight more bags to untie.
The competition, therefore, now lay between Wimburne and Graham. The latter’s face bore strong marks of the agitation which consumed him; the veins stood out like cords on his forehead, and his lips trembled. It would evidently be a near thing, and the suspense was almost intolerable. The lawyer continued to deliberately add to the pile. As the last bag was shot into the scale, the attendant put four ten-pound weights into the other side. It was too much. The gold rose at once. He took one off, and then the two great pans swayed slowly up and down, finally coming to a dead stop.
‘Exactly one hundred and eighty pounds, gentlemen,’ he cried, and a shout went up from us all. Wimburne at twelve stone eleven, or one hundred and seventy-nine pounds, had won.
I turned and shook him by the hand.
‘I congratulate you most heartily,’ I cried. ‘Now let us calculate the amount of your fortune.’
I took a piece of paper from my pocket and made a rough calculation. Taking 56 to the pound avoirdupois, there were at least ten thousand and eighty sovereigns in the scale before us.
‘I can hardly believe it,’ cried Miss Ransom.
I saw her gazing down at the gold, then she looked up into her lover’s face.
‘Is it true?’ she said, panting as she spoke.
‘Yes, it is true,’ he answered. Then he dropped his voice. ‘It removes all difficulties,’ I heard him whisper to her.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned aside to conceal her emotion.
‘There is no doubt whatever as to your ownership of this money, Mr Wimburne,’ said the lawyer, ‘and now the next thing is to ensure its safe transport to the bank.’
As soon as the amount of the gold had been made known, Graham, without bidding goodbye to anyone, abruptly left the room, and I assisted the rest of the men in shovelling the sovereigns into a stout canvas bag, which we then lifted and placed in a four-wheeled cab which had arrived for the purpose of conveying the gold to the city.
‘Surely someone is going to accompany Mr Wimburne?’ said Miss Cusack at this juncture. ‘My dear Edgar,’ she continued, ‘you are not going to be so mad as to go alone?’
To my surprise, Wimburne coloured, and then gave a laugh of annoyance.
‘What could possibly happen to me?’ he said. ‘Nobody knows that I am carrying practically my own weight in gold into the city.’
‘If Mr Wimburne wishes I will go with him,’ said Tyndall, now coming forward. The old man had to all appearance got over his disappointment, and spoke eagerly.
‘The thing is fair and square,’ he added. ‘I am sorry I did not win, but I’d rather you had it, sir, than Mr Graham. Yes, that I would, and I congratulate you, sir.’
‘Thank you, Tyndall,’ replied Wimburne, ‘and if you like to come with me I shall be very glad of your company.’
The bag of sovereigns being placed in the cab, Wimburne bade us all a hasty goodbye, told Miss Ransom that he would call to see her at Miss Cusack’s house that evening, and, accompanied by Tyndall, started off. As we watched the cab turn the corner I heard Miss Ransom utter a sigh.
‘I do hope it will be all right,’ she said, looking at me. ‘Don’t you think it is a risky thing to drive with so much gold through London?’
I laughed in order to reassure her.
‘Oh, no, it is perfectly safe,’ I answered, ‘safer perhaps than if the gold were conveyed in a more pretentious vehicle. There is nothing to announce the fact that it is bearing ten thousand and eighty sovereigns to the bank.’
A moment or two later I left the two ladies and returned to my interrupted duties. The affair of the weighing, the strange clause in the will, Miss Ransom’s eager pathetic face, Wimburne’s manifest anxiety, had all impressed me considerably, and I could scarcely get the affair off my mind. I hoped that the young couple would now be married quickly, and I could not help being heartily glad that Graham had lost, for I had by no means taken to his appearance.
My work occupied me during the greater part of the afternoon, and I did not get back again to my own house until about six o’clock. When I did so, I was told to my utter amazement that Miss Cusack had arrived and was waiting to see me with great impatience. I went at once into my consulting room, where I found her pacing restlessly up and down.
‘What is the matter?’ I asked.
‘Matter!’ she cried; ‘have you not heard? Why, it has been cried in the streets already – the money is gone, was stolen on the way to London. There was a regular highway robbery in the Richmond Road, in broad daylight too. The facts are simply these: Two men in a dogcart met the cab, shot the driver, and after a desperate struggle, in which Edgar Wimburne was badly hurt, seized the gold and drove off. The thing was planned, of course – planned to a moment.’
‘But what about Tyndall?’ I asked.
‘He was probably in the plot. All we know is that he has escaped and has not been heard of since.’
‘But what a daring thing!’ I cried. ‘They will be caught, of course; they cannot have gone far with the money.’
‘You do not understand their tricks, Dr Lonsdale; but I do,’ was her quick answer, ‘and I venture to guarantee that if we do not get that money back before the morning, Edgar Wimburne has seen the last of his fortune. Now, I mean to follow up this business, all night if necessary.’
I did not reply. Her dark, bright eyes were blazing with excitement, and she began to pace up and down.
‘You must come with me,’ she continued, ‘you promised to help me if the necessity should arise.’
‘And I will keep my word,’ I answered.
‘That is an immense relief.’ She gave a deep sigh as she spoke.
‘What about Miss Ransom?’ I asked.
‘Oh, I have left Letty at home. She is too excited to be of the slightest use.’
‘One other question,’ I interrupted, ‘and then I am completely at your service. You mentioned that Wimburne was hurt.’
‘Yes, but I believe not seriously. He has been taken to the hospital. He has already given evidence, but it amounts to very little. The robbery took place in a lonely part of the road, and just for the moment there was no one in sight.’
‘Well,’ I said, as she paused, ‘you have some scheme in your head, have you not?’
‘I have,’ she answered. ‘The fact is this: from the very first I feared some such catastrophe as has really taken place. I have known Mr Graham for a long time, and – distrusted him. He has passed for a man of position and means, but I believe him to be a mere adventurer. There is little doubt that all his future depended on his getting this fortune. I saw his face when the scales declared in Edgar Wimburne’s favour – but there! I must ask you to accompany me to Hammersmith immediately. On the way I will tell you more.’
‘We will go in my carriage,’ I said, ‘it happens to be at the door.’
We started directly. As we had left the more noisy streets Miss Cusack continued –
‘You remember the advertiseme
nt I showed you yesterday morning?’
I nodded.
‘You naturally could make no sense of it, but to me it was fraught with much meaning. This is by no means the first advertisement which has appeared under the name of Joshua Linklater. I have observed similar advertisements, and all, strange to say, in connection with founder’s work, appearing at intervals in the big dailies for the last four or five months, but my attention was never specially directed to them until a circumstance occurred of which I am about to tell you.’
‘What is that?’ I asked.
‘Three weeks ago a certain investigation took me to Hammersmith in order to trace a stolen necklace. It was necessary that I should go to a small pawnbroker’s shop – the man’s name was Higgins. In my queer work, Dr Lonsdale, I employ many disguises. That night, dressed quietly as a domestic servant on her evening out, I entered the pawnbroker’s. I wore a thick veil and a plainly trimmed hat. I entered one of the little boxes where one stands to pawn goods, and waited for the man to appear.
‘For the moment he was engaged, and looking through a small window in the door I saw to my astonishment that the pawnbroker was in earnest conversation with no less a person than Mr Campbell Graham. This was the last place I should have expected to see Mr Graham in, and I immediately used both my eyes and ears. I heard the pawnbroker address him as Linklater.
‘Immediately the memory of the advertisements under that name flashed through my brain. From the attitude of the two men there was little doubt that they were discussing a matter of the utmost importance, and as Mr Graham, alias Linklater, was leaving the shop, I distinctly overheard the following words: “In all probability Bovey will die tonight. I may or may not be successful, but in order to insure against loss we must be prepared. It is not safe for me to come here often – look out for the advertisement – it will be in the agony column.”
‘I naturally thought such words very strange, and when I heard of Mr Bovey’s death and read an account of the queer will, it seemed to me that I began to see daylight. It was also my business to look out for the advertisement, and when I saw it yesterday morning you may well imagine that my keenest suspicions were aroused. I immediately suspected foul play, but could do nothing except watch and await events. Directly I heard the details of the robbery I wired to the inspector at Hammersmith to have Higgins’s house watched. You remember that Mr Wimburne left Kew in the cab at ten o’clock; the robbery must therefore have taken place some time about ten-twenty. The news reached me shortly after eleven, and my wire was sent off about eleven-fifteen. I mention these hours, as much may turn upon them. Just before I came to you I received a wire from the police station containing startling news. This was sent off about five-thirty. Here, you had better read it.’
As she spoke she took a telegram from her pocket and handed it to me. I glanced over the words it contained.
‘Just heard that cart was seen at Higgins’s this morning. Man and assistant arrested on suspicion. House searched. No gold there. Please come down at once.’
‘So they have bolted with it?’ I said.
‘That we shall see,’ was her reply.
Shortly afterwards we arrived at the police station. The inspector was waiting for us, and took us at once into a private room.
‘I am glad you were able to come, Miss Cusack,’ he said, bowing with great respect to the handsome girl.
‘Pray tell me what you have done,’ she answered, ‘there is not a moment to spare.’
‘When I received your wire,’ he said, ‘I immediately placed a man on duty to watch Higgins’s shop, but evidently before I did this the cart must have arrived and gone – the news with regard to the cart being seen outside Higgins’s shop did not reach me till four-thirty. On receiving it I immediately arrested both Higgins and his assistant, and we searched the house from attic to cellar, but have found no gold whatever. There is little doubt that the pawnbroker received the gold, and has already removed it to another quarter.’
‘Did you find a furnace in the basement?’ suddenly asked Miss Cusack.
‘We did,’ he replied, in some astonishment; ‘but why do you ask?’
To my surprise Miss Cusack took out of her pocket the advertisement which she had shown me that morning and handed it to the inspector. The man read the queer words aloud in a slow and wondering voice:
Send more sand and charcoal dust. Core and mould ready for casting. – JOSHUA LINKLATER.
‘I can make nothing of it, miss,’ he said, glancing at Miss Cusack. ‘These words seem to me to have something to do with founder’s work.’
‘I believe they have,’ was her eager reply. ‘It is also highly probable that they have something to do with the furnace in the basement of Higgins’s shop.’
‘I do not know what you are talking about, miss, but you have something at the back of your head which does not appear.’
‘I have,’ she answered, ‘and in order to confirm certain suspicions I wish to search the house.’
‘But the place has just been searched by us,’ was the man’s almost testy answer. ‘It is impossible that a mass of gold should be there and be overlooked; every square inch of space has been accounted for.’
‘Who is in the house now?’
‘No one; the place is locked up, and one of our men is on duty.’
‘What size is the furnace?’
‘Unusually large,’ was the inspector’s answer.
Miss Cusack gave a smile which almost immediately vanished.
‘We are wasting time,’ she said; ‘let us go there immediately.’
‘I must do so, of course, if nothing else will satisfy you, miss; but I assure you –’
‘Oh, don’t let us waste any more time in arguing,’ said Miss Cusack, her impatience now getting the better of her. ‘I have a reason for what I do, and must visit the pawnbroker’s immediately.’
The man hesitated no longer, but took a bunch of keys down from the wall. A blaze of light from a public house guided us to the pawnbroker’s, which bore the well-known sign, the three golden balls. These were just visible through the fog above us. The inspector nodded to the man on duty, and unlocking the door we entered a narrow passage into which the swing doors of several smaller compartments opened. The inspector struck a match, and, lighting the lantern, looked at Miss Cusack, as much as to say, ‘What do you propose to do now?’
‘Take me to the room where the furnace is,’ said the lady.
‘Come this way,’ he replied.
We turned at once in the direction of the stairs which led to the basement, and entered a room on the right. At the further end was an open range which had evidently been enlarged in order to allow the consumption of a great quantity of fuel, and upon it now stood an iron vessel, shaped as a chemist’s crucible. Considerable heat still radiated from it. Miss Cusack peered inside, then she slowly commenced raking out the ashes with an iron rod, examining them closely and turning them over and over. Two or three white fragments she examined with peculiar care.
‘One thing at least is abundantly clear,’ she said at last; ‘gold has been melted here, and within a very short time; whether it was the sovereigns or not we have yet to discover.’
‘But surely, Miss Cusack,’ said the inspector, ‘no one would be rash enough to destroy sovereigns.’
‘I am thinking of Joshua Linklater’s advertisement,’ she said.
‘“Send more sand and charcoal dust.” This,’ she continued, once more examining the white fragments, ‘is undoubtedly sand.’
She said nothing further, but went back to the ground floor and now commenced a systematic search on her own account.
At last, we reached the top floor, where the pawnbroker and his assistant had evidently slept. Here Miss Cusack walked at once to the window and flung it open. She gazed out for a minute, and then turned to face us. Her eyes looked bright
er than ever, and a certain smile played about her face.
‘Well, miss,’ said the police inspector, ‘we have now searched the whole house, and I hope you are satisfied.’
‘I am,’ she replied.
‘The gold is not here, miss.’
‘We will see,’ she said. As she spoke she turned once more and bent slightly out, as if to look down through the murky air at the street below.
The inspector gave an impatient exclamation.
‘If you have quite finished, miss, we must return to the station,’ he said. ‘I am expecting some men from Scotland Yard to go into this affair.’
‘I do not think they will have much to do,’ she answered, ‘except, indeed, to arrest the criminal.’ As she spoke she leant a little further out of the window, and then withdrawing her head said quietly, ‘Yes, we may as well go back now; I have quite finished. Things are exactly as I expected to find them; we can take the gold away with us.’
Both the inspector and I stared at her in utter amazement.
‘What do you mean, Miss Cusack?’ I cried.
‘What I say,’ she answered, and now she gave a light laugh; ‘the gold is here, close to us; we have only to take it away. Come,’ she added, ‘look out, both of you. Why, you are both gazing at it.’
I glanced round in utter astonishment. My expression of face was reproduced in that of the inspector’s.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘what do you call that?’ As she spoke she pointed to the sign that hung outside – the sign of the three balls.
‘Lean out and feel that lower ball,’ she said to the inspector.
He stretched out his arm, and as his fingers touched it he started back.
‘Why, it is hot,’ he said; ‘what in the world does it mean?’
‘It means the lost gold,’ replied Miss Cusack; ‘it has been cast as that ball. I said that the advertisement would give me the necessary clue, and it has done so. Yes, the lost fortune is hanging outside the house. The gold was melted in the crucible downstairs, and cast as this ball between twelve o’clock and four-thirty today. Remember it was after four-thirty that you arrested the pawnbroker and his assistant.’
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