Читать книгу The Secret of the Earth - Charles Willing Beale, Charles Willing Beale - Страница 7

The next morning I awoke early, and resolved to go at once to Torrence's room and ask him to lend me a five pound note. It was my intention to have it examined by a banker in the city for its genuineness, hoping to relieve the anxiety which had so tortured me during the night. While my judgment was opposed to the counterfeiting theory as improbable, yet it was difficult to overcome the thought that it might be the correct one. The truth is, I was impelled to discover some plausible explanation of the mystery. I could not rest as the recipient of means which had no visible source, and especially when there appeared to be so much ground for doubting their legitimacy.

Torrence was already up, preparing for an early start, as I sauntered into his room.

"By the by, old fellow," I said, "have you a fiver about you? I think I might use one to advantage until I can get down to the bank with your check."

He took a roll of bills out of his pocket, and instead of one five, tossed me a couple of tens.

"Let it go for luck!" he called, as he hurriedly left the room on the way to his business.

We rarely breakfasted together, Torry being so full of enthusiasm about his work, that he would brook no chance of delay, and so it was understood that we should not meet until after his return from Gravesend. On this occasion, when he had left me, and after breakfasting alone, I ordered the carriage, and drove into the city. Taking my check at once to the banker upon whom it was drawn, I inquired if it were all right. The cashier smiled, and simply asked how I would have it. I told him I did not want it at all, but wished to place it to my credit.

"Oh!" said the man looking up, "I thought you were Mr. Attlebridge."

"So I am," I answered, "but not Torrence. I am his twin brother. We look very much alike."

"I see!" he exclaimed, somewhat surprised. He then proceeded to take my signature, and give me a book with credit on it for a thousand pounds. There was no mistake about this. Here was an actual transfer of credit from Torrence to myself. I wanted to ask the man some questions about the amount Torrence held in the bank, but hesitated, fearing it might create a suspicion that I doubted his methods. Presently, while still chatting in a careless way, I took out one of the tens my brother had given me, and asked if it were all right, pretending to have received it at a place I was not quite sure of. The man looked at it carefully, and pronounced it perfectly good, and my doubts were relieved. I was about to say "good-morning," when the teller observed:

"We should be greatly pleased, Mr. Attlebridge, if you and your brother would keep your principal account with us, believing that we can offer special facilities, and – "

It was what I wanted. He had opened the subject.

"Oh!" I interrupted, "can you tell me which is my brother's principal banking house at present?"

"Unfortunately," answered the man, "he has not favored us with the name; although I believe it is one of the larger houses in the city. Mr. Attlebridge's deposits with us are all made through an American firm."

I was about to express surprise, but remembered myself in time, so merely smiled and tried to look as if I had known as much before.

"And why do you suppose that my brother keeps another account in London?" I asked.

"Oh!" said the man, shrugging his shoulders, "merely because I once heard him mentioned as the purchaser of a very large foreign draft from one of our city houses. Nothing else, I assure you."

"And you do not remember the name of the concern?" I asked, growing interested.

"No," answered the teller, "I do not. It is even quite possible that I never heard it. The remark was only one of those incidental scraps of conversation that referred more particularly to business in general, than to that of any special banker."

I had heard enough to give me a clew, although I confess, a slight one. Torrence evidently had business with another bank, and also had funds in America of which I had never heard, and could not understand. A thought had flashed upon me. I would go into the different banking streets and find out where this other account was kept, if possible, by passing myself off for my brother. Doubtless I should be taken for him as soon as I entered the right establishment, as I had been here. Bidding the teller "good-day," I passed out, fully bent upon my new enterprise. It was a bold scheme, but I was growing desperate to know something about Torry's affairs; moreover, I was conscious of greater independence with a credit of a thousand pounds in my pocket and a bank book, which I pressed against my finger from time to time when needing encouragement.

As luck would have it, the first place I entered was the right one, and as I had surmised, the clerks recognized me at once as Torrence. I had made up my mind how to act, and what to say while walking along the street, having dismissed the carriage as unnecessary, and was fully prepared on finding myself addressed as Mr. Attlebridge.

"By the by," I began quite carelessly. "What was that last – er – that last – "

I purposely halted to give the teller a chance to help me out. This he did, but I was utterly unprepared for the word. I expected to hear deposit, or check, but when the man came to my assistance with the word cable, I was dumfounded. Was Torrence trying to hang himself? However, my common sense returned, and I replied as if suddenly recalling my errand:

"Oh, yes, that was it. Will you let me see it again please, if you have a copy of it?"

I had not the slightest idea what the cablegram was about, but knew that copies of important messages were always preserved, and thought I might as well see this one. In a minute a clerk appeared with the copy in question, and the teller glancing at it for a second to make sure it was the right one, passed it over for my inspection, and I read as follows.

"LONDON, December – , 1894.

"To DEADWOOD AND BATES, BANKERS, New York City.

"Place to the credit of Torrence Attlebridge sixty three thousand eight hundred and forty pounds sterling, and charge same to our account.

"WHITEHOUSE, MORSE & PLUNKET."

I almost choked with astonishment. Here was a single deposit of considerably more than three hundred thousand dollars. No wonder he could so easily afford to give me the check for a thousand pounds. I was provoked that I had not asked for ten times as much. But where did all this money come from in the first instance? I continued to look at the message in amazement, not knowing what to say; and then pulling myself together, remarked, still as if trying to refresh my memory:

"And let me see – I gave you for this, a draft on – "

"You forget, Mr. Attlebridge," promptly responded the man, "you merely drew upon your credit with us, reducing your account to that extent!"

"So I did," I answered, apparently quite satisfied. "My memory is so fearfully faulty sometimes, I not only forget amounts, but the manner of payment." Then remembering that Torrence had no doubt a further balance here, I thought I would make another effort to discover what it was before leaving. The question was not nearly so difficult as the others.

"By the by, be kind enough to tell me what my balance is to-day, here with you."

The big books were turned over, and in a minute I was informed that my brother had still more than one hundred thousand pounds with these people, Whitehouse, Morse & Plunket. I was astounded. Instead of solving a mystery I had only sunk deeper in the mire. Here was a credit that was practically boundless. A bank account worthy of a king. I could not show my amazement, and so for a minute turned my back, trying to collect my thoughts. Could I leave the place without one more question? I resolved to risk it, and so added:

"Sorry to trouble you again, but be good enough to tell me how my last deposit with you was made."

"By a large batch of your own drafts, Mr. Attlebridge, on prominent bankers in Paris, Berlin, Vienna, St. Petersburg, Constantinople, Munich, Rome, Naples, New York, Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia and San Francisco, besides others. We have a list of the bankers here if you would like to see it; and, by the by, I forgot to mention that several of the drafts were upon London houses, which you doubtless remember. Beyond this you have not forgotten that several thousand pounds were paid to us in cash!"

"True!" I said, and turning hurriedly, left the place, only too glad to get away. Evidently my brother's drafts had all been honored, or the balance would not be to his credit.

I wandered down the street like one in a dream. I could see no earthly chance of ever solving this problem, except through Torrence himself; but I could not ask him, and if I did, had no reason to expect an answer. No, I must wait for further developments. Something was sure to turn up. To my certain knowledge, then, my brother had nearly a million dollars to his credit in New York and London, and from what I had heard it seemed probable that he had much more elsewhere.