Miser Farebrother: A Novel (vol. 3 of 3). Farjeon Benjamin Leopold

Benjamin Leopold

      Miser Farebrother: A Novel (vol. 3 of 3)

      CHAPTER I

      A BAD BUSINESS

      At ten o'clock on this morning Captain Ablewhite, unannounced, and without knocking at the door, walked into Jeremiah's room in the hotel at which he had taken up his quarters. Jeremiah was still in bed. Closing the door carefully behind him and turning the key, Captain Ablewhite drew a chair to the side of the bed and sat down.

      "This is a bad business," said Captain Ablewhite.

      Jeremiah was in a parlous condition. His face was haggard; his eyes were bloodshot; he was shaking like a man in a palsy.

      "This is a bad business," repeated Captain Ablewhite, "You are too much upset to reply. But why, oh, why have you lost your head?"

      Jeremiah put his hand up, feebly and despairingly, and passed it vacantly over his forehead.

      "I have here," said Captain Ablewhite, plunging his hands into the pockets of his gorgeous dressing-gown, "a pick-me-up. It will pull you round, and then we can talk."

      He produced two bottles – one containing the pick-me-up, the other soda. Taking a large tumbler from a table he poured a good dose of the pick-me-up into it, and then uncorked the soda, which he emptied into the glass.

      "Drink this."

      Jeremiah drank it, and almost instantly became for a while clear-brained.

      "Better?" asked Captain Ablewhite.

      "A great deal better," replied Jeremiah.

      Then, for the third time, the jovial Captain – he was as fresh as a two-year-old – said, "This is a bad business."

      And still, clear-headed as he now was, Jeremiah did not know what to say in answer to a very plain statement of fact.

      "Let me see," said Captain Ablewhite, taking out his pocket-book. "There is nothing like looking a difficulty straight in the face. It is not a bit of good shirking it. What you've got to do is to meet it – and, Mr. Jeremiah Pamflett, meet it you must. Now, then, for the facts. You brought down with you to Doncaster a very comfortable sum of ready money. How much?"

      "Two thousand pounds," replied Jeremiah.

      "That is right. Speak clearly and plainly. Two thousand pounds. If I had that in my pocket at the present moment, I would double it before the day is over. There's a race to be run – however, let that pass."

      "What race?" cried Jeremiah. "Is it a certainty?"

      "It is a certainty," said Captain Ablewhite, solemnly. "I've got the tip for the Scurry Stakes, my lad, and the horse can't lose."

      "But why not give it to me?" asked Jeremiah, in great excitement. "I could make everything right – everything – everything…" His voice trailed off into a whimper.

      "Why don't I give it to you?" said Captain Ablewhite, very calmly. "Because I am beginning to lose my opinion of you. Let me tell you, though: you may justify it yet if you are not thoroughly white-livered."

      "I will, I will!" exclaimed Jeremiah. "Only give me the tip – give me the tip!"

      "Not if I know it. This little affair I will keep to myself, and I'll sweep the market. You've let too many good things slip by this week. Come, now, confess: if you had stuck to your 'system,' how much would you have won? Don't put me off. You've gone all through it, and you know the figures to the fraction of a shilling."

      Jeremiah struck his forehead with his hand. "I should have won seven thousand pounds."

      "Exactly. And you did not win it because you weren't game, and because you allowed yourself to be led away. What is the good of a man unless he has the courage of his opinions? Before midnight I'm going to try you; I'm going to see whether you're worth trying to save (because you are in a frightful hole, you know, and there's no telling what will happen to you if you continue to show the white feather), or whether I shall let you go to the dogs. It depends upon me, old chap. Oppose me, show ingratitude, try to prove that you're cleverer than I am, and the odds are that you will have seven years – not less – perhaps fourteen. Oh, you are clever, you are! Make no mistake, you are clever; but you want nerve! Why, if you had been open with me – if you had told me honestly what your system was – we might both have made fortunes. But that's neither here nor there. Things are as they are, aren't they?"

      "Yes, they are," sighed Jeremiah.

      "Shall I go on?"

      "Yes."

      "Well, then. You brought down two thousand pounds with you, and you blued it. Eh?"

      "Yes."

      "I don't ask you where you got the money from. It is no business of mine, and I will have nothing to do with it. I have my ideas, but I'll keep them to myself. Having lost your two thousand pounds, you get me to introduce you to a book-maker, who took your bets in the expectation of paying you if you won, and receiving from you if you lost. And you did business with him in a false name."

      "I didn't get you," protested Jeremiah; "you offered to introduce me; and it was at your suggestion I used the name of Farebrother."

      Captain Ablewhite rose and said, "Good-morning."

      "No, no," cried Jeremiah, piteously; "don't desert me!"

      "Did I introduce you, or did you ask me to introduce you?" demanded Captain Ablewhite.

      "I asked you – I asked you!" whined Jeremiah.

      "And did you use Farebrother's name upon my suggestion? Be careful, old chap."

      "At my own suggestion," faltered Jeremiah.

      "Good," said Captain Ablewhite, resuming his seat. "You made bets with him, and you are in his books over three thousand pounds. Is that correct?"

      "Yes."

      "I have I O U's for another two thousand pounds. Is that correct?"

      "Yes."

      "It is a satisfaction. You hold acceptances of mine for close on that amount, and the entire amount of cash I have received from you is about one-fourth of that amount."

      "Business is business," groaned Jeremiah.

      "All right. I didn't complain, and I don't. You and I are pretty well squared on that account. Taking it altogether, you have lost this week some seven thousand pounds, when you might have won as much."

      "Oh, Lord!" gasped Jeremiah.

      "You may clasp your head till you're blue in the face, and that won't get you out of the hole. Do you want to get out of it?"

      "Yes; of course I do."

      "Then," said Captain Ablewhite, enigmatically, "take the 1.33 train to London. You will get there at five o'clock. Have a bath and a sensible dinner, and meet me outside the Langham Hotel, on the opposite side of the road, at nine o'clock to-night. It may be in my power to save you. No words. If you do not obey me I have done with you. Yes or no?"

      "Yes," said Jeremiah.

      CHAPTER II

      THE DIAMOND BRACELET

      This was to be a night of surprising adventure to Jeremiah. He was punctual to time. As the church clock struck the hour of nine he arrived at the Langham Hotel, and in accordance with Captain Ablewhite's instructions, waited on the opposite side of the road. There was no moon, and he paced the flag-stones in shadow. A quarter past nine, half-past, three-quarters past, then the chiming of ten o'clock, and still no Captain. Jeremiah was in a bewilderment of agonized suspense; he was on the brink of a precipice, and he relied upon Captain Ablewhite to save him – by what means he knew not, but he depended upon the Captain's word. "He is detained," thought Jeremiah; "the train is late; he is not a punctual man; perhaps he said ten o'clock instead of nine. At all events, I'll wait for him." The minutes sped on; a quarter past ten, half past, three-quarters past, and now another hour had passed. It was eleven o'clock, and Jeremiah, worked up into a state of terrible excitement, continued to pace up and down, up and down. Two or three times a policeman, attracted by his monotonous movements,