Geoffrey Hamstead Part 39

Mr. St. G. Le M. H. Northcote darted unsteadily, not to say lurched, into Geoffrey's room, looking for that "very dreadful waistcoat" which he had been pained to see Geoffrey wearing during the day. He found it at once in a closet, and, wrapping it in among several trousers and coats which he had selected at random, he came out again with the bundle in his hand.

"What are you doing there with my clothes?" asked Geoffrey, rising good-humoredly, but inwardly nervous, and going toward the bedroom as Northcote came out.

"I am going to give them to a gentleman whose station in life is not properly typified in his garb."

Geoffrey did not see the waistcoat lying inside one of the coats in the bundle, and so he thought it better to humor the idea than run any chances. He had taken off this objectionable article before going to dinner, intending to come back and burn it when he had more time.

He took the bundle from Northcote and handed it to Patsey as he dragged that individual to the door. "Here," he said. "Don't come down in rags to my room again. Now, get out."

Patsey disappeared hurriedly through the door. He had his own opinion of these young men who were so ready to pay for the pleasure of knocking him about, and if he had been required to cla.s.sify mammalia he would not have applied the old name of _h.o.m.o sapiens_ to any species to which they belonged.

The next day, to kill time during the anxious hours, Geoffrey went out yachting with Dusenall and several others. As the wind fell off, they did not reach the moorings again until late in the evening, when they dined at the club-house on the island, and slept on the Ideal instead of going home. After an early breakfast the next morning they were rowed across the bay, and Geoffrey reached the bank at the usual time.

In this way, having been away from town all night, he knew nothing of the news that had spread like wildfire through certain circles on the previous night, that Jack Cresswell had been arrested and brought to Toronto. The first person whom he met at the door of the bank was the omnipresent Detective Dearborn, who smiled and asked him what he thought of the news.

"What news?" asked Geoffrey, his eyes growing small.

"Why, this," he replied, handing Geoffrey one of the morning papers, which he had not yet seen. Geoffrey read the following, printed in very large type, on the first page:

CLEVER CAPTURE!

JACK CRESSWELL, THE VICTORIA BANK ROBBER ARRESTED!

THE STOLEN $50,000 SUPPOSED TO BE NOW RECOVERED!

EXCITING CHASE AND EXTRAORDINARY DETECTIVE WORK!

A BULL'S-EYE FOR DETECTIVE DEARBORN!

PRISONER CAPTURED DURING A COLLISION BETWEEN TWO VESSELS!

WRECK OF THE STEAMER ELEUSINIAN!!

ALL ON BOARD LOST!!

EXCEPT THE WILY DETECTIVE.

GREAT EXCITEMENT!!

FURTHER DISCLOSURES ABOUT THE BANK!!!

THE BLOATED ARISTOCRACY SHAKEN TO ITS FOUNDATIONS!!!!

Detective Dearborn, on his arrival in Toronto, was so certain of convicting his prisoner that he threw the hungry newspaper reporters some choice and tempting _morceaux_. And, from the little that he gave them, they built up such an interesting and imaginative article that one was forced to think of the scientific society described by Bret Harte, when Mr. Brown--

Reconstructed there.

From those same bones an animal that was extremely rare.

Indeed, from the glowing colors in which the detective's chase was painted, from the many allusions to Jack's high standing in society and his terrible downfall, from a full description of Jack as being the petted darling of all the unwise virgins of the upper ten, and from the way that the name of Jack was familiarly bandied about, one necessarily ended the article with a disbelief in any form of respectability, especially in the upper cla.s.ses, and with a profound conviction that society generally was rotten to the core. The name "Jack" seemed now to have a criminal sound about it, and reminded the reader of "Thimble-rig Jack" and "Jack Sheppard," and other notorieties who have done much to show that people called "Jack" should be regarded with suspicion.

Mr. Dearborn watched Geoffrey's face as he glanced over the newspaper.

Dearborn had a sort of an idea from all he could learn, that Jack had had a longer head than his own to back him up, and, for reasons which need not be mentioned now, he suspected that there was more than one in this business.

However, Geoffrey knew that he was being watched, and his nerve was still equal to the occasion. He turned white, as a matter of course--so did everybody in the bank--and Dearborn got no points from his face.

Geoffrey handed him back the paper, and said commiseratingly: "Poor Jack, he has dished himself, sure enough, this time."

Dearborn served him then with a subpoena to attend the hearing before the police magistrate at an hour which was then striking, and Geoffrey walked over to the police court with him.

Standing-room in the court that day was difficult to get. In the morning well-worn _habitues_ of that interesting place easily sold the width of their bodies on the floor for fifty cents.

Maurice Rankin had rushed off to see Jack in the morning. He knew nothing about the evidence, but he felt that Jack was innocent. He found his friend apparently in a sort of stupor, and was hardly recognized by him.

"You must have the best lawyer I can get to defend you, Jack," he said.

No answer.

"Don't you intend to make any defense or have any a.s.sistance? I can get you a splendid man in two minutes."

Jack shook his head slowly, and said, with an evident effort:

"No. I don't care."

Rankin did not know what to make of him; but, finally, he said:

"Well, if you won't have any person better, I will sit there, and if I see my way to anything I'll perhaps say a word. You do not object to my doing this, do you?" Jack's answer, or rather the motion of his head, might have meant anything, but Rankin took it to mean a.s.sent.

At half-past nine, Jack was led from the cell outside to the court-room by two policemen who seemed partly to support him.

A thrill ran through his old friends when they saw him. His face was ghastly, and his jaw had dropped in an enervated way that gave him the appearance of a man who had been fairly cornered and had "thrown up the sponge" in despair. He had not been brushed or combed for two nights and a day. He still wore his old, dirty sailing clothes. The sailor's sheath-knife attached to his leather belt had been removed by the police. His partial stupor was construed to be dogged sullenness, and it a.s.sisted in giving every one a thoroughly bad impression as to his innocence.

After he was placed in the dock he sat down and absently picked at some blisters on his hands, until the magistrate spoke to him, and then the policemen ordered him to stand up. When he stood thus, partly raised above the spectators, his eyes were l.u.s.terless and stolid and he looked vacantly in the direction of the magistrate.

"John Cresswell, it is charged against you that you did, on the 25th day of August last, at the city of Toronto, in the county of York, feloniously steal, take, and carry away fifty thousand dollars, the property of the Victoria Bank of Canada," etc.

Rankin saw that Jack did not comprehend what was going on. He got up, and was going to say something when the magistrate continued:

"Do you wish that the charge against you shall be tried by me or with a jury at the next a.s.sizes, or by some other court of competent jurisdiction?"

No answer.

The magistrate looked at Jack keenly. It struck him that the prisoner had been imbibing and was not yet sober, and so he spoke louder, and in a more explanatory and informal tone.

"You may be tried, if you like, on some other day, before the county judge without a jury, or you may wait till the coming a.s.sizes and be tried with a jury, or, if you consent to it, you may be tried here, now, before me. Which do you wish to do?"

Still no answer.

Rankin considered. He knew nothing of the evidence, and thought it impossible for Jack to be guilty. He did not wish to relinquish any chances his friend might have with a jury, and he felt that Jack himself ought to answer if he could. He went to him and said simply, for it was so difficult to make him understand:

"Do you want to be tried now or afterward?"

Jack nodded his head, while he seemed to be trying to collect himself.

"You mean to be tried now?"

Jack looked a little brighter here, and said weakly:

"Certainly--why not?"