JOHN LYON, DETECTIVE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 382, 29 July 1911, Page 2

JOHN LYON, DETECTIVE.

S'Copyright.^

Jeing a Strange Chronicle from the Note-book of John Lyon, Elucidator, Known as the " Lion of the Law."

By the Author of " The Castle Mystery," etc., etc.

PART 2.;■' CHAPTER 11. " TPIE CONSPIRATORS." The great iron works of Mont, Quarles and Co. at Tipton are among the sights of the Black County. The marvellous organising ability Df Montacue Quarles had formed the vast industry which gave employment to 8,000 workers. It mattered ;ittle to the order of the huge workshops that the great iron master ivhose skill had called the immense factories into being lay ill—some said dying—in the Cecil Hotel. The plans of the master mind had been too carefully made. Absent or present, the work went on. The right nan in the right place was not the jxeeption—he was the rule. Every ivorker knew his task and did his part with skill and ability for which ie was paid.

But though the work went on there was a feeling of sorrow in many a heart. The great strong fellows who the castings, brought the huge ingots to the furnace, and placed the white-hot metal beneath the huge steam hammer, were men, and had men's feelings, and they knew how to Feel a real affection for the master, who had treated them as men and not merely as " hands." Many a one could tell of a cheery word, a kindlj hint, a thoughtful deed, that, coming In hours of labour, had sweetened toil and mad* them proud to be the workers for such a master

Among the managers of departments and the official heads there was the same feeling. They knew their duties and they did them, too well drilled into using their brains to stop because the head of the business was absent.

Mr. Quarles was ill—perhaps dying. Mr. Bookmonger had disappeared, bui there was still Mr. Haskins, the general manager, to look to for guidance and directions. Mr, Tobias Haskins was at his'desk at nine o'clock every morning, and left it at five. Come fine weather- or foul, you could time your watch bj him. The great suite of offices in the right of the entrance of the management buildings were under Mr. Haskins' control ; those on- the left were shared by Mr. Quarles and his private secretary, Arthur Bookmonger. There was not a pin to chose between Haskins' private office and thai of Mr. Quarles. Each was furnished with pile carpets, heavy oil paintings and expensive fittings. The only difference was that from Mr. Haskins : office ran a long corridor that led tc the general control departments ol the firm, while Mr. Quarles' was shut off in a corner by itself. Mr. Tobias Haskins sat at his desk reading the card that had beeri brought to him. It was Montacue Quarles* card, and on it was written, " Introducing Mr Rhodes."

" Show him in," said Haskins. A moment later Mr. Rhodes enter-

Haskins looked at him, took him in at a glance, and pointed to a chair. " Business ?" he said abrupty.

Mr. Haskins' never wasted a word[f he could express anything by a sign he made that sign. Pie only opened his mouth when he had to.

" I have seen Mr. Quarles, began the visitor, "who desires me to make certain investigations here for aim."

"Office or workshops?" snapped out Haskins.

" Workshops mostly ; perhaps office as well. I am to work under your wishes, and if it is possible—" "Anything is possible," jerked out Haskins, "with men. Your authority ?"

The visitor took a letter from his pockiet and passed it to Mr. Haskins. It was a letter authorising the bearer to wander where he liked in the iron works, ask any questions hj( wished, and take on whatever hands he desired to work in any capacity. Haskins read it through. " Quite in order," he said. " I'll assist you." "It may mean a little trouble, and I'm sorry," said the visitor, but the manager stopped him. "It is Mr. Quarles' wish," he olurted out —" that is enough !"

He reached to touch the electric Dell. Mr. Rhodes stopped him. " One moment, Mr. Haskins," he said. " I don't want to be wandering about here, and everyone wondering who I am and gossiping. I arr professing to be a contractor making plans for rebuilding a part of the works. You understand ?" Mr. Haskins looked at him. " Is that true or a lie ?" he said " I'm afraid it's not strictly true," returned the visitor.

".Is' it Mr. Quarles' wish yov. should pose as such ?" "He agrees to my working mj own way." " Very well. I obey his wishes You tell your own lies !" And the finger came down on the bell.

There was something so straight forward and direct about the mar that the visitor began to understanc why he had been placed in such at important position.

But' there was no cime for him tc moralise, for a moment later a Uugt

broad-shouldered man of about fortj entered the room—a man who looked as if he were moulded in a giant mould of the very iron and steel iD which he worked. Haskins turned to Mr. Rhodes. " This iis my sub-manager Mr. Walter Bantry. Tell him your wishes."

"I wish to come, and go as I like," explained Rhodes, " in the offices and workshops with certain structural ideas in my mind for alterations." Bantry stared at him. " A pretty large order," he said, gruffly. " May I ask who and what—"

" Ask nothing," snapped in Has kins ; " he has my authority." "Very well, sir. What next?"

"As I am carrying out some extensive plans," went on the visitor. " I may want to employ some of my own men, who, being on the spot, will be able to assist me by their reports." " Pie has my authority," chipped in Plaskins. "My orders extend to this and no further."

And Mr. Haskins took up the next document on his table, as if to imply that thus he was dismissing them. Neither of the two waited further. With a gruff " follow me " Bantry led the way into an office almost as magnificent as the one he had left. " Queer idea, isn't it ?" he began, passing Mr. Rhodes his cigar case. " You're going to inspect the place with the idea of rebuilding it. That the case ?"

Rhodes explained that it was. More than that he gave his name and particulars of his work, and finished up by expressing his desire to go around the workshops at once. Mr. Bantry was as talkative as Haskins was silent. He wanted tc know this, that, and the other. He had his own ideas upon a new " finishing shed " that he explained in full detail and concluded by offering to show Mr. Rhodes around the place himself if his visitor would just wait a few minutes while he went to give a few orders. And Mr. Bantry left his visitor with the morning papers.

The sub-manager's business was evidently urgent, for the moment he left his office he slipped out of a side door, stepped alertly across some truck-lines, dodged down behind some huge pilto of coal, then into a large square of industry. Upon one side of this a dozen huge furnaces were throbbing and fluttering. The molten metal heated tc white heat, made the very air hoi and stifling.

Here and there a tiny jet of whitehot iron was belching out througt the sanded orifice into the mould oi sand-bucket lying ready to receive it. Bantry stepped up to the largest of these furnaces waited for a second or two till a casting was completed, then placed his hand upon the shoulder of one of the workmen. The man turned. " Yeth, sir," he said ; " what it! it ?" " Clanch, I want a word witt you." The man with the lisp touched his cap, and, taking a cue from the sub manager's manner led the way oul of the fiery square.

In a minute they were underneatl a huge circular wall in a deserted corner of the works, with no one ir sight.

" Well," said the man, " what it! it ? Have you heard any more aboul the mathter ? Ith he dead yet ?" " Worse than that," said Bantrv. " Worth than that ! Ith thai tho ?"

" Yes," went on Bantry ; " living or dying, Quarles is dangerous. He has sent a man to inquire intc things. The one man in England 1 fear. The one man who will never stop till he is dead or has succeed 2d." Clanch laughed.

" I should like to thee thith won derful fellow," he said. " Where itL he?"

" Pie is in my office at the present moment. He calls himself ' Mr. Rhodes, contractor,' but I knew him the moment I set eyes on him." " And who ith he then ?" "He is John Lyon, the detective a,nd it's a fight to the finish."

CHAPTER 111. THE OIL TRAVELLERS

John Lyon—for the sub-managei was right in supposing he had recognised him —had rather longer tc wait than he expected. Almost an tiour passed before Bantry returned.

When he did so, however, he was profuse in his apologies, and immediately started Lyon off for a long journey of inspection. Lyon kept up his part well. He had brought a note book with him in which he kept entering particulars of new sheds to be put up here and furnaces to be erected there. The two men talked so aptly and earnestly together about the improvements that no one would have supposed for a moment that they were both busily engaged in deceiving eacl other.

At last Lyon took his departure Under the careful piloting of the sub-manager, he had failed to dc what he wanted to do. He had failed to get into friendly conversation here and there with different people.

Leaving the works he sought his hotel. A man was waiting to see him, a man attired like a commercial traveller, carried a sample has and was busily engaged in the disposal of machine oil. The two met met in the hotel entrance, a square lobby that served the many purposes of lobby, office and bar. " Hallo, Mr. Rhodes," said the traveller. " I heard you were stay ing here. Now I've got a few samples —" " Like your last lot," said Lyon sarcastically.

*' Like my last lot," repeated th. traveller, firmly., i' Jolly good stuff

Now let me snow you tnem. im—

" Yes, I know," returned Lyon. " But I'm not ' doing trade away from my office. If you like to conic up to my room and have a chat, come along. But don't show me any samples of your confounded engine oil or I'll make you drink it." •'l'll risk that," laughed the traveller. " Here, lead the way and 1 will follow." And the two set off for Lyon's bodroom. The moment they entered the chamber, their manner changed. " Done it !" replied Christian Lcsage, "as neatly as a job could be done. My old friend Taylor tumbled to the suggestion like a bird. He's been having bad luck lately—out. o' work, you know—and the offer oi three guineas a day and good fare nt the Cecil Hotel struck him. He's h ing there in Quarles' room as snug and sound as if he had been o. confirmed invalid all his days. As ar invalid he is supposed to have n poor appetite, but Quarles brother-in-law, the sham doctor, and his confidential man smuggle in some titbits."

" Oh, he got away as easily as n man could. He put on Taylor's clothes, shaved off his beard, trimmed his hair a bit so as to carry out fhe fraud—Taylor ,is not unlike him in appearance, you know—took a taxicab to the City, got into one oi those huge barrack buildings of of fices, went up in one lift to the top. lodged down another to near the bottom, walked boldly into one of the offices, stayed there an hour, till it was dark, slipped out. of a side entrance, dodged about the underground railways and tubes till it was quite nine o'clock, then he got DUt to Hampstead, walked across the Heath, struck down to Willesden. where he bought an old overcoat. and caught the train for Birmingnam."

" And he's there now ?" " Yes, ready whenever we wanf dim. His address is—"

" I know," said Lyon, rising froir his chair, and crossing the floor—- " 29, Padgrove, Street, Moseley—" " What are you talking about ?" enquired Lesage. " The address is—"

" Shut, up !" retorted Lyon, making a spring to the door and turning the handle.

A young man almost, stumbled in. There was no doubt about it he had been iistening. He drew himself quickly to his feet and looked ill at ease.

" What do you want ?" asked Lyon " w r hy were you listening at my door ?"

" I beg your pardon, sir," saic the young man, confusedly, "I was not listening, I was only waiting, sir." " Waiting ! What for ?" " Well, sir, it may seem strange to you, but I heard what you and the other gentleman were saving in the bar, and —well, business has been simply' awful lately, and when a man has a wife and family to support he has to think of every dodge." " I don't understand," pursucc Lyon, relentlessly. " You sec," went on the younc man, "I sell oils, machine oils, of every kind, and when I heard you talking, I knew you were a buyer, sc I thought I'd wait about and catch you." " I don't buy oil on my business journeys," said Lyon, briefly. " Besides, I don't approve of your ways

of trading. This other gentlemar has my attention at present —" " Yes, yes, sir. I was only explaining. I've made a mistake, sir. I meant no harm —"

" But," went on Lyon, " I dou'i mind seeing samples, and hearing prices. Come back to the hotel in ar hour's time."

" Very good, sir." And the young man trudged of! in a nervous, confused kind of way.

Lyon waited till his footsteps had died away on the stairs. " Smart young man, Lesage," he said. " Yes !" " Good oil traveller, I should think." " M'yes." " Considering ho was a clerk in the oil works two hours ago." "Good gracious !" cried Lesage, " a spy !" " A spy ! They're on our track already. This means our plans are all altered. Have jou brought Sambo with you ?" " Yes." "He must be here iu an hour to track that man and find out all about him. He's one of them, or he can lead us to them. Now, you see why I stopped your giving that adiress ?"

" Good gracious, yes !" " Well, the spy has gone. Now I can tell you my plans." And for the next ten minutes Lyon and Lesage spoke in whispers. (To be Continued.)