An Amiable Charlatan Part 40

"Come, come!" he said. "Things are not so bad. You might have been caught!"

"Aren't you going to give information?" Rodwell asked quickly.

"Not a thought of it!" Mr. Bundercombe a.s.sured him, catching the case Rodwell threw toward him. "I want, so far as possible, to see both sides happy. Here, Paul; put these in your pocket!" he added, turning to me. "If you take my advice, Rodwell," he concluded, "you'll stay where you are until I return. I promise you that Mr. Walmsley and I will return alone, and that I will give no intimation of your presence here to any person whatsoever."

Rodwell was puzzled. He rose slowly to his feet, however, and walked toward the basin at the other end of the apartment.

"All right!" he agreed sullenly. "I shall be here."

Mr. Bundercombe and I descended into the street. I was feeling a little dazed. Mr. Bundercombe led the way into the Tarteran establishment, which was still in a state of disorder. He asked to speak to the princ.i.p.al, who came forward, still looking very perturbed.

"Sorry to hear of this robbery!" Mr. Bundercombe said. "Have they caught the fellow?"

"They caught the man in the motor car," the manager groaned; "but he had no jewels on him and my people can't swear to him. He seems to have a very coherent story."

"Have you communicated with the police?" Mr. Bundercombe asked.

The manager stretched out his hand.

"Four of them are in the place now," he answered, a little despairingly.

"What's the good? The fellow's got away! He's got the finest necklace in the shop with him, gems worth twenty thousand pounds."

Mr. Bundercombe nodded sympathetically.

"Have you offered a reward yet?"

"We can't do everything in ten minutes!" the manager replied, a little testily. "We shall offer one, of course."

"What amount are you prepared to go to?" Mr. Bundercombe asked.

The man looked at him eagerly.

"Do you mean, sir--" he began.

Mr. Bundercombe stretched out his hands.

"You may search me!" he interrupted. "I have nothing in the way of jewels on me. My name is Joseph H. Bundercombe and I have a house in Prince's Gardens. This is my son-in-law-to-be, Mr. Walmsley, M.P. for Bedfords.h.i.+re."

The manager bowed.

"I know you quite well, sir," he said, "and Mr. Walmsley, of course; both he and many of his relatives are valued clients of ours. But about the jewels?"

"What reward do you offer?"

"Five hundred pounds," was the prompt reply; "more, if necessary."

Mr. Bundercombe smiled approvingly.

"Circ.u.mstances," he explained, "of a peculiar nature, into which I am quite sure it will suit your purpose not to inquire, have enabled me to claim the reward and to restore to you the jewels."

The manager gripped him by the arm.

"Come into the office at once!" he begged.

We followed him into a little room at the back of the shop. He was trembling all over.

"No questions asked?" Mr. Bundercombe insisted.

"Not the shadow of one!" the manager agreed. "I don't care if--pardon me, sir--if you stole them yourself! The loss of those jewels would do the firm more harm than I can explain to you."

Mr. Bundercombe turned toward me and I produced the case. The manager seized it eagerly, opened it, turned on the electric light and closed the case again with a great sigh of relief. He held out his hand.

"Mr. Bundercombe," he said, "I don't care how you got these. I have been robbed three times and put the matter into the hands of the police--and never recovered a single stone! I'd shake hands with the man who stole them so long as I got them back. How will you have the reward, sir?"

"Notes, if you can manage it," Mr. Bundercombe replied.

The manager went to his safe and counted over notes and gold to the amount of five hundred pounds, which Mr. Bundercombe b.u.t.toned up in his pockets.

"I ask you now, sir," he said, "for your word of honor that you will not have us followed or make any further inquiries into this affair."

"It is given--freely given!" the manager promised. "When you leave this establishment I shall turn my back to you. You may hand over the notes to whosoever you like upon the pavement outside and it won't concern me.

Nor," he added, "shall I tell the police for at least half an hour that I have the necklace. They deserve a little extra trouble for letting the fellow get away."

Mr. Bundercombe and I left the shop and ascended the stairs leading to the manicure parlor. Rodwell, who had bathed his face and made a complete change of toilet, was pacing up and down the little room. Blanche, too, was there, still pale and weeping.

"Now," Mr. Bundercombe began, as he carefully closed the door behind him, "I told you a few minutes ago I was neither on your side nor on the side of the law. I am about to prove it. I have returned the jewels to Tarteran's, no questions to be asked, and I've got the reward. There you are, young lady!" he added, placing the roll of notes and a handful of gold in her hand. "You have given me a week or so of intense interest and amus.e.m.e.nt. There is your reward for it. If you want to divide it with your friend it's nothing to do with me. Take it and run along. So far as regards this little establishment the rent is paid for another three months; but, so far as regards my connection with it, I think I needn't explain--"

"That you've been fooling me!" the girl interrupted, a faint smile at the corners of her lips. "Do you know, sometimes I suspected that you weren't in earnest! And then one day I saw your wife--and I wasn't sure!"

"Good morning!" Mr. Bundercombe said severely. "Come along, Paul!"

CHAPTER XV--LORD PORTHONING'S LESSON

Mr. Bundercombe laid his hand compellingly on my arm. "Who's the wizened-up little insect, with a snarl on his face?" he inquired of me earnestly.

My slight impulse of irritation at such a description applied to one of my wedding guests pa.s.sed when I looked up and saw the person to whom Mr.

Bundercombe had directed my attention. I recognized the adequacy of the wording."

"That," I replied, "is the Earl of Porthoning."

"Kind of connection, isn't he?" Mr. Bundercombe inquired.

I nodded.

"His son married my sister."