The Scarlet Bat. Fergus Hume

       Fergus Hume

      The Scarlet Bat

      A Detective Story

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066231804

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Titlepage

       Text

       CHAPTER I

      SOWING THE WIND

      "I say you're a bad lot!"

      "And I reply that you're a liar!"

      "Take that!"

      "Here's the repayment!"

      The man who had spoken first went down like a log. He was a red-headed creature, with a rasping voice and an aggressive manner, evidently one of those who bullied his way through the world, for want of a bold spirit to stand up to him. In this instance he found his match, for the handsome face of the young fellow he insulted was sternly set and considerably flushed. After the war of words came the blow from the bully. His fist passed harmlessly by the head of this antagonist, and a well-delivered return blow caught him fairly on the jaw. Then red-head lay down to consider the lesson he had been taught.

      "You confounded scoundrel!" said the other, standing over him. "You may be thankful that I don't wring your neck. You're no good in the world that I can see, and would be better out of it."

      "Guess you'd like to send him on the journey into Kingdom Come?" suggested a weather-beaten little man near at hand, who looked like a sailor.

      "I just would," said the young man, panting. "What does the ruffian mean by making me a target for his brutal wit? He'd leave the world fast enough if I had my way. Lie still!"

      This to red-head, who was rising. But the prostrate man did not obey the injunction, having some fight left in him yet. He scrambled to his feet, and rushed with a lowered head at his enemy like a bull. But the other was ready. He skipped aside, and the red-head met the wood of the counter with a sickening thud. This time he dropped insensible. The sailor man knelt beside the defeated. "I guess you'd better skip, Lancaster," said he. "You've done it this time. An' the police are coming."

      It was not the police, but the attendants, who forced their way through the crowd in the bar. Seeing this, Lancaster's friend, by name Dicky Baird, and by profession an idler of the West End, seized his chum's arm and dragged him out of the bar by main force.

      "No use waiting for a summons," said Dicky, when the two were in the vestibule. "I think you'd better get home, Frank."

      The other stared at a poster which announced that a new musical comedy would be produced that night at the Piccadilly Theatre, with Miss Fanny Tait in the chief part.

      "I'm not going till I see her," he said, pointing to this name.

      "What, Fairy Fan? Why, all the row was about her."

      "Because he abused the woman. She's a good sort, and I like her very much. You know I do, but there's no love."

      "Not on your part, perhaps, but Starth loves her, and you knocked him down."

      "I wish I'd killed him," said Lancaster, between his teeth.

      "Don't talk rashly, Frank," said the other, with uneasiness. "If anything goes wrong with Starth you'll get into trouble."

      "Malice aforethought," said Lancaster, carelessly. "Pshaw The man isn't hurt. He'll be up and swearing before the play begins."

      It seemed that he was right, for a tall, bulky dark man approached with a smile. "Starth's all right," said he, with a nod. "You've swelled his eye a bit, Frank, but that's all. Berry's going to put him into a hansom. And now we'd better get to our seats."

      The others assented, and the trio moved into the theatre. As they passed down the steps leading to the stalls, they caught a glimpse of Captain Berry conducting a swaying figure to the door.

      "How did the row begin?" asked Dicky, when they were seated.

      "Starth said I didn't know who my father was," said Frank.

      "Well, you don't, do you?"

      "That's neither here nor there. Starth has nothing to do with my domestic business."

      "H'm!" said Baird to himself, thoughtfully.

      Frank Lancaster was a dark horse, and although Dicky had known him for some years, he was not aware of his private history. Lancaster kept that to himself, and seemed unnecessarily annoyed by the question of Baird. Dicky could see nothing in Starth's remark which should lead to a free fight, though to be sure Fairy Fan's name had likewise been mentioned. However, Frank seemed indisposed to speak, and like a wise man Baird held his usually too-free tongue.

      Miss Tait, commonly known as Fairy Fan, was a popular music-hall star, who danced gracefully and sang sweetly. For a salary largely in excess of her merits, she had deserted the halls for the theatre, and to-night was her first appearance in "The Seaside Girl." Hence the large audience and the subdued excitement. At the present moment she was dancing like a fay and singing like a lark, but the three men nevertheless talked all the time.

      "Jolly little thing, ain't she?" said Dicky. "She comes from the Californian Slopes."

      "Did she pick up those diamonds there?" asked the dark man, who was a Rhodesian called Darrel, and acquainted with stones of price.

      "No. Banjo Berry, who is her uncle, gave them to her. He's a rich man, and lavishes his money on his niece."

      "Why does he let her appear on the boards, then?" asked Darrel, heavily.

      "Ask Frank, here. He's a friend of Berry's."

      "I'm not," growled Lancaster, still ruffled by his late encounter. "I can't bear the creature. His niece is worth a dozen of him."

      "Is she his niece?" questioned the Rhodesian millionaire.

      "Yes. There's no doubt about that. I respect Miss Berry immensely."

      "I thought her name was Tait."

      "On the bills. In private she's Miss Fanny Berry. Her uncle is rich, but, in spite of that, she's so vain that she likes to appear on the stage. I like her, and--"

      "You're in love with her," contradicted Baird.

      "A trifle. Anyone would love such a pretty woman. But I wouldn't ask her to marry me."

      "No, Starth will do that."

      "She won't have him," said Frank, snappishly. "He's a bad lot."

      "A very sore lot at present," put in Baird, smiling.

      "It's his own fault," replied Lancaster. "Why can't he leave me alone. It's not the first time he's quarrelled with me."

      "Because he knows you are a rival in the affections of Fairy Fan."

      "Rubbish, Dicky! Don't get that bee in your bonnet. Starth can marry her for