The Missing Million, etc

Front matter

THE MISSING MILLION INTO THE THICK OF THEM ! ' HISSED STEADY THE Missing Million BY E. HARCOURT BURRAGE AUTHOR OF " THE SLAVE RAIDERS OF ZANZIBAR," " WHITHER BOUND," ETC. FRONTISPIECE BY HAROLD PJFFARD. DLonDon S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO. 8 and 9, PATERNOSTER ROW CONTENTS BOOK THE FIRST THE VANISHMENT OF THE MONEY CHAP. PAGE I. THE END OF A BUSY LIFE .... 7 II. THE VANISHING OF THE MILLION . . 13 III. JARROW SEARCHES IN VAIN — WANTED, THE ADDRESS OF DAVID LONGLEY 22 IV. DAVID LONGLEY'S FLIGHT . . . .29 BOOK THE SECOND SEEKING THE LOST MILLION THE LONG WATCH OF A NIGHT — THE MISSING MAN ....... 39 II. ON THE WATCH - TOWER — MAN OR BEAST ? — A CAPTURE ..... 50 III. WHITE MAN'S FATE — WHO IS IT ? . -58 IV. TADDY'S CANOE — DOWN THE AMAZON — THE CIMARO VILLAGE 65 V. THE FIGHT — A RESCUE AND A STRANGE DISCOVERY 76 VI.

CECIL'S DOUBTS AND FEARS THE RETURN TO THE TEMPLE — A BLANK ... 84 VII. THE STORY OF A CAPTIVITY ... 93 VIII. TADDY SHOWS HOW USEFUL HE CAN BE — DISCOVERY OF AN EARTH IDOL . 1 Contents 6 CHAP. PAGE IX. STEADY JACKMAN IN DIFFICULTIES . . Il8 X. A DAY OF CHAOS . . . • I27 XI. AFTER THE STORM . . . ■ • 13^ XII. SEVEN DAYS LATER — SHORT RATIONS . . 143 XIII. THE CHARACTER OF DAVID LONGLEY . I49 BOOK THE THIRD THE FINAL SEARCH I. A MISSING MAN TURNS UP . . . 157 II. THE STRANGEST PART OF THE STORY . 167 III. DAVID LONGLEY BECOMES THE TENANT OF OSMOND PATON'S OFFICE AND HOME . 1 73 IV. JARROW FINDS DOUBLE DUTY AS SERVANT AND DETECTIVE RATHER WEARING . 180 V. A BANKRUPT CONFECTIONER . . 1 87 VI. ANOTHER MAN WITH A SCAR ON HIS LIP . 1 95 VII. CECIL HAS FAITH IN LONGLEY . . . 200 VIII. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF TADDY . . 2IO IX.

DEAD OR ALIVE . . . . . . 2l6 X. A PERSISTENT ATTENDANT . . . 222 XI. ANOTHER BARRIER TO SUCCESS . . . 234 XII. MR. LEMUEL MASON IS SOBERED BY HIS WIFE 242 XIII. MR. LEVI, OF THESPAN STREET, HOUNDSDITCH 250 XIV. THE JEW AND THE TATTOOED GENTILE . 264 XV. A MIDNIGHT GATHERING . . . -274 XVI. JARROW AND THE JEW ON THORNS " 282 XVII. DAVID LONGLEY BEGINS AN INTERESTING TALE 289 XVIII. DAVID FINISHES HIS STORY . . . 298 XIX. THE REVELATION OF THE SECRET OF THE SAFE 303 XX. THE END OF DOUBT AND CARE . . BOOK THE FIRST THE VANISHMENT OF THE .MONEY

Chapter I The End Of

A BUSY LIFE THE grey light of early morning stole over the great city of London, and filtered down to the depths of a narrow court within a stone's throw of the Bank of England, making its way into the private room of Osmond Paton, merchant, and with the repu tation of being one of the most eccentric characters among those with whom he was brought into daily contact. All his life he had been a bachelor, and, unlike his trading and speculating brethren, lived where he made his money. There was nothing strange in his being in his office at six o'clock of an autumn day, for it had been his habit to work at all hours, sometimes late, sometimes early, as the whim possessed him. And he was there alone that morning. Mrs. Tibbits, his housekeeper, entering the office to dust and put it in order, was not surprised to find him there, sitting in a chair, with his head resting on his arms, placed upon the table.

She had often of late found him thus. " Sleeping in that unnateral way again," she murmured, " it can't do him any good ; and all this toiling and moiling for money that he will never make use of." It was not an ordinary office. Osmond Paton had a taste for art, preferring old paintings and engravings. The walls were covered with them — choice specimens of the brush and graver's tool, picked up cheap at sales. Osmond Paton was not the man to pay a fancy price for anything. In a corner of the room portfolios filled with etchings and . engravings lay piled up in care less profusion. A little fortune lay in the dusty heap which Mrs. Tibbits thought worthy of nothing better than lighting a fire with — mere bits of printed paper. She was an excellent woman, thrifty and honest, but Art to her was a thing that found no responsive echo in her breast.

The End of a Busy Life 9 As she dusted the frames of the pictures, she turned at intervals to look at the white head of the merchant. Suddenly, it struck her he was abnormally still. Creeping up, she listened for his breathing, but heard nothing. A dreadful quietude lay on the form of the man. She touched him on the shoulder, then lifted his head, and as it fell back upon his arm she saw that he was dead. For a moment she stood dumbly looking at her hands, as if they had something to do with her master's death. Then she tottered from the office across to an outer one, where two young clerks found employment by day, and into the court, where she saw a policeman solemnly stalking on his way. " My master — dead," was all she could say. The officer wheeled about, asked her what was the matter, and obeying her beckoning hand, followed her to where the dead man sat limply in his chair.

The officer perfunctorily examined him, and asked Mrs. Tibbits to get a doctor and take a message to the Mansion House police-office. An inspector soon arrived, and shortly after him a doctor. The former proceeded to look about the room, making notes of its arrangement in his mind, and the latter speedily assured himself he could be of no service to the merchant. " He has been dead some hours," he said ; " probably died about three or four o'clock this morning. " A natural death ? " queried the inspector. He had his doubts. " I think so," was the answer. There was no evidence of Osmond Paton having taken poison. On the writing-table near the dead man's elbow was a glass with some dirty water in it. It smelt of leather, and close by was a piece of that material, wet as if it had been washed in the glass.

"Do they use poisons in tanning?" asked the inspector. " Not that I know of," answered the doctor ; " but this water had better be kept for analysis." " Assuredly." Assistance was obtained and the body carried to an upper room where the merchant used to sleep. There a thorough examination of the body was made by the doctor, who found no wound — nothing to account for the sudden stoppage of life. The End of a Busy Life 11 Nor was there anything in the office to account for it. No empty bottle, no cup or glass, beyond the one smelling of tan-water, to throw light on the grim affair. " He's been complaining of his chest lately, sir," said Mrs. Tibbits, tearfully. Where ? " asked the doctor. His chest ; just here, sir." " Ah ! a case ol heart failure. Has he any friends ? " " Nobody ever came here — as a friend," said Mrs. Tibbits, after a moment's reflection.

" He has two brothers abroad, and I think they wrote to him sometimes ; but he was not a man to talk. Lately there's been a young man here " She stopped short, as if she had touched upon a forbidden subject. The inspector who was standing by eyed her keenly. " Well," he said, " a young man — what of him ? " " Not to deceive you," said Mrs. Tibbits, tearfully, " he's my nephew, the son of my youngest sister — which she is dead, poor thing ! and spared the grief her ne'er-do-well boy would have caused her. He's been here several times with Mr. Paton, shut up in that office with him, helping with the pictures, I suppose." " And when was he here last ? " " I wouldn't deceive you, gentlemen. He was here last night. I heard him go out about ten o'clock." " His name ? " " David Longley." " And where does he live ?

" " At coffee-shops, and anywheres. Though the handiest young man that ever lived— he could turn his hand to anything — to regular work or a regular home you couldn't keep him." " Well, we may want him," said the inspector. " Doctor, I must leave you, to see the coroner and arrange for the inquest."

Chapter II The Vanishing Of The Million Osmond Paton

is dead, and he's left a million, if a penny." That was the opinion of many — worth a million, if anything. The inquest was held and the attendance was large, owing to the public curiosity to learn something of the life of which they had seen so little, save in business hours. But there was little to satisfy the general curiosity. A post-mortem examination showed that death was due to syncope, the result of long hours of close attention to business. The doctor thought that extraordinary application might have been supplemented by some strenuous laborious act. But he could not be sure. Anyway, there was the fact — the end of the merchant was a perfectly natural one. No suspicion could be entertained of foul play, and the name of Mrs. Tibbits' graceless nephew was not mentioned. At the inquest a Mr. Edmond Rickman, solicitor of the dead man, appeared, and made some reference to the affairs of the deceased.

Undoubtedly he had died very rich, and the general estimate of a million was possibly below the mark. With a keen eye to take advantage of the stock market, and a shrewd, speculative mind, Osmond Paton made money rapidly, but spent little, even on his favourite pictures. " He bought nothing unless it was very cheap at the price," the lawyer said ; " possibly he may have spent five hundred pounds on his collection, which he has assured me is worth as many thousands." "Who has charge ofhis estate ?" inquired one of the jury. " I have his will in my keeping," said the lawyer. " There is no secret in it. After his death everything is to be sold. For his house keeper a life annuity of two pounds a week is to be bought. For myself there is a thousand pounds, and the rest goes to his brothers, two in number, who are in Quito."

One of the jury wanted to know where Quito was, and the lawyer informed him that it was the capital of Ecuador. The juryman did not seem to be entirely enlightened, but he asked no more questions. Verdict : " Natural Death." The next day the funeral took place without exciting the least interest in the public breast. Mr. Rickman followed, and invited the doctor to accompany him as a friend. It came to that or Mrs. Tibbits, and the lawyer had the strongest objection to emotional old women, who accentuated their grief with stories of the deceased, more or less obscured by misty idioms and acute grammatical errors. But after the funeral the two men returned to the house in the narrow court, and in the presence of Mrs. Tibbits the lawyer read the will. He had fully imparted its contents at the inquest.

In commendable brevity it left a million of money to his two brothers, Reginald and John, to be divided into equal parts and handed to them on their applying for the same to Edmond Rickman, solicitor, who was to receive a thousand pounds for his trouble as sole executor. Mrs. Tibbits' tears were dried by the prospect of a small independency. "He trusted me," said the lawyer, when he was left alone with the doctor, " but only to a certain extent. I have never handled a penny of his money except as payment for services." " Where is it, then — in landed property ? " asked the doctor. " No. I find that he deposited it some time ago in the Bank of England. He had property once, but he sold it. Also shares in some good paying companies. It seemed to me that he was getting nervous, and thought that nothing was equal to absolute cash.

He was always eccentric." " Then the money is in the Bank of England ? " " I believe so ; but I have not found his pass-book. Possibly he left it at the bank just before his death. We can walk over and make inquiries." That night a most startling rumour appeared in the special edition of the evening papers. A million of money had vanished. It was the money of Osmond Paton. Only a month before it had been lying in the bank, but day after day the depositor had drawn out large sums in notes of a hundred and five hundred pounds. As he always came personally to cash the cheques, nothing was thought of it. A known speculator, the clerks assumed Osmond Paton was secretly endeavouring to effect some big coup in the stock and share market. But a few inquiries made on the following day led to the discovery that for weeks the dead man had not been seen in Capel Court, or held any communication with his business associates.

Again, on one occasion when he drew out ten thousand pounds from the bank, one of its private detectives, noting the largeness of the withdrawal, followed him. Osmond Paton of late had become somewhat enfeebled with premature old age, and the officer thought it possible some attempt might be made to rob him. But he conveyed the money in safety to his office, and there the detective left him. What had he done with it ? Obviously it was the first duty of the lawyer to look into the matter. The inference was that, always niggardly, he had suddenly become imbued with the spirit of a miser and hidden it somewhere about his home. Notes for large amounts can be stored as easily away as for smaller ones. The entire million, as Osmond Paton drew it from the bank, could be packed in a box a foot square.

The problem was — had he stored it any where, and if he had done so, where was it ? Arrangements were being made for the sale of the office furniture, fixtures, and pictures. It was immediately postponed, and Mr. Rickman called in a private detective named Jarrow to assist him in the search. " I want everything aboveboard," said Mr. Rickman; "though a lawyer, I am passably honest. Now, Jarrow, here is the house — where will you begin ? " " Cellars first," said Jarrow. "There is only a small basement with a cemented flooring and plain plastered walls," said the lawyer. Jarrow examined the basement. The cemented floor was many years old, and the plastering was older. A scrap of paper could not have been hidden there. From the cellar the detective went to the top of the house. The rooms there were empty, and the next floor was occupied by the housekeeper.

She knew nothing of the notes, but the detective proposed to search her boxes. As a mere matter of form, with many apologies, it was done, and, womanlike, she objected when it was too late. Mrs. Tibbits was majestically indignant, and asked if it " would be anyways conwenient for her to leave the 'ouse at once ? " Being in formed she could depart that very moment, she decided to stay until it suited her arrangements for a future home. " Don't be foolish, Mrs. Tibbits," said the lawyer, smiling; " it was a mere matter of duty. You are not suspected." " I never saw him, poor dear, with any notes, but once," said Mrs. Tibbits, "and that was the last night my nephew David came. I showed him into the office, and there they was, two bundles of 'em on the table. Mr. Paton quickly popped them out of sight, but I couldn't but see 'em."

" Has your nephew been here since ?" casually inquired Rickman. " Not a single eye 'ave I set on him." " One would have thought he would have called in to learn something about a man who had helped him." "Whether David was helped or not I don't know. Whatsomever he came for to do he was mighty close about, which led to words. I'm his aunt, and he ought to have had no secrets from me." " Perhaps he had nothing to tell," suggested Jarrow. " There was something atwixt them," said Mrs. Tibbits, shaking her head, " although it may be frames only, for David could make 'em as if he had been bound to the trade in his cradle. He brought a big one home one night — was it the last night he was here ? I don't know. The shock I had when I see poor master so peaceful, and to think that I'd been doin' the dustin' as if nothing was wrong " " You saw a frame," interposed the lawyer.

" What sort of a thing was it ? " " Of considerable size, wropped in paper. I didn't take partickler note of it, for it was getting dark, and I was lighting the lamp in the outer office. ' David,' says I, ' how did you get in ? ' which it was a surprise to me. ' I've got a key,' he says, shortly, and opens Mr. Paton's door as bold as if it was his own." "Was Mr. Paton in his office?" asked Jarrow. " He was. I see him as he looked up at David," said Mrs. Tibbits — " it must have been that night I see the notes. No, it wasn't — I remember now ; it was about a week before." "Has that office been disturbed?" inquired Jarrow. " No, not to any extent. I locked it up and kept the key," said the lawyer. " The fact is, I thought of the possibility of curious, vulgar people pestering the housekeeper to show the room, and that I objected to." "You have done the right thing, sir," said the detective, "and before going round the rest of the house I'll overhaul the office."

Chapter III Jarrow Searches In Vain Wanted, The Address Of David Longley

I HAVE the keys ofhis table drawers, the desk, and that old safe in the corner — in fact, of everything," said Mr. Rickman; "it is getting dark, and we had better light the gas." A triple burner hung from the ceiling, and he lighted it. Jarrow sat down and the lawyer took a seat opposite him. " There are two things to look for — the notes if hidden, and the man if they are stolen. Bringing home a picture-frame points to their being hidden." "You would not look for framed notes, surely." " A frame may be made hollow and a lot of flimsy paper crammed in. Misers have done some very strange things in their time. First of all I'll take down the pictures one by one." They were of all sizes, some with heavy Jarrow Searches in Vain 23 frames, and the task of taking them down and thoroughly examining them occupied the next hour and a half.

Jarrow tore off the paper pasted over the backs of prints to keep away the dust. The oil-paintings were taken out of their frames and every inch of the frames themselves closely scrutinised. But there was not one iota of evidence that any of them were hollow. " Not in this lot," said Jarrow ; " but I think the picture-frame has something to do with it. Can you point out one that hasn't been here long ? " " I have never been but once in this office prior to Paton's death, and then only for a few minutes. He always came to me. He hated visitors." "The drawers next." There were not many — one in the table, and three in the desk. Nothing was in them but some pieces of paper and a poorly-filled diary of the year. While the detective was pursuing his search, Edmond Rickman turned over the leaves, carelessly scanning the brief memoranda written thereon.

"Some fine old prints here," said Jarrow, as he overhauled the portfolios. Receiving no answer he looked up and saw the lawyer sitting with his eyes fixed on the diary, his lips pursed and his brows knitted. " Found anything, Mr. Rickman?" " Here is a memorandum that bears on the mystery, I think: 'Tuesday, May ioth. — Feel something must be done. Securities go wrong ; banks fail. Must hide it. Will write to Reggie one day and tell him where to look for it. Hit on plan this morning. Will take time. The utmost caution necessary.' What do you think of that ? " " Bears on the money, for a certainty," said Jarrow. " Go on with the portfolios," said the lawyer, " I'll read the rest. There may be something more of importance." But there was nothing in the diary to help him, and the detective, having got through the portfolios, was also obliged to admit a failure.

Nothing now remained but the safe, which was a very ordinary, common one about four feet high and three broad. It was just such a safe that in offices is used for account-books only. Osmond Paton utilised it for the storage of t_> his choicest prints. A shelf that formerly divided it had been removed, and the contents Jarrow Searches in Vain 25 lay piled up almost to the top. One by one the engravings and etchings were taken out until nothing was there. It was a mere waste of labour, but Jarrow felt he ought to neglect nothing. " I bought that safe for him three years ago," said Rickman ; " it belonged to a firm of shoemakers who went wrong. It was sold with samples of leather still in it." " Is this one of them?" said Jarrow, picking up the strip of leather which had been found on the morning when Osmond Paton was dis covered dead.

" It may have been," replied the lawyer. " Paton seemingly had been washing it. When we found it, it was in a soaked condition." Jarrow sat down with the fragment of leather in his hand. As he turned it over the lawyer laughed softly. " You don't find the notes sticking to it ? " he said. " No-0-0," answered Jarrow ; "but what was he doing with this piece of leather ? " "I tell you he seemed to have been washing it." " What for ? " " Perhaps it accidentally fell into the glass of water. What matters ? " " You can't tell," said Jarrow. " Everything matters when you are looking into a mystery." " It was thought there might be poison in the leather, or rather the water in which it was washed, but it was not so. Paton died a natural death." " If it was a big diamond, or a handful of them, or something of reasonable size," said the detective, " I could understand the difficulty of finding it.

But think of all those notes, a thousand or more — they take up room." "They are not here," said the lawyer, emphatically ; "I never thought they were. I think it is a case of robbery, and the shock following the discovery killed Paton. I want to ask a question of Mrs. Tibbits." He rang the bell, and in a few minutes the housekeeper appeared, halting by the door. The uncanny associations of the room kept her aloof from it. " Look round, Mrs. Tibbits," said the lawyer. " You knew all that was kept here. Do you miss anything — a box. a portmanteau " " There is a rubbishing old leather port manteau gone," said Mrs. Tibbits, after a hasty survey ; " it's been here for years." " Have you seen it lately? " Wanted, Address of Longley 27 No indeed, nor thought of it." That will do, thank you." Mrs. Tibbits hastened away, and the lawyer, turning to the detective, said — " The notes were put into the old port manteau, and David Longley carried it away with him.

He may have found Paton dead — doctors make mistakes about the time that has elapsed in such cases — and the temptation to rob him proved irresistible. The next thing we have to do is to find David Longley." Obviously they were now wasting their time there, and having put out the gas the lawyer and detective departed. That night the former wrote to an auctioneer requesting him to come and take an inventory of the contents of the house and arrange for a speedy sale thereof. A month passed away, and Jarrow did no more than occasionally look in upon Mr. Rick man or send him a line or two by post. The substance of his communications in both cases can be summed up in a few words. " I am picking up threads, and the whole thing will be completed soon. Until then I say nothing." It is characteristic of the British public to forget the most exciting and interesting events.

At the outset the missing million was a subject of much private talk and paragraphing in the evening papers. Then the interest began to lull. There were hints given that the money was a myth. Osmond Paton had in reality died very poor, lost his money in wild speculation, or never had any to lose. These things were said by those who know so much of a matter — of which they know nothing. Some went so far as to suggest that Edmond Rickman could say more about the missing million if he had a mind to. In plain words, he was suspected of having appropriated it. One of the mean class of persons who revel in sending insulting anonymous communications sent him a postcard asking when he intended to retire on the money of Osmond Paton. The lawyer put it away in a drawer with a smile. Possibly one day he might be able to find out who the writer was, and then, if he proved worth legal powder and shot, he would hear further of the matter.

At last Jarrow came with his story complete. He had succeeded in tracing David Longley, but without finding him. That erratic young man, so long a source of trouble and anxiety to Mrs. Tibbits, was far away across the sea.

Chapter IV David Longley's Flight

" r PHE young fellow was apprenticed to a JL working engineer — technically called a fitter," said Jarrow ; " his place is over Lambeth way, and the business is a small one. He says the youngster was very clever, but idle and restless, always talking about doing something to get rich. His yearnings were to get abroad to some land where there was a chance ot dropping on a gold-mine. That tells in favour of my theory." "Yes," said the lawyer, quietly, " we are right so far." The first thought of suspicion towards David Longley was directed by himself, and he saw no reason why the detective should appropriate it entirely as his own. "When Longley 's time was out," continued Jarrow, "he left the shop and tried to get em ployment on some steamer outward bound to Guayaquil, a port of Ecuador, his idea being to make his way from thence to Quito."

Edmond Rickman started up from his chair. He was essentially a cool man, and it required an exceptional thing to give him a shock. And here was something which he would never have dreamt of. " Quito ! " he said ; " that is where John and Reginald Paton went. The thief is taking the money to the men he has robbed of it." "You are right in assuming that to Quito Longley has gone," said Jarrow ; " he started on the morning of the death of Osmond Paton in the Wild Flower, trader. She is a fairish fast steamer, and has got five weeks' start of us. I may here say that Longley, after leaving the fitter's works, lived at a coffee-shop in Wapping, to be handy for a ship, I suppose, and at first was very hard up. But he afterwards paid his account regularly, and I can't find any trace of his having had employment.

Was Osmond Paton a man of a charitable disposition ? Did he give any money away? Was he the sort of man to take an interest in a youngster who was hard up ? " " He was as hard— as nails," said the lawyer ; " he looked upon all forms of charity as money diverted into a wrong channel." " It occurred to me," said Jarrow, " that Longley might have got at him with a piteous tale of some sort. They became acquainted somehow, and the young man saw him more than once. He made him a picture-frame — perhaps more than one, if Mrs. Tibbits is to be believed." " You may take her word." " We are confronted with another difficulty, Mr. Rickman. It is that we have only sus picion to go upon. There is not a tittle of direct evidence against Longley. But he, too, has his difficulty. It is in the disposal of the money, if he has it.