ROBERT BARR Ultimate Collection: 20 Novels & 65+ Detective Stories. Robert Barr

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СКАЧАТЬ him to be shadowed and run to earth. I may also add that the ex-prisoner volunteered no particulars about himself or his family. Only once on board ship did he attempt to obtain some information from me as we walked up and down the deck together.

      'You are acting for someone else, I suppose?' he said.

      'Yes.'

      'For someone in England?'

      'Yes.'

      'He put up the money, did he?'

      'Yes.'

      There was a pause, during which we took two or three turns in silence.

      'Of course, there's no secret about it,' he said at last. 'I expected help from the other side, but Colonel Jim has been so mighty long about it, I was afraid he'd forgotten me.'

      'Who is Colonel Jim?'

      'Colonel Jim Baxter. Wasn't it him gave you the money?'

      'I never heard of the man before.'

      'Then who put up the coin?'

      'Douglas Sanderson,' I replied, looking at him sidewise as I mentioned the name. It had apparently no effect upon him. He wrinkled his brow for a moment, then said:—

      'Well, if you never heard of Baxter, I never heard of Sanderson.'

      This led me to suspect that Douglas Sanderson did not give me his own name, and doubtless the address with which he had furnished me was merely temporary. I did not cable to him from America regarding the success of the expedition, because I could not be certain it was a success until I was safely on English ground, and not even then, to tell the truth. Anyhow, I wished to leave no trail behind me, but the moment the Arontic reached Liverpool, I telegraphed Sanderson to meet us that evening at my flat.

      He was waiting for me when Wyoming Ed and I entered together. The old man was quite evidently in a state of nervous tension. He had been walking up and down the room with hands clenched behind his back, and now stood at the end farthest from the door as he heard us approach, with his hands still clasped behind his back, and an expression of deep anxiety upon his rugged face. All the electric lamps were turned on, and the room was bright as day.

      'Have you not brought him with you?' he cried.

      'Brought him with me?' I echoed. 'Here is Wyoming Ed!'

      The old man glared at him for a moment or two stupefied, then moaned:—

      'Oh, my God, my God, that is not the man!'

      I turned to my short-haired fellow traveller.

      'You told me you were Wyoming Ed!'

      He laughed uneasily.

      'Well, in a manner of speaking, so I have been for the last five years, but I wasn't Wyoming Ed before that. Say, old man, are you acting for Colonel Jim Baxter?'

      Sanderson, on whom a dozen years seemed to have fallen since we entered the room, appeared unable to speak, and merely shook his head in a hopeless sort of way.

      'I say, boys,' ejaculated the ex-convict, with an uneasy laugh, half-comic, half-bewildered, 'this is a sort of mix-up, isn't it? I wish Colonel Jim was here to explain. I say, Boss,' he cried suddenly, turning sharp on me, 'this here misfit's not my fault. I didn't change the children in the cradle. You don't intend to send me back to that hell-hole, do you?'

      'No,' I said, 'not if you tell the truth. Sit down.'

      The late prisoner seated himself in a chair as close to the door as possible, hitching a little nearer as he sat down. His face had taken on a sharp, crafty aspect like that of a trapped rat.

      'You are perfectly safe,' I assured him. 'Sit over here by the table. Even if you bolted through that door, you couldn't get out of this flat. Mr. Sanderson, take a chair.'

      The old man sank despondently into the one nearest at hand. I pressed a button, and when my servant entered, I said to him:—

      'Bring some Cognac and Scotch whisky, glasses, and two syphons of soda.'

      'You haven't got any Kentucky or Canadian?' asked the prisoner, moistening his lips. The jail whiteness in his face was now accentuated by the pallor of fear, and the haunted look of the escaped convict glimmered from his eyes. In spite of the comfort I had attempted to bestow upon him, he knew that he had been rescued in mistake for another, and for the first time since he left prison realised he was among strangers, and not among friends. In his trouble he turned to the beverage of his native continent.

      'Bring a bottle of Canadian whisky,' I said to the servant, who disappeared, and shortly returned with what I had ordered. I locked the door after him, and put the key in my pocket.

      'What am I to call you?' I asked the ex-convict.

      With a forced laugh he said; 'You can call me Jack for short.'

      'Very well, Jack, help yourself,' and he poured out a very liberal glass of the Dominion liquor, refusing to dilute it with soda. Sanderson took Scotch, and I helped myself to a petit verre of brandy.

      'Now, Jack,' I began, 'I may tell you plainly that if I wished to send you back to prison, I could not do so without incriminating myself. You are legally dead, and you have now a chance to begin life anew, an opportunity of which I hope you will take advantage. If you were to apply three weeks from today at the prison doors, they would not dare admit you. You are dead. Does that console you?'

      'Well, squire, you can bet your bottom dollar I never thought I'd be pleased to hear I was dead, but I'm glad if it's all fixed as you say, and you can bet your last pair of boots I'm going to keep out of the jug in future if I can.'

      'That's right. Now, I can promise that if you answer all my questions truthfully, you shall be given money enough to afford you a new beginning in life.'

      'Good enough,' said Jack briefly.

      'You were known in prison as Wyoming Ed?'

      'Yes, sir.'

      'If that was not your name, why did you use it?'

      'Because Colonel Jim, on the train, asked me to do that. He said it would give him a pull in England to get me free.'

      'Did you know Wyoming Ed?'

      'Yes, sir, he was one of us three that held up the train.'

      'What became of him?'

      'He was shot dead.'

      'By one of the passengers?'

      There was silence, during which the old man groaned, and bowed his head. Jack was studying the floor. Then he looked up at me and said:—

      'You don't expect me to give a pal away, do you?'

      'As that pal has given you away for the last five years, it seems to me you need not show very much consideration for him.'

      'I'm not so sure he did.'

      'I am; but СКАЧАТЬ