Carmen's Messenger Part 42

"Very well. You claim to have doc.u.ments that give you some power over Featherstone; I have others that give me power over you. Have you got yours here?"

Daly smiled. "I have not. They're kept where n.o.body but myself could find them."

"I see," said Foster. "Any money you could extort from Featherstone was to be your private perquisite and not shared with the gang! Well, I've brought my doc.u.ments for you to examine. This is a traveler's circular check for yourself, and this is an ordinary bank check for another man. Taken alone, they don't prove very much, but I'll try to show how they link up with other matters."

He related how Carmen had given him the packet and his adventures in Newcastle, and when he finished Daly nodded.

"On the whole, you don't argue badly."

"I expect a lawyer prosecuting for the Crown would argue it better, particularly if I was ready to go into the witness-box. Then, of course, there's Featherstone's evidence."

For a moment Daly looked alarmed, but recovered his tranquillity without much effort, and Foster saw he had to face his first serious difficulty, though there was another. If Daly knew how little Lawrence could really tell, it would be hard to deal with him.

"Something depends on the importance of Featherstone's evidence."

"Your accomplice thought it important, since he tried to throw him down the elevator shaft," Foster rejoined. "Anyhow, Featherstone saw the man who killed Fred Hulton."

Daly's smile rather disturbed him. "Then it's strange he said nothing about it at the inquiry, and when he was in the factory pa.s.sage spoke to the man he saw as if he was the night guard."

"That's so. You probably know more about the methods of the police than I do, but I understand they now and then keep something back, with an object. Then Featherstone is not a fool. He was satisfied to answer the questions he was asked. You mustn't take it for granted he didn't know the man was a stranger."

There was silence for some moments while Daly pondered this, although Foster imagined he had carefully weighed the thing before. Then he asked abruptly: "Did your partner think he saw me?"

"No," said Foster, who resolved to tell the truth.

Somewhat to his surprise, Daly made a sign of acquiescence. "Very well! You are near the mark, and I'll tell you what happened. There's not much risk in this, because no Judge would admit as evidence something you declared you had been told. Besides, I'll own that it's an unlikely tale. I was not at or near the factory that night, but I had done some business with Fred Hulton. The lad was a gambler and I'd lent him money; as a matter of fact, I never got it all back. However, a man who now and then acted as my agent learned something about the customs of the factory and went there the night he met Featherstone.

But he did not shoot Fred Hulton."

"Then how was the lad killed?"

"He shot himself; in a way, by accident."

Foster looked at Daly with ironical surprise. "Your friends deal too much in accidents! It was by an accident Walters left Featherstone on the snow _couloir_."

"It doesn't matter if you disbelieve me; this is what happened," Daly rejoined. "My friend--we'll call him the man--went to the office late in the evening and after some talk, covered Hulton with his pistol.

The lad had had some trouble about his debts, because the old man would have fired him out of the business if he'd heard of them, and his nerve wasn't good. He opened the safe when he was told and the man took the bonds and went out of the office, leaving Hulton in his chair. We don't know what the lad thought, but perhaps he saw he would be suspected or was ashamed of not showing more grit. Anyhow, when the man was on the stairs Hulton came up behind and told him to stop. He had a pistol, but looked strained and nervous, and the other, who had put his away, made a rush at him. Hulton slipped on the steps, his pistol went off, and when he rolled to the bottom the other saw he was dead."

Foster was silent for a time. The story was, on the whole, plausible, and although he did not see why Daly had told it him, he thought he spoke the truth. So far he had been clearing the ground and had not reached his object yet, but Daly showed no inclination to hurry him.

They were not likely to be disturbed, and although the rocking of the car and throb of wheels indicated that the train was running fast, the next station was some distance ahead. There was moonlight outside and he saw towering rocks and ma.s.ses of dark trees roll past.

"Well," he remarked, "you have had a strange career. Leading a gang of swindlers must have been a change from helping a philanthropist."

Daly smiled rather grimly. "For a long time I served a strange man.

Philanthropy loses its charm when it becomes a business and results are demanded from all the money given. Then my pay was arranged on the surmise that to be engaged in such an occupation was reward enough, and something must be allowed for the natural reaction. As a matter of fact, I'm not surprised that Featherstone robbed my employer. He deserved it; but I think we can let that go."

Foster nodded and was silent. Perhaps it was because the excitement of the chase was over, but he felt dull and tired. He had no sympathy with Daly; the fellow was a rogue, but he had pluck and charm. In a sense, it was unnatural that they should be talking quietly and almost confidentially, but he did not feel the anger he had expected and his antagonist was calm. Still, he was none the less dangerous and would use any advantage that he could gain.

"Now you had better tell me exactly what you want," Daly resumed.

"I want you to leave my partner alone."

"Would you be satisfied with my promise?"

"No," said Foster; "not without some guarantee."

"Then we must make a bargain. I'm able, if I think it worth while, to give you what you ask. None of my confederates know anything about Featherstone's history; this ought to be obvious if you claim that Walters meant to kill him. Very well; I can, so to speak, bury an unfortunate error of his so that it will never trouble him again.

That's much. What have you to offer?"

Foster was now confronted with the difficulty he dreaded most, but he tried to be firm.

"I don't know that I need make an offer. I think I'm able to dictate terms."

"Are you?" Daly asked with an ironical smile. "Well, suppose you had me arrested? My defense would be to discredit your partner's evidence.

My lawyer would prove that Featherstone was my enemy and had a motive for revenge, by admitting that I had demanded money from him and would tell the court on what grounds. You must see the danger in which you'd put your friend."

Foster saw it; indeed, he had seen it since he began the chase. He must silence Daly, but the fellow was a criminal and he could not bring himself to promise him immunity from the punishment he deserved. Yet nothing less would satisfy the man. It looked as if he must deny his duty as a citizen if he meant to save his friend. This was the problem, and there was apparently no solution. Daly, who understood it, watched him with dry amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Well," resumed the latter, "I'll make a proposition. To begin with, we'll exchange doc.u.ments; the checks against the papers that compromise Featherstone."

"Which you haven't brought!"

"Just so," said Daly. "If we both engage to make no use of the doc.u.ments we hold, they can be exchanged at some convenient time."

"That means I must put the police off your track and meet you again."

"Exactly; you have no choice. Besides, Featherstone must promise to keep back anything he knows and you to say nothing about your meeting with Graham."

"I can't agree," Foster replied.

"Then I'm afraid your partner must take the consequences."

Foster pondered. Daly looked determined, and, knowing his friends.h.i.+p for Lawrence, meant to trade on it, but Foster must try to persuade him that he counted too much on this. The fellow played a clever game, but it was nearly finished and Foster thought he still held a trump.

"We had better ascertain to whom the consequences would be worse," he said. "Featherstone risks a stained name, his relations' distress, and the loss of friends. We'll admit it, but these things can be lived down. You risk being tried for murder and certainly for a serious robbery. There's evidence enough to convict you of a share in the latter."

"That is so," Daly agreed with unbroken calm. "I'm surprised you don't see that it strengthens my demand. It's obvious that you must help me to avoid the trial, or leave me to defend myself by doing as much damage as possible. There's no other way."

Foster thought there was, so to speak, a middle way between the two, but it was hateful to indicate, and while he hesitated the car lurched as the train ran out upon a bridge. The door swung open and Daly's face got suddenly hard. A pa.s.senger from another part of the train had entered the car and was looking into the smoking compartment. It was the man Foster had seen at the hotel. Next moment Daly was on his feet and springing across the narrow floor turned to Foster with a pistol in his hand.

"Blast you!" he said hoa.r.s.ely. "You fixed this. I thought you were straight!"

Foster understood the situation. The man in the next car was Hulton's detective or a police official who had known that Daly was on the train, and feeling sure of him, had resolved to watch them both. He had probably a companion, and Daly knew the game was up. The latter's voice had warned Foster that he was desperate. Escape was impossible; he meant to fight, and, suspecting Foster of treachery, would shoot him first. This flashed upon Foster in a second, and as Daly, still facing him, opened the vestibule door, he risked a shot and sprang forward.

He heard the pistol explode and his face felt scorched, but he struck savagely, and something rattled upon the floor. The pistol had dropped and he was somewhat surprised to feel himself unhurt as he grappled with Daly. They reeled through the door and fell against the rails of the platform. Then he got a heavy blow and his grasp slackened.

Somebody ran through the smoking compartment, and while he tried to collect his senses Daly stepped back to the gap in the rails. Foster was dizzy, but he saw the man's dark figure against the moonlight.

There was a glimmer of snow in the gloom beneath, and a confused din; the roar of wheels and a rattle from the bridge. Then Pete sprang across the platform, pa.s.sing in front of Foster, and when the latter saw the gap again Daly had gone.

Pete leaned against the back of the car, breathing hard and holding a piece of torn silk.