A Drake by George!

by John Trevena

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE GRABBERS

  The constable, an exceedingly able man who was expecting to become asergeant, gave it as his opinion that a thief had been at work. Insupport of this theory he pointed out certain prints of hob-nailedboots, which upon examination he discovered to be his own. Thereupon heincreased his reputation by a shake of the head, and the statement that,even in a small community, mysteries were bound to happen.

  Kezia began to mutter about Sidney Brock, who had eaten and drunk in herkitchen, and had endeavoured to entice Nellie into his harem; whileBessie had the effrontery to suggest she had seen two dark shadows,unquestionably substantial, disappearing along the lane in the directionof Black Anchor.

  "You can get to London by that road," replied the policeman. "Were theywalking or running?" he inquired.

  "When I last saw 'em they was running fit to break their necks," saidBessie.

  The constable twirled his moustache and smiled in a superior fashion;for he was about to make a point.

  "Running with a musical box pretty near the size of a piano, not tomention other articles of furniture," he said.

  "The box wur big, but not very heavy," explained Kezia. "It stood uponlegs, four of 'em, but a man could lift it off and carry it."

  "And the legs would follow after?" suggested the policeman, who believedin making people laugh; but he failed on this occasion.

  "They would have to walk back for the legs," Kezia explained.

  "How many men did you say there were?"

  "Two, but I wouldn't swear to nothing," replied the tactful Bessie.

  "If policeman wur to go along the lane he might catch up wi' them,"suggested Kezia.

  The officer declined, pointing out that it would be a physicalimpossibility for two men to carry such bulky articles all the way toBlack Anchor, and a moral impossibility to do so and escape detection.Then he sought for information concerning the ownership of the purloinedproperty.

  "'Tis mine," came the simultaneous answer.

  "That wants a lawyer," said the policeman, beginning to show the acumenwhich was winning him promotion; and when the position had beenexplained he continued, "Maybe Mrs. Drake left a like paper for MissYard?"

  "Two of 'em," said Kezia.

  "Leaving her everything?"

  "Just the house and a pair of silver candlesticks."

  "What ha' been stolen," added Bessie.

  "And a paper for Miss Blisland?" went on the policeman, longing for asuperior officer to hear him.

  "Her left she the round table in the parlour, but that be rightfullymine," replied Kezia.

  "Mine too," said Bessie.

  "Likely enough she left a bit of writing for Mr. Drake?"

  "He got a bit, but he wouldn't show it to no one," said Kezia.

  "Maybe the person who took the things has got about as much right tothem as certain other folks," said the constable darkly. "That's all Ican say at present, but I'll make inquiries in the morning," he added,as Robert came up to find out what had happened.

  Highfield was an honest place, where a farmer did not wait for a darknight to divert his neighbour's water supply, or postpone the cuttingdown of a hedge, which did not belong to him, to a misty day. Theinhabitants therefore were convulsed with horror when informed by Robertthat an act of real dishonesty had happened: to wit, a pair ofdesperate ruffians had broken into Windward House and departed withmuch furniture. It became at once obvious to everybody, except thepoliceman, that the district had been systematically plundered.Squinting Jack declared, now he came to think of it, eggs had beenmissing from his hen roost for weeks past; the Wallower in Wealth sworethat a sum not exceeding twenty-five shillings had been extracted fromhis mattress; while the Dumpy Philosopher discovered a number ofvacancies among the red cabbages in his back garden.

  This being a matter of morality, the vicar was made the victim of adeputation, headed by the Dismal Gibcat, an inevitable but unfortunateselection, as this gentleman had not said his prayers in public for someyears, because, according to his own statement, a violent fit of nasalcatarrh seized upon him immediately he entered the church. The DismalGibcat, encouraged by the silent but moral support of severalNonconformists, who were generally credited with loving their neighboursrather more earnestly than themselves, framed an indictment against theBrocks: they were aliens who had sprung up at Black Anchor with thesuddenness of toadstools; no respectable female presides in theirkitchen; they were visited frequently by women of a certain class; theyhad already corrupted the young people of the neighbourhood; and werenow breaking into houses and removing every article of value.Assassination of prominent personages would follow in due course.

  "You are entirely mistaken," replied the vicar, somewhat stiffly. "Itmust be well known to the parish that I often visit the Brocks."

  "They do say you'm friendly wi' every one," observed the Dismal Gibcatbitterly, as he was obviously an exception.

  "I hope so. At all events I like the Brocks--indeed, I respect them."

  "How about they women and gals?" cried the Dismal Gibcat.

  "Probably their presence can be explained. As for this robbery, it isridiculous to suspect the Brocks. I may as well mention that I knewsomething about them before they came here," said the vicar.

  "They ses you turned Sidney out of the choir because he teased themaidens."

  "That is quite untrue. He resigned and explained his reason for doingso."

  "Well, if they'm friends of yours, 'tis no use us talking; but I believethey took them things as much as if I'd seen 'em doing it. Ain't thatthe general opinion?" demanded the Dismal Gibcat of his limp supporters.

  "I takes volks as I finds 'em," replied the Dumpy Philosopher.

  "I wouldn't like to say parson goes shares wi' the Brocks ineverything--in every single thing," observed the Dismal Gibcat, as thedeputation retired, "but I shouldn't be surprised if a lot o' volkdidn't think so."

  During this excitement Percy and his young lady arrived, two days beforethey were expected, and flustered Kezia so that she could think of therobbery only at intervals. Bessie made no mention of it: neither didRobert, though he went to the village shop, purchased a pound ofcandles, and tried unsuccessfully to buy a bottle of lubricating oil. Asit was impossible in Highfield to enter into secret negotiations for thepurchase of even a penny tin of mustard, the policeman, in the course ofhis inquiries, heard about it and, having worked out the problem withoutthe aid of pencil and notebook, he proceeded to the bakery and toldRobert he ought to be ashamed of himself.

  "For why?" asked the assistant baker, with the assurance of a man whohad nine points of the law in his favour.

  "What did you buy this morning at Mrs. Trivell's shop?"

  "Bottle o' blacking," replied Robert.

  "Sure it wasn't whitewash? What else did you buy?"

  "Penn'orth o' blacklead," said Robert cheerfully.

  "Making the case pretty black, ain't you? You didn't buy a pound ofcandles, of course--best wax candles. But, if you did buy candles, whatwere you going to do with them?"

  "I don't know what you can do wi' candles except light them," saidRobert.

  "And you didn't buy a bottle of lubricating oil, because Mrs. Trivellhasn't got any. If you did buy a bottle of salad oil, what would you begoing to do with it?" continued the policeman, in his best and brainishmanner.

  "You can do pretty near anything wi' salad oil," declared Robert.

  "Among the things stolen from Windward House last night were a pair ofsilver candlesticks and a musical box, out of order, but perhaps itmight play a tune if you oiled the works," said the policeman sternly.

  Robert stroked his nose and mentioned that an officer who could put onething to another like that, was not at all required in Highfield parish.

  "What were you doing when this robbery was taking place?" came thequestion.

  "I fancy I might have been giving a hand," Robert admitted cautiously.

  "Who helped you?"

  "I don
't know as anybody helped. But it wasn't a robbery, vor Mrs. Drakeleft all the things to Bessie," said Robert cheerfully.

  "And to other folks as well."

  "I b'ain't responsible vor that. First come, first served; and othervolks take at their peril, I ses."

  "It's my duty to tell Miss Blisland you took the things. Where have youhidden 'em?"

  "Inside the peatstack. If you'm going to tell Kezia, I shall shift thethings into town and sell 'em."

  "That's your affair," replied the constable. "Seems you haven't exactlycommitted a robbery, as you have a sort o' right to the things; and youhaven't committed a trespass, as you can go into the house when you wantto. So I can't charge you with anything. But I reckon it won't be longbefore you have the lawyers after you; and then the Lord ha' mercy onyour pocket, Robert Mudge."

  Before the constable could reach Windward House to report how easily hesolved a problem, his wife ran to meet him with cheering informationconcerning a great fire upon the outskirts of the parish; and, asconflagrations are things no policeman can resist, he mounted hisbicycle and scorched towards an isolated farmhouse which was doomed todestruction; as its bankrupt owner had taken the precaution to storeplenty of dry faggots, well sprinkled with petroleum, within thewell-insured premises. The farmer was sitting upon an upturned pail,which smelt of anything but water, bemoaning his fate, and informing theneighbours that spontaneous combustion would happen sometimes no matterwhat you did to prevent it, when the constable arrived, sniffinggreedily at the clue-laden atmosphere. The farmer replied that the oilbarrel had leaked terribly, and there was no preventing that either. Thepoliceman investigated, went on his way to report, and returned withpapers in his pocket; and, while teaching the farmer a few cheerlessfacts concerning the legal meaning of arson, such a trifling affair asthe Highfield grabbing passed naturally and conveniently from his mind.

  Percy introduced himself to his Aunt, kissed her upon both checksaccording to a family tradition; the bride elect followed his example;and they all talked of Tasmania, tomatoes, tickets, and travelling, witha few remarks upon marriage licences, until Miss Yard rolled off thesofa for sheer joy of motion.

  "Nellie!" she called. "Pack my things at once! Percy and Emmie have gota licence to go to Tasmania, and tickets to get married, and I won'tstay here any longer."

  "But this is your home, Aunt," mentioned Percy.

  "And there are not many places like that, you know," Miss Lee added.

  "I used to have a much better home than this. We had tea parties, andmothers' meetings, and all sorts of nice things. I'm going to forget thepast and begin all over again."

  "Miss Sophy is quite serious," Nellie explained, when Percy approachedher on the subject. "It's very seldom she keeps an idea in her head,but, when she does, it governs her completely. Ever since she was stungby the wasp she has been worrying to get away."

  "How about taking her back to Drivelford?" suggested Percy.

  "That would do nicely. But you must see to it, else Mr. Drake will; andthere will be more trouble between him and Hunter."

  "George has gone for good," said Percy sternly.

  "He told me all he had to do was to go away; there was nothing said inthe agreement about the time he was to be away. Miss Sophy has writtenalready inviting him back."

  "If he insists upon returning here to live--" began Percy.

  "You will be at the other end of the world, and Hunter won't knowanything about it," she concluded.

  "George is a great scoundrel," said Percy. "I have only another twoweeks in England; but I suppose I must go to Drivelford and find ahouse."

  Miss Yard was delighted when Nellie informed her that the golden age oftea and talk was about to be restored; and she blessed Percy with suchtenderness that her nephew felt compelled to make her a most liberaloffer.

  "You know, Aunt, the furniture in this house belongs to me. It was leftto George, and I bought it from him for two hundred pounds. Don't youthink the best plan would be for you to buy it from me for--shall wesay--one hundred and fifty pounds? I lose and you gain, but that's as itshould be."

  "What an excellent idea!" cried Miss Yard. "Nellie, bring mycheque-book."

  "You cannot afford to spend so much money, especially as we have a movebefore us," said Nellie quietly.

  "Oh, I'll take a hundred pounds," said Percy.

  "Miss Sophy cannot afford that either."

  "That's what she always says, but I tell her I can afford it," said MissYard crossly.

  Percy began to feel uncomfortable, as this was the first time his goldengoose had been prohibited from egg laying. He made up his mind thatNellie was developing into an offensive young person; honest no doubt,and admirably suited to control Miss Yard; but with mistaken notions asto the dignity of a nephew and trustee. He sought, therefore, a secretinterview with the young lady, in order that he might caution heragainst any further opposition, and remind her that in all financialmatters his word must be the last; and this interview was granted verywillingly.

  "Sit down, please," he began, when they had entered the dining room.

  "If you stand, I shall too," replied Nellie, who was holding a smallarticle wrapped in paper.

  "Just as you like," said Percy. "Is that Miss Yard's passbook?"

  "No," she replied. "But if you want to see the passbook I will fetch it.Miss Sophy has a little over two hundred pounds at present."

  "Another dividend is due next month. My aunt is quite able to pay ahundred pounds for the furniture."

  "The question is," said Nellie, "to whom does the furniture belong?"

  "To me, of course."

  "Have you what the lawyers call a good title?"

  "I hope you are not going to be impertinent, Miss Blisland," said Percysharply.

  "I know Mrs. Drake left the furniture to Mr. George," she continued,thankful of her promise not to mention those numerous scraps of paper.

  "And I bought the stuff from him."

  "With Miss Sophy's money."

  "What has that to do with you? I can borrow from my aunt, and of courseshe does not expect me to repay the money."

  "But I expect it. I manage her affairs, and I tell you plainly thisborrowing must cease. I shall not allow Miss Sophy to pay you a singlepenny for the furniture, because it is hers already," said Nellie, withall the coldness of a magistrate sentencing a poacher.

  "The little devil! You had better keep your mouth shut, or I may betempted to say something rude. I don't want to forget I am talking to ayoung woman. You have just got to do what I tell you," blustered Percy.

  "But I decline," said Nellie sweetly.

  "Then you can look out for another job. I shall tell Hunter I havedismissed you for gross impertinence. That's all I have to say. You maygo now."

  "Thank you," she said. "But I haven't finished yet. I want to know whatis going to be done about the furniture."

  "I have nothing more to say to you."

  "You must tell Miss Sophy, and she will consult me. So I may as wellhear your decision at once."

  "I shall have a sale," replied Percy. "My aunt can buy new furniturewhen she gets to Drivelford. After all, it's not so very much moreexpensive than moving it."

  "You will do nothing of the kind," said Nellie.

  Again Percy was tempted to say something rude; and again he yielded.Then an explanation flashed across his mind and he began to laugh.

  "I see what it is! My aunt has promised to leave you as much as shecan--"

  "Then why should I object to her buying the furniture?"

  "All I know is you won't get it. I shall visit the nearest auctioneertomorrow--"

  "It's time we changed the subject. I believe this is your property,"interrupted Nellie, holding out the packet wrapped in paper. "Do youthink it fair to ask Miss Sophy to pay for the furniture twice over,when you have just come into two thousand pounds?" she added.

  "Who told you that?" cried Percy, snatching the packet and tearing offthe covering. "My pocketbook! You stole it
from my room. You have beenthrough my letters. You are the most unscrupulous young woman!"

  "We had better not talk about stealing. Perhaps you remember sitting inthe garden with Miss Lee yesterday evening. You did not come in untildark, and you were so much engaged in discussing your plans that youforgot to bring in the chairs. You also forgot your pocketbook. Keziafound it and gave it to me. Now I return it."

  "After turning it inside out," he muttered, dropping the lion's hide andassuming the calfskin.

  "I have not even opened it," she replied.

  "Then how do you know I have come into two thousand pounds?"

  "A gentleman called Crampy told me."

  "Crampy! He couldn't tell you--he wouldn't!"

  "It must have been one of the parrots then," said Nellie gleefully. "Letme tell you a story! Once upon a time there was an idle gentleman whohad made up his mind never to work for his living, because he owned apair of Chinese vases which were supposed to be priceless. Thisgentleman had a cousin, who knew the vases were exceedingly valuable,and, as he was a bad man, in fact a terribly unscrupulous man," saidNellie, opening her eyes widely.

  "Here, I say! You stop that!" bellowed Percy.

  "I'm having my revenge for being called a little devil," she said gaily."As this cousin was a thorough scoundrel, he determined to grab thevases, so he went to another unscrupulous man called Crampy and toldhim, if he could get the vases cheaply from the idle gentleman, heshould have half the profit. Crampy agreed, visited the gentleman, sawthat the vases were genuine, and offered him a thousand pounds. Theoffer was refused and Crampy went away, beaten on the first round. Hisnext step was to send the idle gentleman a list of collectors who couldbe trusted; and this was followed by a visit from an Americanmillionaire, Josiah P. Jenkins, who in his own domestic circle wasgenerally known as Bill Sawdye."

  Percy forgot himself and swore.

  "The story is not very clear at this point, but it appears Bill Sawdyewas a sort of handyman employed by Crampy for dirty little jobs likethis. He offered the idle gentleman two thousand pounds for the vases.This was accepted, Bill paid the money, and took the things away."

  "I don't want to hear any more," muttered Percy, gulping like a fish.

  "But I must have the satisfaction of showing you how well up I am in thelatest criminal news," said Nellie. "Next day Bill sent back the vases,swearing they were forgeries, and assuring him Crampy was the last hope.The idle gentleman communicated at once with Crampy, agreeing to accepthis offer. Crampy paid the thousand pounds and went off with the vases.He sold them for five thousand, and that left four thousand to bedivided between the wicked cousin and himself. It was understood thatCrampy should pay Bill and all expenses. These two scoundrels expect tolive happily ever after, but I'm sure they won't," concluded Nellie.

  "I was a fool to have kept Crampy's letter. But what right had you totake it out of my pocketbook and read it?" growled Percy.

  "I told you I never looked inside your pocketbook, but you left itunfastened, and there was a good deal of wind in the night. Thismorning, when I went out to pick sweet-peas, I saw a letter blownagainst the sticks. I glanced at it out of ordinary curiosity, I read onout of interest, and I finished it out of duty."

  "Now you can hand it over," said Percy sulkily.

  "I intend to keep it for the present. I may even have to send it on toMr. George."

  "He can't do anything. It was a trick, but a perfectly straightforwardbusiness trick. Crampy made an offer, and he accepted it."

  "Mr. George is a stronger man than you, though he does pretend to have aweak back. If he knew about this, and could get at you, I believe hewould break your head. He would write to Hunter anyhow, tell Miss Leeand all her family--"

  "Do you know his address?"

  "Yes, and I can bring him here tomorrow; and I will too, if you refuseto make over the furniture to Miss Sophy. That is only fair, as she haspaid for it."

  "If I consent to make my aunt a present of the furniture?" suggestedPercy.

  "Then I promise not to mention the matter to Mr. George."

  "All right. I'll tell Hunter to draw up a deed of gift. Of course youunderstand it would be useless telling George, as he cannot recover thevases or make any claim against me?"

  "Then why are you clearing out of the country?"

  "The soil of Tasmania is said to be ideal for--"

  "Fugitives from justice," finished Nellie.

  "Emmie, my darling," said Percy, a few minutes after this interview, "Ifeel quite certain there is something wrong with the drains. I shalltell aunt we are leaving in the morning."

  "Percy is so wonderfully unselfish," said Miss Yard to Nellie thatevening. "He has made me a present of all the furniture; and tomorrow heis going to find me a new home."