Was He the Man?

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10203, 3 April 1911, Page 2

Was He the Man?

OUR SERIAL.

BY F. L. DACRE, Author of "A Phantom of the Past," "Tronholme's Trust," "The Doctor's Secret," "A Loveless Marriage," "Sir John's Heiress," etc.

'it an important link in tho chain of evidence which I wished to forge. i Stowing it away carefully in the bottom of my watch pocket, I eomi menced my search, now fully convinced ' that my mysterious dream rested in some strange way upon the basis of fact; that the burglary had really tak- ' en place, and that I should find nothing that would help me to establish the identity of ray dear dead friend. | A long and careful search revealed ab- | .solutely nothing. Everything was in ! perfect order. Several valuables which 1 might easily have been carried away, I remained in the drawers and trunks; ' but there was . not a single article I whose presence in the house would go to prove that Denver had lately re- . turned home. My fruitless search over, I returned , to London in very low spirits, cursing the remissness on my part which had permitted the enemy to steal an important march upon me. Arrived at, Charing Cross station, lat once went to Fenton's chambers in the Middle Temple, and found him just out of court, and somewhat elated by a hard-won, | but brilliant victory. When I told my bad news, his elation, at once gave way to seriousness. I After listening in silence at all I had, j to tell, he said: j "This is very serious—in fact, a. mis- ' fortune from your point of view. As ' to your dream, of course, I have noth- j I ing to say, except that it is a very I marvellous coincidence—a revelation, Jindeed, if you like to call it so, but of ! no value practically. The facts show however, that unless you have been terribly mistaken all along the line, the enemy has scored a point. It will 1 not be perfectly easy for him to prove 1 his identity as Major Denver, so far as ' | T can see, and for that contingency we ; ! mu«t be prepared." : j '""l'm afraid you're right;" I replied. ' I "And what advise mo to ' .take?" • ofiact thesis only one -,, course open to you. I.t'fe'ript a pleas- - .ant one. and it will need no little skill - jto carry it through successfully."^ »j "You mean, I suppose, thai when • the double turns up as Denver, I must ' • recognise him and acquiesce when he ' J says—as of course lie will—that the i dead man was really Fitzgerald?" > "Exactly. Granted that your theory ■ ' is correct, and that your dream was I I really a physical projection, or what--1 ever spiritualists would call it, your ' | only chance of ultimately exposing the I , imposture ijs to keep the impostor as 1 I completely in tho dark . as possible. ■ You must welcome him as your friend, > [confess that you were taken in by a , jdead man's resemblance to him, and i in his presence destroy the will you ; hold. That will completely lull his : suspicions if he has any, and do no • harm, since the will was executed in ? duplicate. Of course he nm<t know > j nothing of the existence of the other ) copy, or of the fact that you possess the - i narrative and the pieces of the dagger. 1 | In short, you must lead him to suppose that you are completely ignorant of i all the details that you could not get: - from the public paners ; and, above all, ' you must not let him think that voii = ,bave any suspicious to his real idem I tit?," -

CHAPTER VII. —Co.itinurd. I obeysd, and in n few ir.ir.utes Lho , contents of the trur.k wjro lying upo:: ( the floor. \ Tur'iVi.Jc t'u ■ light of the kntor:i upon them." Dei vc: rapidly picked out two or three bundles of papers and letters, a couple of pocket-hooks, a cardcase, some jewellery, and a lewarticles of wearing apparel. The letters and papers lie put into his pocket, and j the cloth I stowed away in a black j cloth bag T carried. The remaining con- j tents of tho trunk were replaced, the lid wan shut down and locked, and j Denver roso to his feet with a lantern in his hand. . | As he raised it the bright glare fell ( upon tho bed. and there, stretched white- and rigid, Jay tho corps of _ my j dead friend, exactly as I had left it on ( thv? morning of his death. With one- swift glance from th living to the dead, I uttered a scream of terror and awoke, sitting up in- my own bed, and the broad daylight streaming between the slats of the Venetian blinds, CHAPTER VIII M. GASTONMOREL. When I realised where I was, T lopkedrat/the clock on the mantel, and sawthat it was nearly half past seven. After a cold bathrand a hasty breakfast, which consisted of strong coffee well dashed with brandy, and some deviled bones, which I made a sorry pretense of picking, I sent for a taxicab, and just caught the nine-ten train for.gravesend. On the way I revolved again and again,' the strange dream I had had. Of course, it was to be accounted for on strictly practical grounds bv reference to my conversation with F.entdn and nis'sui>sestiaivof the possibly'fturglary; but might there not,,be possibly .more in it tlian. this? Wn*'ere there .not several we.ll-aWJhenti-csvted; cases on record-in. which objective realities "had been suhiectivelv re.produced in'lthe dreams of those deeply" concerned,"* and might not this be fju'ch a case ? - A few weeks before I should have laughed at the idea. no doubt: but there are matters after all, which; in the nature of the ca?e. can neither be justly estimated nor impartially observed in what is generally called cold blond. But; bow 'vas X in my vision, if such itreallv was? If a hurglarv had 'been committed that night, and had reproduced by some subtle influence in my dreams, how was I to explain tho fact that T had wen it, not in my own personality, but in that of some one who was - a perfect stranger to me ? And yet the face that I had seen for an instant in the mirror on entering the bedroom was certainly familiar. Where had I seen it before? Ah I The two men I had seen on the embankment the night before! Instantly, too, I recalled the words I had overheard: ; "Not for Jim—that is, not Jim j Robson." Yes, I saw it all now. I j had visited Denver's house in my ! dream, in the personality en James 1 Robson.. Fitzgerald's- accomplice., and I the man on all my of suci cess rested. .-

:■%■%. t''^ e i reached this coni?W!i, I had fully persuaded myself that my dream was nothing else than a mysterious revelation of warning of the schemes of Denver's enemies and mine to defeat his vengeance and ruin me.

Arrived at Gravesend, I got the keys and went straight to the house. Still possessed by my dream. I walked round outside to the little window and carefully examined it. Several minutes close scrutinv revealed a few scratches on the woodwork near the latch. I examined them eagerly. .Yes, they thev might have been marie by anyone trying to unfasten the window, from the outside in the dark, but they might have been due to other causes. Certainly of themselves they furnished no definite proof that the house had been feloniously entered through the window.

Entering by a side door, I went first to the study. Drawing up the blind, and tlirowing open the shutters of the large window, I looked anxiously round-the room. There was no signs of burglary; everything was in its place, and • the light dust that lay on the furniture seemed everywhere undisturbed.

I examined the locks of the doors in the secretary, and the lid of the desk. All were fast, and apparently untouched. Then, impelled by an idea by what I confess I felt half ashamed, I went to the sofa which stood under the little window, as I had seen it in my dream. On stoooing down to examine it, the smile called up by my own folly instantly faded, and the blood rushed to my head, for on. the leather covering of the sofa I saw a broad patch, just under the window, from which the dust had been completely swept away, and Was I dreaming still? No, I was wide awake enough, and staring with starting eyes at "a button lying in the hollow between the seat and the back. With trembling fingers T nicked it out and held it to the light. It was a medium-sized horn button, such as might belong to a Sunday coat of an artisan. It was a dark mottled brown, and its face bore a somewhat peculiar pattern, a circle containing a square, each side of which was formed by six very fine lines. I was not without hope tha.t it would be sufficiently difficult to match to make

"Quite so," I replied with a smile; 'but, meanwhile, would it not bo well to begin a little counter-plotting „ on our own account, to see whether we cannot find the owner of this button?" "By all means. Whatever course the enemy—as T will call him for the present—may take, we must not let the grass grow under our feet. 'But let us go round to the Duval and have a chop, and then I will introduce,youto a man who will find the coat that button came off, if any man can. Bv the way, though," added Fenton, "I ought to tell you that this man. who is a sort of privateer in the detective line, charges pretty freely for the use of his brains."

j "A nice ta.«k" T Said, with .* sres- ' ture of disgust, "(still 1 a"g'-?e that it is inevitable, and it must be carried through as best I can. I'll begin at *' once by going .back to my old t) v ade; a?, indeed I must, if the will is not to be established for nn indefinite time." | "Well said," replied Fenton. "The work will do you cood by keeping vour mind f diverted, to some extent from this trying business. A one-idea man doesn't take long to Jiocome a mono'-- " manaic. you know."

"Never mind," I replied: "if the brains are good I will pay for them. Fortunately I have some hundreds of pounds at liberty just now, and I will spend every penny I possess to thwart this'audacious coundrel" "If scoundrel he is," added Fenton, with a malicious chuckle, which made me bite my lips to keep back an angry retort. Whether lie was not convinced himself, or said it only for fun, I could not help noticing that Fenton never took it for granted, as I did, that we had to "deal with' an impostor. Lunch over, we took a taxicab. which in due course deposited nS at the door of a. modest private residence in the Euston Road. The door was opened by a smart looking lad, who seemed to take rapid stock of us. while Fenton was inquirirg if Mr Burton was at home. (To %<• OfmUnverf.)