The Man Who Knew Read Online

They will have a secretary, I'll be bound! If they want anything send it on to them."

    He walked to the sideboard and mixed himself a whisky and soda.

    "I've been out the last three or four times Smith has called. If he comes to-morrow tell him I will see him when I return. Bolt the doors and don't leave it to that jackass, Wilkins."

    Jasper nodded.

    "You think I am a little mad, don't you, Jasper?" asked the older man, standing by the sideboard with the glass in his hand.

    "That thought has never occurred to me," said Jasper. "I think you are eccentric sometimes and inclined to exaggerate the dangers which surround you."

    The other shook his head.

    "I shall die a violent death; I know it. When I was in Zululand an old witch doctor 'tossed the bones.' You have never had that experience?"

    "I can't say that I have," said Jasper, with a little smile.

    "You can laugh at that sort of thing, but I tell you I've got a great faith in it. Once in the king's kraal and once in Echowe it happened, and both witch doctors told me the same thing—that I'd die by violence. I didn't use to worry about it very much, but I suppose I'm growing old now, and living surrounded by the law, as it were, I am too law-abiding. A law-abiding man is one who is afraid of people who are not law-abiding, and I am getting to that stage. You laugh at me because I'm jumpy whenever I see a stranger hanging around the house, but I have got more enemies to the square yard than most people have to the county. I suppose you think I am subject to delusions and ought to be put under restraint. A rich man hasn't a very happy time," he went on, speaking half to himself and half to the young man. "I've met all sorts of people in this country and been introduced as John Minute, the millionaire, and do you know what they say as soon as my back is turned?"

    Jasper offered no suggestion.

    "They say this," John Minute went on, "whether they're young or old, good, bad, or indifferent: 'I wish he'd die and leave me some of his money.'"

    Jasper laughed softly.

    "You haven't a very good opinion of humanity."

    "I have no opinion of humanity," corrected his chief, "and I am going to bed."

    Jasper heard his heavy feet upon the stairs and the thud of them overhead. He waited for some time; then he heard the bed creak. He closed the windows, personally inspected the fastenings of the doors, and went to his little office study on the first floor.

    He shut the door, took out the pocket case, and gave one glance at the portrait, and then took an unopened letter which had come that evening and which, by his deft handling of the mail, he had been able to smuggle into his pocket without John Minute's observance.

    He slit open the envelope, extracted the letter, and read:

    DEAR SIR: Your esteemed favor is to hand. We have to thank you for the check, and we are very pleased that we have given you satisfactory service. The search has been a very long and, I am afraid, a very expensive one to yourself, but now that discovery has been made I trust you will feel rewarded for your energies.

    The note bore no heading, and was signed "J. B. Fleming."

    Jasper read it carefully, and then, striking a match, lit the paper and watched it burn in the grate.

    The northern express had deposited its passengers at King's Cross on time. All the station approaches were crowded with hurrying passengers. Taxicabs and "growlers" were mixed in apparently inextricable confusion. There was a roaring babble of instruction and counter-instruction from police-men, from cab drivers, and from excited porters. Some of the passengers hurried swiftly across the broad asphalt space and disappeared down the stairs toward the underground station. Others waited for unpunctual friends with protesting and frequent examination of their watches.

    One alone seemed wholly bewildered by the noise and commotion. She was a young girl not more than eighteen, and she struggled with two or three brown paper parcels, a hat-box, and a bulky hand-bag. She was among those who expected to be met at the station, for she looked helplessly at the clock and wandered from one side of the building to the other till at last she came to a standstill in the center, put down all her parcels carefully, and, taking a letter from a shabby little bag, opened it and read.

    Evidently she saw something which she had not noticed before, for she hastily replaced the letter in the bag, scrambled together her parcels, and walked swiftly out of the station. Again she came to a halt and looked round the darkened courtyard.

    "Here!" snapped a voice irritably. She saw a door of a taxicab open, and came toward it timidly.

    "Come in, come in, for heaven's sake!" said the voice.

    She put in her parcels and stepped into the cab. The owner of the voice closed the door with a bang, and the taxi moved on.

    "I've been waiting here ten minutes," said the man in the cab.

    "I'm so sorry, dear, but I didn't read—"

    "Of course you didn't read," interrupted the other brusquely.

    It was the voice of a young man not in the best of tempers, and the girl, folding her hands in her lap, prepared for the tirade which she knew was to follow her act of omission.

    "You never seem to be able to do anything right," said the man. "I suppose it is your natural stupidity."

    "Why couldn't you meet me inside the station?" she asked with some show of spirit.

    "I've told you a dozen times that I don't want to be seen with you," said the man brutally.