★ 14 ★::A Gentleman of Leisure
Check, and a Counter Move
Mr. McEachern in the doorway, heavily. As the result of a long with evildoers, the ex-policeman was to of those about him, and at the present moment his mind was aflame. Indeed, a more man might have been for a little as to the of Jimmy and Spike. When McEachern had that Lord Dreever had home a London acquaintance, he had as a possible to the visit the of on the part of the unknown. Lord Dreever, he had felt, was the of to the professional bunco-steerer would himself with of joy. Never, he had himself, had there been a than his since bunco-steering a profession.
When he that the visitor was Jimmy Pitt, his had a thousandfold.
And when, going to his room to for dinner, he had nearly into Spike Mullins in the corridor, his of mind had been that of a man to a of light the that he is on the of a black precipice. Jimmy and Spike had his house together in New York; and here they were, together again, at Dreever Castle. To say that the thing McEachern as is to put the badly. There was once a who that he a and saw it in the air. Ex-Constable McEachern a of rats, and the air to him positively with them.
His had been to to Jimmy’s room there and then; but he had learned society’s lessons well. Though the might fall, he must not be late for dinner, so he and dressed, and an tie put the touches to his wrath.
Jimmy him coolly, without moving from the chair in which he had seated himself. Spike, on the other hand, 88embarrassed; he on one leg and then on the other, as if he were the of each and would make a choice later on.
“You scoundrels!” McEachern.
Spike, who had been for a moments on his right leg, and at last to have come to a decision, to the left, and feebly.
“Say, won’t want me any more, boss?” he whispered.
“No; you can go, Spike.”
“You where you are, you red-headed devil!” said McEachern tartly.
“Run along, Spike,” said Jimmy.
The Bowery boy looked at the of the ex-policeman, which to the door.
“Would you mind my man pass?” said Jimmy.
“You stay——” McEachern.
Jimmy got up and walked him to the door, which he opened. Spike out like a from a trap. He was not in courage, but he interviews, and it him that Jimmy was the man to a of this kind. He that he himself would only be in the way.
“Now we can talk comfortably,” said Jimmy, going to his chair.
McEachern’s deep-set and his red, but he his feelings.
“And now——” he said.
He stopped.
“Yes?” asked Jimmy.
“What are you doing here?”
“Nothing at the moment.”
“You know what I mean. Why are you here—you and that red-headed devil, Spike Mullins?”
He his in the direction of the door.
“I am here I was very to come by Lord Dreever.”
“I know you.”
“You have that privilege. Seeing we only met once, it’s very good of you to me.”
“What’s your game? What do you to do?”
“To do? Well, I shall about the garden, you know, and shoot a bit, perhaps, and look at the horses, and think of life, and 89feed the chickens— I there are about—and possibly go for an occasional on the lake. Nothing more. Oh, yes, I they want me to act in some theatricals.”
“You’ll miss those theatricals. You’ll here to-morrow.”
“To-morrow? But I’ve only just arrived, dear heart.”
“I don’t about that. Out you go to-morrow. I’ll give you till to-morrow.”
“I you,” said Jimmy. “One of the houses in England.”
“What do you mean?”
“I from what you said that you had the castle. Isn’t that so? If it still to Lord Dreever, don’t you think you ought to him his list of guests?”
McEachern looked at him steadily. His manner quieter.
“Oh! you take that tone, do you?”
“I don’t know what you by ‘that tone’. What would you take if a ordered you to another man’s house?”
McEachern’s in the manner which had good into East Siders.
“I know your sort,” he said. “I’ll call your bluff. And you won’t till to-morrow, either—it’ll be now.”
“‘Why should we wait for the morrow? You are queen of my to-night,’” Jimmy encouragingly.
“I’ll you them all. I’ll tell them everything.”
Jimmy his head.
“Too melodramatic,” he said. “Sort of ‘I call on Heaven to judge this man and me’ of thing. I shouldn’t. What do you to tell, anyway?”
“Will you that you were a in New York?”
“I will. I was nothing of the kind.”
“What?”
“If you’ll listen, I can explain.”
“Explain!” The other’s voice rose again. “You talk about explaining, you scum, when I you in my own at three in the morning, you——”
The from Jimmy’s face.
“Half a minute,” he said.
It might be that the would be to let the itself and then to the whole of Arthur Mifflin and the which had to his one into 90burglary. But he it. Things—including his temper—had got the stage of explanations. McEachern would most his story. What would after that he did not know. A scene, probably—a denunciation, at the worst, the other guests; at the best, Sir Thomas alone. He saw nothing but that. His was thin to a degree, unless by witnesses, and his were three thousand miles away. Worse, he had not been alone in the policeman’s parlour. A man who is a house for a not do it in the company of a professional well to the police.
No; must be postponed. They do no good, and would lead to his the night and the next nights at the local police-station. And if he were that fate, it was that he would have to the castle.
Leave the and Molly! He jumped up. The had him.
“One moment,” he said.
McEachern stopped.
“Well?”
“You’re going to tell them that?” asked Jimmy.
“I am.”
“Are you also going to tell them why you didn’t have me that night?” he said.
McEachern started. Jimmy planted himself in of him and up into his face. It would have been hard to say which of the two was the angrier. The was flushed, and the out on his forehead. Jimmy was in a white of rage. He had very pale, and his were quivering. Jimmy in this mood had once a Los Angeles bar-room with the leg of a chair in the space of two and a minutes by the clock.
“Are you?” he demanded. “Are you?”
McEachern’s hand, at his side, itself hesitatingly. The against Jimmy’s shoulder. Jimmy’s twitched.
“Yes,” he said, “do it! Do it, and see what happens! By God! if you put a hand on me I’ll you. Do you think you can me? Do you think I for your size?”
McEachern his hand. For the time in his life he 91had met a man who, told him, was his match and more. He a pace.
Jimmy put his hands in his pockets and away. He walked to the and his against it.
“You haven’t answered my question,” he said. “Perhaps you can’t!”
McEachern was his and quickly.
“If you like,” said Jimmy, “we’ll go to the drawing-room now, and you shall tell your and I’ll tell mine. I wonder which they will think the more interesting? Damn you!” he on, his anger once more, “what do you by it? You come into my room and and talk big about crooks. What do you call yourself, I wonder? Do you what you are? Why, Spike’s an with you! He did take chances. He wasn’t in a position of trust. You——”
He stopped.
“Hadn’t you out of here, don’t you think?” he said curtly.
Without a word McEachern walked to the door and out.
Jimmy into a chair with a breath. He took up his cigarette-case, but he light a match the from the distance.
He rose and laughed shakily. He limp. “As an to papa,” he said, “I’m that wasn’t much of a success.”
It was not often that Mr. McEachern was visited by ideas—he ran to than to brain—but he had one that dinner. His with Jimmy had left him furious, but baffled. He that his hands were tied. Frontal attack was useless; to drive Jimmy from the would be out of the question. All that be done was to watch him while he was there, for he had been more of anything in his life than that Jimmy had his way into the house-party with intent. The of Lady Julia at dinner the famous rope of diamonds an motive. The necklace had an reputation. Probably there was not a in England or on the Continent who had not marked it as a possible prey. It had already been for once. It was big game—just the of which would the type of he Jimmy to be.
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From his seat at the end of the table he looked at the as they on their wearer’s neck. They were almost too for what was, after all, an dinner. It was not a rope of diamonds—it was a collar. There was something Oriental and in the of jewellery. It was a prize for which a would much.
The with the fish, was not of a to remove from his mind the by the of the gems. It on burglary. Lord Dreever it.
“Oh, I say,” he said. “I to tell you, Aunt Julia; No. 6 was the other night.”
No. 6A Eaton Square was the family’s London house.
“Burgled!” said Sir Thomas.
“Well, into,” said his lordship, to that he had got the ear of his entire audience. Even Lady Julia was and attentive. “Chap got through the window about one o’clock in the morning.”
“And what did you do?” Sir Thomas.
“Oh, I—er— I was out at the time,” said Lord Dreever. “But something the feller,” he on hurriedly, “and he a for it without taking anything.”
“Burglary,” said a man Jimmy to be the drama-loving Charteris, and taking of a pause, “is the hobby of the sportsman and the life-work of the avaricious.”
He took a little pencil from his pocket and a note on his cuff.
Everybody to have something to say on the subject. One lady gave it as her opinion that she would not like to a under her bed. Somebody also had of a father had at the under the that he was a house-breaker, and had a valuable of Socrates. Lord Dreever had a man at college for comedy, and had done one about a burglar’s best friend being his mother.
“Life,” said Charteris, who had had time for reflection, “is a house which we all burgle. We enter it uninvited, take all that we can hands on, and go out again.”
He “Life—house—burgle” on his and replaced the pencil.
“This man’s I was telling you about,” said Lord 93Dreever, “says there’s only one in the English language to ‘burglar,’ and that’s ‘gurgler’—unless you count ‘pergola.’ He says——”
“Personally,” said Jimmy, with a at McEachern, “I have a for burglars. After all, they are one of the hardest-working in existence. They while else is asleep. Besides, a is only a practical Socialist. People talk a about the of wealth. The goes out and it. I have some of the I have met.”
“I burglars!” Lady Julia, with a which stopped Jimmy’s as if a had been off. “If I one after my and I had a pistol I’d shoot him.”
Jimmy met McEachern’s eye, and at him. The ex-policeman was looking at him with the of a but basilisk.
“I take very good no one a at your diamonds, my dear,” said Sir Thomas, without a blush. “I have had a box for me,” he added to the company in general, “with a special lock—a very arrangement, unbreakable, I imagine.”
Jimmy, with Molly’s fresh in his mind, not check a smile. Mr. McEachern, him intently, saw it. To him it was fresh evidence, if any had been wanted, of Jimmy’s intentions, and of his of success. McEachern’s darkened. During the of the him more than was his at the dinner-table. The of his position was, he saw, great. Jimmy, to be foiled, must be watched, and how he watch him?
It was not until the coffee that he an answer to the question. With his cigarette came the idea. That night, in his room, going to bed, he a letter. It was an letter, but enough, almost with one Sir Thomas Blunt had that very morning.
It was to the Manager of Dodson’s Private Inquiry Agency, of Bishopsgate Street, E.C., and ran as follows:
“Sir,— On receipt of this, send one of your men. Instruct him to at the village in the of American of England and to Dreever Castle. I will meet him in the village and 94him as old New York friend, and will then give him instructions.— Yours faithfully, J. McEachern.
“P.S.— Kindly not send a rube, but a man.”
This but cost him some pains in its composition. He was not a writer, but he it at last to his satisfaction. There was a purity in the which pleased him. He sealed up the and it into his pocket. He more at now. Such was the that had up Sir Thomas Blunt and himself as the result of the in Paris that he count with on the successful of his scheme. The would not be likely to allow any old New York friend of his to at the village inn. The sleuth-hound would at once be at the castle, where, by Jimmy, he would keep an on the of events. Any looking after that Mr. James Pitt might might safely be left in the hands of this expert.
With Mr. McEachern himself on his astuteness. With Jimmy above stairs and Spike below, the sleuth-hound would have his hands full.
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