The Complete Works of Arthur Morrison (Illustrated). Arthur Morrison

I got hold of one of the boat’s crew that fetched the skipper ashore, and questioned him quietly — pumped him, you know — and he assures me that the skipper did have a rather small, heavy sort of parcel with him. What do you think of that? Of course, in the circumstances, the man couldn’t remember any very distinct particulars, but he thought it was a sort of square wooden case about the size I’ve mentioned. But there’s something more.” Brasyer lifted his forefinger and then brought it down on the table before him — “something more. I’ve made inquiries at the railway station and I find that two heavy parcels were sent off yesterday to London — deal boxes wrapped in brown paper, of just about the right size. And the paper got torn before the things were sent off, and the clerk could see that the boxes inside were fastened with hoop-iron — like those! “and the second officer pointed triumphantly to the boxes piled at one side of the cabin.

      “Well done! “said Hewitt. “You’re quite a smart detective. Did you find out who brought the parcels, and who they were addressed to?”

      “No, I couldn’t get quite as far as that. Of course the clerk didn’t know the names of the senders, and not knowing me, wouldn’t tell me exactly where the parcels were going. But I got quite chummy with him after a bit, and I’m going to meet him presently — he has the afternoon off, and we’re going for a stroll. I’ll find something more, I’ll bet you! ”

      “Certainly,” replied Hewitt, “find all you can — it may be very important. If you get any valuable information you’ll let us know at once, of course. Anything else, now?”

      “No, I don’t think so; but I think what I’ve told you is pretty well enough for the present, eh? I’ll let you know some more soon.”

      Brasyer went, and Norton, the steward of the old ship, was brought into the cabin. He was a sharp-eyed, rather cadaverous-looking man, and he spoke with sepulchral hollowness. He had heard, he said, that there was something wrong with the chests of bullion, and came on board to give any information he could. It wasn’t much, he went on to say, but the smallest thing might help. If he might speak strictly confidentially he would suggest that observation be kept on Wickens, the carpenter. He (Norton) didn’t want to be uncharitable, but his pantry happened to be next the bullion-room, and he had heard Wickens at work for a very long time just below — on the under side of the floor of the bullion-room, it seemed to him, although, of course, he might have been mistaken. Still, it was very odd that the carpenter always seemed to have a job just at that spot. More, it had been said — and he (Norton) believed it to be true — that Wickens, the carpenter, had in his possession, and kept among his stores, keys that fitted the padlocks on the bullion-room door. That, it seemed to him, was a very suspicious circumstance. He didn’t know anything more definite, but offered his ideas for what they were worth, and if his suspicions proved unfounded nobody would be more pleased than himself. But — but — and the steward shook his head doubtfully.

      “Thank you, Mr. Norton,” said Merrick, with a twinkle in his eye; “we won’t forget what you say. Of course, if the stuff is found in consequence of any of your information, you won’t lose by it.”

      The steward said he hoped not, and he wouldn’t fail to keep his eye on the carpenter. He had noticed Wickens was in the tug, and he trusted that if they were going to question him they would do it cautiously, so as not to put him on his guard. Merrick promised they would.

      “By the bye, Mr. Norton,” asked Hewitt, “supposing your suspicions to be justified, what do you suppose the carpenter would do with the bullion?”

      “Well, sir,” replied Norton, “I don’t think he’d keep it on the ship. He’d probably dump it somewhere.”

      The steward left, and Merrick lay back in his chair and guffawed aloud. “This grows farcical,” he said, “simply farcical. What a happy family they must have been aboard the Nicobar! And now here’s the captain watching the second officer, and the second officer watching the captain and the steward, and the steward watching the carpenter! It’s immense. And now we’re going to see the carpenter. Wonder whom he suspects?”

      Hewitt said nothing, but his eyes twinkled with intense merriment, and presently the carpenter was brought into the cabin.

      “Good-day to you, gentlemen,” said the carpenter in a soft and deferential voice, looking from one to the other. “Might I ‘ave the honour of addressin’ the salvage gentlemen?”

      “That’s right,” Merrick answered, motioning him to a seat. “This is the salvage shop, Mr. Wickens. What can we do for you?”

      The carpenter coughed gently behind his hand. “I took the liberty of comin’, gentlemen, consekins o’ ‘earin’ as there was some bullion missin’. P’raps I’m wrong.”

      “Not at all. We haven’t found as much as we expected, and I suppose by this time nearly everybody knows it. There are two cases wanting. You can’t tell us where they are, I suppose?”

      “Well, sir, as to that — no. I fear I can’t exactly go as far as that. But if I am able to give vallable information as may lead to recovery of same, I presoom I may without offence look for some reasonable small recognition of my services? ”

      “Oh, yes,” answered Merrick, “that’ll be all right, I promise you. The company will do the handsome thing, of course, and no doubt so will the underwriters.”

      “Presoomin’ I may take that as a promise — among gentlemen “— this with an emphasis — “I’m willing to tell something.”

      “It’s a promise, at any rate as far as the company’s concerned,” returned Merrick. “I’ll see it’s made worth your while — of course, providing it leads to anything.”

      “Purvidin’ that, sir, o’ course. Well, gentlemen, my story ain’t a long one. All I’ve to say was what I ‘card on board, just before she went down. The passengers was off, and the crew was gettin’ into the other boats when the skipper turns to the steward an’ speaks to him quiet-like, not observin’, gentlemen, as I was agin ‘is elbow, so for to say. ‘ ‘Ere, Norton,’ ‘e sez, or words to that effeck, ‘ why shouldn’t we try gettin’ them things ashore with us — you know, the cases — eh? I’ve a notion we’re pretty close inshore,’ ‘e sez, ‘ and there’s nothink of a sea now. You take one, anyway, and I’ll try the other,’ ‘e says, ‘ but don’t make a flourish.’ Then he sez, louder, ‘cos o’ the steward goin’ off, ‘ They’re the likeliest stuff, and at worst we can but drop ’em. But look sharp,’ ‘e says. So then I gets into the nearest boat, and that’s all I ‘eard.”

      “That was all?” asked Hewitt, watching the man’s face sharply.

      “All?” the carpenter answered with some surprise. “Yes, that was all; but I think it’s pretty well enough, don’t you? It’s plain enough what was meant — him and the steward was to take two cases, one apiece, on the quiet, and they was the likeliest stuff aboard, as he said himself. And now there’s two cases o’ bullion missin’. Ain’t that enough?”

      The carpenter was not satisfied till an exact note had been made of the captain’s words. Then after Merrick’s promise on behalf of the company had been renewed, Wickens took himself off.

      “Well,” said Merrick, grinning across the table at Hewitt, “this is a queer go, isn’t it? What that man says makes the skipper’s case look pretty fishy, doesn’t it? What he says, and what Brasyer says, taken together, makes a pretty strong case — I should say makes the thing a certainty. But what a business! It’s likely to be a bit serious for some one, but it’s a rare joke in a way. Wonder if Brasyer will find out anything more? Pity the skipper and steward didn’t agree as to whom they should pretend to suspect. That’s a mistake on their part.”

      “Not at all,” Hewitt replied. “If they are conspiring, and know what they’re about, they will avoid seeming to be both in a tale. The bullion is in bars, I understand?”

      “Yes, five bars in each case; weight, I believe,