Out of the Dark: Tales of Terror by Robert W. Chambers. Robert W. Chambers

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СКАЧАТЬ and myself, the car was empty. Barris, trim, stout, ruddy, and bronzed, sat drumming on the window ledge, puffing a short fragrant pipe. His gun case lay beside him on the floor.

      ‘When I have white hair and years of discretion,’ said Pierpont languidly, ‘I’ll not flirt with pretty serving maids; will you, Roy?’

      ‘No,’ said I, looking at Barris.

      ‘You mean the maid with the cap in the Pullman car?’ asked Barris.

      ‘Yes,’ said Pierpont.

      I smiled, for I had seen it also.

      Barris twisted his crisp gray moustache, and yawned.

      ‘You children had better be toddling off to bed,’ he said. ‘That lady’s-maid is a member of the Secret Service.’

      ‘Oh,’ said Pierpont, ‘one of your colleagues?’

      ‘You might present us, you know,’ I said; ‘the journey is monotonous.’

      Barris had drawn a telegram from his pocket, and as he sat turning it over and over between his fingers he smiled. After a moment or two he handed it to Pierpont who read it with slightly raised eyebrows.

      ‘It’s rot – I suppose it’s cipher,’ he said. ‘I see it’s signed by General Drummond—’

      ‘Drummond, Chief of the Government Secret Service,’ said Barris.

      ‘Something interesting?’ I enquired, lighting a cigarette.

      ‘Something so interesting,’ replied Barris, ‘that I’m going to look into it myself—’

      ‘And break up our shooting trio—’

      ‘No. Do you want to hear about it? Do you, Billy Pierpont?’

      ‘Yes,’ replied that immaculate young man.

      Barris rubbed the amber mouthpiece of his pipe on his handkerchief, cleared the stem with a bit of wire, puffed once or twice, and leaned back in his chair.

      ‘Pierpont,’ he said, ‘do you remember that evening at the United States Club when General Miles, General Drummond, and I were examining that gold nugget that Captain Mahan had? You examined it also, I believe.’

      ‘I did,’ said Pierpont.

      ‘Was it gold?’ asked Barris, drumming on the window.

      ‘It was,’ replied Pierpont.

      ‘I saw it too,’ said I; ‘of course, it was gold.’

      ‘Professor La Grange saw it also,’ said Barris; ‘he said it was gold.’

      ‘Well?’ said Pierpont.

      ‘Well,’ said Barris, ‘it was not gold.’

      After a silence Pierpont asked what tests had been made.

      ‘The usual tests,’ replied Barris. ‘The United States Mint is satisfied that it is gold, so is every jeweller who has seen it. But it is not gold – and yet – it is gold.’

      Pierpont and I exchanged glances.

      ‘Now,’ said I, ‘for Barris’ usual coup-de-théâtre: what was the nugget?’

      ‘Practically it was pure gold; but,’ said Barris, enjoying the situation intensely, ‘really it was not gold. Pierpont, what is gold?’

      ‘Gold’s an element, a metal—’

      ‘Wrong! Billy Pierpont,’ said Barris coolly.

      ‘Gold was an element when I went to school,’ said I.

      ‘It has not been an element for two weeks,’ said Barris; ‘and, except General Drummond, Professor La Grange, and myself, you two youngsters are the only people, except one, in the world who know it – or have known it.’

      ‘Do you mean to say that gold is a composite metal?’ said Pierpont slowly.

      ‘I do. La Grange has made it. He produced a scale of pure gold day before yesterday. That nugget was manufactured gold.’

      Could Barris be joking? Was this a colossal hoax? I looked at Pierpont. He muttered something about that settling the silver question, and turned his head to Barris, but there was that in Barris’ face which forbade jesting, and Pierpont and I sat silently pondering.

      ‘Don’t ask me how it’s made,’ said Barris, quietly; ‘I don’t know. But I do know that somewhere in the region of the Cardinal Woods there is a gang of people who do know how gold is made, and who make it. You understand the danger this is to every civilized nation. It’s got to be stopped of course. Drummond and I have decided that I am the man to stop it. Wherever and whoever these people are – these gold makers – they must be caught, every one of them – caught or shot.’

      ‘Or shot,’ repeated Pierpont, who was owner of the Cross-Cut Gold Mine and found his income too small; ‘Professor La Grange will of course be prudent – science need not know things that would upset the world!’

      ‘Little Willy,’ said Barris laughing, ‘your income is safe.’

      ‘I suppose,’ said I, ‘some flaw in the nugget gave Professor La Grange the tip.’

      ‘Exactly. He cut the flaw out before sending the nugget to be tested. He worked on the flaw and separated gold into its three elements.’

      ‘He is a great man,’ said Pierpont, ‘but he will be the greatest man in the world if he can keep his discovery to himself.’

      ‘Who?’ said Barris.

      ‘Professor La Grange.’

      ‘Professor La Grange was shot through the heart two hours ago,’ replied Barris slowly.

      II

      We had been at the shooting box in the Cardinal Woods five days when a telegram was brought to Barris by a mounted messenger from the nearest telegraph station, Cardinal Springs, a hamlet on the lumber railroad which joins the Quebec and Northern at Three Rivers Junction, thirty miles below.

      Pierpont and I were sitting out under the trees, loading some special shells as experiments; Barris stood beside us, bronzed, erect, holding his pipe carefully so that no sparks should drift into our powder box. The beat of hoofs over the grass aroused us, and when the lank messenger drew bridle before the door, Barris stepped forward and took the sealed telegram. When he had torn it open he went into the house and presently reappeared, reading something that he had written.

      ‘This should go at once,’ he said, looking the messenger full in the face.

      ‘At once, Colonel Barris,’ replied the shabby countryman.

      Pierpont glanced СКАЧАТЬ