A Bid for Fortune, Guy Boothby [top 10 novels .txt] 📗

island mentioned in the letter. The strain on our nerves was intense, and I must confess to feeling decidedly nervous as I wondered what would happen if the police boat did not pull up to meet us, as we had that morning arranged.

A quarter to ten chimed from some church ashore as we approached within a hundred yards of our destination. Then I rested on my oars and waited. All round us were the lights of bigger craft, but no rowing-boat could I see. About five minutes before the hour I whispered to Wetherell to make ready, and in answer the old gentleman took a matchbox from his pocket. Exactly as the town clocks struck the hour he lit a vesta; it flared a little and then went out. As it did so a boat shot out of the darkness to port. He struck a second, and then a third. As the last one burned up and then died away, the man rowing the boat I have just referred to struck a light, then another, then another, in rapid succession. Having finished his display, he took up his oars and propelled his boat towards us. When he was within talking distance he said in a gruff voice:

"Is Mr. Wetherell aboard?"

To this my companion immediately answered, with a tremble in his voice, "Yes, here I am!"

"Money all right?"

"Can you see if I hold it up?" asked Mr. Wetherell. As he spoke a long, black boat came into view on the other side of our questioner, and pulled slowly towards him. It was the police boat.

"No, I don't want to see," said the voice again. "But this is the message I was to give you. Pull in towards Circular Quay and find the Maid of the Mist barque. Go aboard her, and take your money down into the cuddy. There you'll get your answer."

"Nothing more?" cried Mr. Wetherell.

"That's all I was told," answered the man, and then said, "Good-night."

At the same moment the police boat pulled up alongside him and made fast. I saw a dark figure enter his boat, and next moment the glare of a lantern fell upon the man's face. I picked up my oars and pulled over to them, getting there just in time to hear the Inspector ask the man his name.

"James Burbidge," was the reply. "I don't know as how you've got anything against me. I'm a licensed waterman, I am."

"Very likely," said the Inspector; "but I want a little explanation from you. How do you come to be mixed up in this business?"

"What--about this 'ere message, d'you mean?"

"Yes, about this message. Where is it from? Who gave it to you?"

"Well, if you'll let me go, I'll tell you all about it," growled the man. "I was up at the Hen and Chickens this evenin', just afore dark, takin' a nobbler along with a friend. Presently in comes a cove in a cloak. He beckons me outside and says, 'Do you want to earn a sufring?'--a sufring is twenty bob. So I says, 'My word, I do!' Then he says, 'Well, you go out on the harbour to-night, and be down agin Shark Point at ten?' I said I would, and so I was. 'You'll see a boat there with an old gent in it,' says he. 'He'll strike three matches, and you do the same. Then ask him if he's Mr. Wetherell. If he says "Yes," ask him if the money's all right? And if he says "Yes" to that, tell him to pull in towards Circular Quay and find the Maid of the Mist barque. He's to take his money down to the cuddy, and he'll get his answer there.' That's the truth so 'elp me bob! I don't know what you wants to go arrestin' of an honest man for."

The Inspector turned to the water police.

"Does any man here know James Burbidge?"

Two or three voices immediately answered in the affirmative, and this seemed to decide the officer, for he turned to the waterman again and said, "As some of my men seem to know you, I'll let you off. But for your own sake go home and keep a silent tongue."

He thereupon clambered back into his own boat and bade the man depart. In less time than it takes to tell he was out of sight. We then drew up alongside the police boat.

"What had we better do, Mr. Inspector?" asked Mr. Wetherell.

"Find the Maid of the Mist at once. She's an untenanted ship, being for sale. You will go aboard, sir, with your companion, and down to the cuddy. Don't take your money, however. We'll draw up alongside as soon as you're below, and when one of their gang, whom you'll despatch for it, comes up to get the coin, we'll collar him, and then come to your assistance. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly. But how are we to know the vessel?"

"Well, the better plan would be for you to follow us. We'll pull to within a hundred yards of her. I learn from one of my men here that she's painted white, so you'll have no difficulty in recognizing her."

"Very well, then, go on, and we'll follow you."

The police boat accordingly set off, and we followed about fifty yards behind her. A thick drizzle was now falling, and it was by no means an easy matter to keep her in sight. For some time we pulled on. Presently we began to get closer to her. In a quarter of an hour we were alongside.

"There's your craft," said the Inspector, pointing as he spoke to a big vessel showing dimly through the scud to starboard of us. "Pull over to her."

I followed his instructions, and, arriving at the vessel's side, hitched on, made the painter fast, and then, having clambered aboard, assisted Mr. Wetherell to do the same. As soon as we had both gained the deck we stood and looked about us, at the same time listening for any sound which might proclaim the presence of the men we had come to meet; but save the sighing of the wind in the shrouds overhead, the dismal creaking of blocks, and the drip of moisture upon the deck, no sign was to be heard. There was nothing for it, therefore, but to make our way below as best we could. Fortunately I had had the forethought to bring with me a small piece of candle, which came in very handily at the present juncture, seeing that the cuddy, when we reached the companion ladder, was wrapt in total darkness. Very carefully I stepped inside, lit the candle, and then, with Mr. Wetherell at my heels, made my way down the steps.

Arriving at the bottom we found ourselves in a fair-sized saloon of the old-fashioned type. Three cabins stood on either side, while from the bottom of the companion ladder, by which we had descended, to a long cushioned locker right aft under the wheel, ran a table covered with American cloth. But there was no man of any kind to be seen. I opened cabin after cabin, and searched each with a like result. We were evidently quite alone in the ship.

"What do you make of it all?" I asked of Mr. Wetherell.

"It looks extremely suspicious," he answered. "Perhaps we're too early for them. But see, Mr. Hatteras, there's something on the table at the farther end."

So there was--something that looked very much like a letter. Together we went round to the end of the table, and there, surely enough, found a letter pinned to the American cloth, and addressed to my companion in a bold but rather quaint handwriting.

"It's for you, Mr. Wetherell," I said, removing the pins and presenting it to him. Thereupon we sat down beside the table, and he broke the seal with trembling fingers. It was not a very long epistle, and ran:--

"MY DEAR MR. WETHERELL,--

"Bags of imitation money and spurious bank-notes will not avail
you, nor is it politic to arrange that the Water Police should meet
you on the harbour for the purpose of arresting me. You have lost
your opportunity, and your daughter accordingly leaves Australia
to-night. I will, however, give you one more chance--take care that
you make the most of it. The sum I now ask is L150,000 with the
stick given you by China Pete, and must be paid without inquiry of
any sort. If you are agreeable to this, advertise as follows, 'I
will Pay--W., and give stick!' in the agony column Sydney Morning
Herald, on the 18th, 19th, and 20th of this present month.
Arrangements will then be made with you.

"THE MAN WHO KNOWS."

"Oh, my God, I've ruined all!" cried Mr. Wetherell as he put the letter down on the table; "and--who knows?--I may have killed my poor child!"

Seeing his misery, I did my best to comfort him; but it was no use. He seemed utterly broken down by the failure of our scheme, and, if the truth must be told, my own heart was quite as heavy. One thing was very certain, there was a traitor in our camp. Some one had overheard our plans and carried them elsewhere. Could it be the footman? If so, he should have it made hot for him when I got sufficient proof against him; I could promise him that most certainly. While I was thinking over this, I heard a footstep on the companion stairs, and a moment later the Inspector made his appearance. His astonishment at finding us alone, reading a letter by the light of one solitary candle, was unmistakable, for he said, as he came towards us and sat down, "Why, how's this? Where are the men?"

"There are none. We've been nicely sold," I answered, handing him the letter. He perused it without further remark, and when he had done so, sat drumming with his fingers upon the table in thought.

"We shall have to look in your own house for the person who has given us away, Mr. Wetherell!" he said at last. "The folk who are running this affair are as cute as men are made nowadays; it's a pleasure to measure swords with them."

"What do you think our next move had better be?"

"Get home as fast as we can. I'll return with you, and we'll talk it over. It's no use our remaining here."

We accordingly went on deck, and descended to our wherry again. This time the Inspector accompanied us, while the police boat set off down the harbour on other business. When we had seen it pull out into the darkness, we threw the imitation money overboard, pushed off for the shore, landed where we had first embarked, and then walked up to Mr. Wetherell's house. It was considerably after twelve o'clock by the time we reached it, but the butler was still sitting up for us. His disappointment seemed as keen as ours when he discovered that we had returned without his young mistress. He followed us up to the study with spirits and glasses, and then at his master's instruction went off to bed.

"Now, gentlemen," began Mr. Wetherell, when the door had closed upon him, "let us discuss the matter thoroughly. But, before we begin, may I offer you cigars?"

The Inspector took one, but I declined, stating that I preferred a pipe.