RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONDON DETECTlVE.—(Continued.)

Manawatu Herald, Issue III, 10 March 1891, Page 4

RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONDON DETECTlVE.—(Continued.)

Mornce seemed angry and heate'J, ana spoke loudly and imperatively, or I should not have caught even that word. I pondered it for a little, and concluded to try Liverpool Street Station. Morrice lived out near Bryant & May's Match Works, • fully five minutes' ride from the city, and always came and went from Liverpool Station. Allowing him an hour or an hour and a half at home, he might be back at the city about half-past six o'clock, and what could be a more natural place for him to meet a friend belonging to that quarter than at the railway station ? I smudged my face and did up as a beggar with bare feet, and only a shirt, waistcoat, and trousers on, and went to the station and watched every incoming train, after I had explained to the stationmaster that I was not a beggai deserving seven days for daring to show my rrags and loiter in that place. I had been in the place speaking to him only the night before about a missing dressing-case, and J chaffed him over his blunder in not recognising me, though I was not so hopeful ol cheating Joss's sharp eyes. About seven o'clock Joss appeared, and J kept well out of sight. He w^s joined a few minutes later by Morrice fronr one ol the trains, and the two went to a public.- . house in a street off Bishopgate. I wii.? " bearing up " all the way, and Joss seemed less sharp than usual, for he only once looked round, and then when he saw me seemed to have no suspicion. All the way Morrice was pouring out his anger uson Joss, who laughed at it all. " You've cheated me into a dangerous job, when professing to be only lending money for a decent interest, and helping me out oi . a difficulty," he cried more than once. "1/ they are traced to me, what will become ol me?" "Why, you'll go to prison, of cours*," 1 understood Joss to say, though he- was sc cautious that I could scarcely catch the words;- "You'd have gone there anyhow, so what's the use of making a fuss over it." "They're after me now — I know they F are," continued Morrice. " A man was at ne the other day about one of the notes. J ■ didp't suspect anything then, but I believ* now that that map was a detective. If 1 had known then that the notes were wrong, no note of them would have gone out, but now I am helpless." " Then if you hadn't passed them, how ] could you have squared your books ?" said j Joss with a wicked laugh, and less cautiously ' £ than before. \ "What books?" cried Morrice, quite agha t. '^Oh, you think I didn't know what you wanted the /500 for?" said Joss. "Think I didn't know all you lost at the Dirby? & -. efod where it came from ? and where you'd '"'; iave been ii I hadn't given you the ueeami . It's all right and safe with me though, so Jon't get alarmed. I'll never peach if I find you reasonable and willing to do me a good turn at times. Is it a bargain ?" L "Morrice made no answer, but stared at p . the other's leering face with stony despair. I They had reached the public-housei and went in and had some drink at the counter, which Morrice scartely tasted. I saw from « the opposite side of the street that Joss was still talking volubly, but in a low tone. He seemed to be propounding some scheme, which Morrice listened to with the greatest eagerness up to a certain point, when his face flushed crimson r his eyes blazed up, g| and before you could say Jack Robinson his p fist had flown out, and caught Joss between ■ the eyes, knocking him over, glass in hand. When he was down the infuriated cashier kicked him all over the shop before the barman could get round and separate them. ■ Joss roared loudly for the police ; but when one appeared he had no particular charge to make, and Morrice was allowed to walk off. Only a word here and there of Joss's ; speeches had reached my ear, aud though I f have pieced them out in putting them down, "'/ I had not heard enough to justify me" in arresting him. I war. in no hurry for that, as I knew I could get him at any time; and, besides, I pitied Morrice, and was beginning to wonder if I could not get him to help me t to trip up the older and greater scoundrel. After getting his passion out Morrice walked away, leaving Jobs still swearing and threatening, and I followed at a distance. When he first began to walk he was erect and indignant, and moved along at such a pace that I could scarcely keep up with him ; but as his passion wore off he became less erect, and his pace slower, till he was crawling alo.ng with his head sunk on his breast, ' the very picture of despair. He seemed to '. have* no.»particular goal in view, and chose the quietest and darkest streets. He landed at last in a public-house, where he sat drinking and moodily staring at a paper, which, I'm sure, he was not reading, till nearly eleven o'clock Then he wandered out again. The drink had not made him tipsy,. but he was no more demonstrative I when in a quiet place, and I saw him wring bis hands, and heard him curse himself every little while. In one of the deserted streets in the City he stopped at a lamp and scribbled something on a leaf which he tore from a letter taken from his pocket. He round sharply when he had finished, and to keep him from suspecting me I began to move as H to pass him at .the same moment. . " Here, you !" he cried, as I limped up to him, " would you like to earn a sixpence ?'• I bobbed my head, looking as stupid as possible, and not daring to look up or sound my voice. He then asked me if 1 knew the $-.dgar shop at which I had lately spent so . much time, and I answered that 1 did. He then gave me the folded' paper which I .had seen him write, and told me to take it to thatsishop and give it to the young lady there saying, at the same time giving me a sixpence, and adding— , " I trust to your honour to deliver it and earn the money." «f The tone in which he spoke was calm and collected, and there was not ihe slightest . trace in his words or actions of all the drink he had swallowed The only bad signs ■ were a kind of despairing ring in his tones, ■ a queer light in his eyes, and the absence of R either cigar or pipe from his mouth. When ■ a man feels himself beyond being soothed H -with a smoke his case is desperate indeed. ■ [I took the folded paper and the sixpence H ,and promised to deliver the note, though 1 ■ 'did not say when. He wanted her to get it soon as possible, and I turned the first ■ corner in great apparent eagerness to earn Hithe money. 1 knew he was watching me, H and the moment I got round the corner I H opened the paper and readHi "My Darling Fan,— l hive got into the of a tcoundrel. and been innocently into a crime. Ruin and disgrace face H'nte either way, and I choose to go with only H what 1 have done on my head Do not blame Htni, but pity vie for ever. Good-bye. " C. M. H{ By the time I had this read I guessed Hlhat Mortice would be again on the move. peeped out and saw him disappearing Hft&vardS London Bridge. I was in a fix. If ■jiMurned round and saw me he might ask ■me some awkward questions about the Hjßdivery of his note. I thus bad to keep at Hpipstance fromjiim .when it was imperative snould tie at his very elbow. A man Hfostled me roughly, and I swore at him i though the fault was mine in seeing but Morrice, and I was almost past before I recognised my mate Macintosh. Get* in front of that man in the light or at least close to him, for he's going the Bridge," I said hurriedly, ■v Davle wa« off at once, thus by the (To be continued.)