Читать книгу King of The Rocks - Ambrose Pratt - Страница 3

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JOHN STANDISH, R.N.R., captain of the finest liner, and commodore of the fleet owned by the largest steamship company trading in the Southern Hemisphere, was seated one morning in his private room at the Grosvenor, Sydney, an hotel where he was always to be found during the few days his steamer stayed in that port. A knock came to his door; an obsequious waiter entered.

"A gentleman, name o' Cap'n Jackson, wants to see you, Cap'n; particular, he says," and the waiter waited as if he expected gold to drop from the other's lips.

"Jackson, Jackson! Don't know the name. Who is he, waiter?"

Captain Standish, a stout, full-blooded Englishman, spoke habitually in a strong voice and somewhat jerky manner.

"Dunno, Cap'n, he looks like a sailor; he says you know him."

"Haw, I don't remember. However, show him up!"

"Yessir," and the waiter vanished.

John Standish exercised his memory during the next few minutes, and at last decided that his visitor was to resolve into "some demned pilot or coastal skipper. Like those fellows' cheek to call themselves 'Captains,' by Gad!"

Then came a second knock, and "Cap'n Jackson," said the waiter, who ushered in the visitor, slammed the door, and disappeared in the twinkling of an eye.

"Haw, how d'ye do? What can I do for you?" said Captain Standish, searching as he spoke with both hands in his vest pockets for his pince-nez, being slightly disconcerted by his visitor's abrupt announcement.

"Don't you remember me, John Standish?"

Something in the other's voice made the captain forsake his search for the glasses and stare at his companion with quick interest—an interest which, as he stared, changed from curiosity to anger, if his features could be trusted to convey his feelings. He saw before him a tall, thin man, grey-haired, but young and active-looking still—a man whose face exhibited the strength of a Caesar, the wickedness and cunning of a Borgia.

"Manville?" cried presently Captain Standish.

"I congratulate you."

"What do you want?"

"I heard you were in Sydney, so I came to see you.''

"Why did you call yourself 'Jackson'?"

"A ruse de guerre, my friend. I fancied you might not be expiring with anxiety to see me again."

"You thought rightly."

"I commence to flatter myself I possess some penetration."

"Again I say, what do you want with me?"

"A slight service."

"Not another penny shall I give you. You swore to be content with the last."

"Bah! that was years ago; but I don't want money."

"What, then?" the captain's voice proclaimed a vague concern.

"A favour you can grant with perfect ease."

"Name it, name it!" impatiently.

"Your head steward died on the voyage out?"

"Yes."

"I am an excellent waiter, John Standish."

"Bosh, man; you a servant!"

"Why not?"

"Captain Manville, R.N., once; now a ship's steward," sneered Captain Standish.

"And merchant service at that, my friend; but you need not remind me. There are some things a man does not forget."

"Well, well, you don't ask anything impossible. Be at the Company's office this afternoon, three sharp. And now, good morning."

"Your pardon, John Standish."

"What the devil more do you want?"

"Your under-stewards and cook's assistants, to the number of four men, deserted ship last night, and are now on their way to the Nundle gold rush. I won't say that I had nothing to do with the affair. They were very soft, and absolutely believed me when I told them that they had only to go there and pick up nuggets as big as their heads. I took care, too, to keep them very drunk until their train started."

"You scoundrel. But you've given yourself away. I shall telegraph for the police to arrest them when the train arrives."

Captain Standish rose to ring the bell, but hesitated on hearing his companion laugh.

"John Standish," said Manville deliberately, "you're a fool. Do you think I intended you to have these poor beggars arrested?"

The captain spluttered with anger. "Damme, sir, I'd like to know what you mean."

"Certainly, certainly, and so you shall. I have four intimate friends who are either cooks or waiters, and they all need billets very badly. I have promised these men to procure them berths upon the Alemene."

"The devil you have!" thundered the captain.

Manville suddenly looked at his watch, then sprang to his feet with all his manner altered. Formerly he had worn an air of half-cynical, half-humorous impertinence, now he spoke abruptly, and as one used to command.

"See here, John Standish. I have no time to waste, so I'll be quite candid for once in my life, and for your own sake you'd better attend to me. I have drawn up a full account on oath of a certain matter wherein you figure as the abominable hero, my friend, and this I have despatched by registered package to a friend of mine at Scotland Yard. In my letter of instructions to this friend I have directed him to open the package and use the contents as he pleases, if, after the lapse of six weeks, I do not personally demand it back from him or cable him to return it to me. Need I tell you, John Standish, what will happen if my friend be allowed to open that package?"

"Curse you!" said the captain, but his face grew sickly pale.

Manville smiled.

"I may take it that my cooks and stewards will receive employment, then?"

"Cooks, stewards, cooks! Do you intend to poison us all, or what?"

Manville laughed outright at the other's troubled looks.

"My poor friend," he said smoothly, "nothing so bad as that. Tell me, is it not true that the banks here are shipping large quantities of gold by you this trip to London?"

John Standish started back with a suspicious look, and fixed the other with his eye.

"Yes," he said, "gold specie worth a million."

"Precisely; well, I might inform you that during the last few years I have grown respectable. From a thief I have developed into a thief-catcher, and I am now a member of the West Australian Secret Police. A gang of five men have just booked passages in your steamer for London—two in the first saloon, three in the second. These gentry are known to the police as being the most successful and daring cracksmen and spielers in the world; they have lately pulled off a big coup in West Australia, but we have not yet sufficient evidence to arrest them on. I have followed them from Perth, and hold instructions to follow them if necessary to London. You might be interested to learn that these villains have arranged a plan to rob your steamer of the gold to be shipped on board by the banks we were speaking of just now. This I only learned lately in Sydney, for one of my men wormed his way partly into the rascals' confidence."

"Good God!" said Captain Standish.

"My object," pursued Manville calmly, "in enlisting your kind assistance to ship myself and my brother police on board your steamer in a menial capacity is to avoid arousing the suspicions of the gang. If we shipped as passengers they would spot us the first day; they are as cunning as rats, but cooks and stewards they would never suspect."

"Would you mind proving your words to me, and show me your credentials?" said Captain Standish, with as crafty a look as his frank face could exhibit.

Manville took from his breast a badge surmounted with a silver crown, also an unfastened letter directed to "Inspector-General Fosberry, Chief of New South Wales Police." The letter was of introduction, and presented Detective Manville, of the West Australian Police, to Inspector-General Fosberry, of Sydney, and explained, besides, the bearer's mission to New South Wales. It was stamped with the Government coat-of-arms, and signed by "Farley, Chief of the Secret Police of West Australia."

Captain Standish handed the letter and the badge back to his companion with a sigh of relief.

"You have not presented this letter of introduction?" he asked.

"It was not necessary until I had received a cable to arrest my game. That cable has not yet arrived."

"Why didn't you tell me all this at first instead of threatening me to your wishes. I would have been glad to assist you."

Manville smiled curiously.

"This business means a great deal to me," he said; "I can't afford to throw any chances away. If I am successful I get a big money reward and promotion; and I am engaged to be married to the prettiest girl in Perth. You understand?"

Captain Standish understood; he became quite hearty in his manner.

"I congratulate you, my boy, both on your turning respectable and—er—the girl."

"Thanks," drily.

"But, ah, by Gad, I hope you really know something of your business? Chief steward has a lot to do, you know."

"You may depend upon me."

"By-the-bye, I suppose I'd better telegraph to our agent at Albany to secure a man to replace you in case you leave us there."

"As you please, Captain; but for goodness' sake don't engage one. I may have to go on to London with you, you know."

"Ha, ha, ha! what a joke it will all be afterwards!"

"Won't it? Good-bye for the present, Captain Standish."

"Good-bye, Manville; take care of yourself."

"One moment," said Manville impressively. "I can depend upon you to mention no word of what I have told you to anyone, your officers or your agents especially. You see, I want to pull off this coup and get the entire credit myself. It means a big thing to me, and one word let slip might ruin everything."

"I won't breathe a word," said the big captain good-naturedly. "Don't be later than three, and bring your friends, the new—ahem—cooks, along."

"Right!"