CHAPTER XXIV
THE BETTER HALF
Under the warming influence of two glasses of rum and water, and lulledby Pratt's assurance that all would be well, Murgatroyd had carried homehis hundred pounds with pretty much the same feeling which permeates aman who, having been within measurable distance of drowning, suddenlyfinds a substantial piece of timber drifting his way, and takes a firmgrip on it. After all, a hundred pounds was a hundred pounds. He wouldbe able to pay his rent, and his rates, and give something to the grocerand the butcher and the baker and the milkman; the children should havesome much-needed new clothes and boots--when all this was done, therewould be a nice balance left over. And it was Pratt's affair, when allwas said and done, and if any trouble arose, why, Pratt would have tosettle it. So he ate his supper with the better appetite which Pratt hadprophesied, and he slept more satisfactorily than usual, and nextmorning he went to the nearest telegraph office and sent off thestipulated telegram to Halstead & Byner in London, and hoped that therewas the end of the matter as far as he was concerned. And then, shortlyafter noon, in walked Mr. Eldrick, one of the tribe which Murgatroyddreaded, having had various dealings with solicitors, in the way ofwrits and summonses, and began to ask questions.
Murgatroyd emerged from that ordeal very satisfactorily. Eldrick'squestions were few, elementary, and easily answered. There were no signsof suspicion about him, and Murgatroyd breathed more freely when he wasgone. It seemed to him that the solicitor's visit would certainly windthings up--for him. Eldrick asked all that could be asked, as far as hecould see, and he had replied: now, he would probably be bothered nomore. His spirits had assumed quite a cheerful tone by evening--but theyreceived a rude shock when, summoned from his little workshop to thefront premises, he found himself confronting one man whom he certainlyknew to be a detective, and another who might be one. Do what he wouldhe could not conceal some agitation, and Detective-Sergeant Prydale, ashrewdly observant man, noticed it--and affected not to.
"Evening, Mr. Murgatroyd," he said cheerily. "We've come to see if youcan give us a bit of information. You've had Mr. Eldrick, the lawyer,here today on the same business. You know--this affair of an old clerkof his--Parrawhite?"
"I told Mr. Eldrick all I know," muttered Murgatroyd.
"Very likely," replied Prydale, "but there's a few questions thisgentleman and myself would like to ask. Can we come in?"
Murgatroyd fetched his wife to mind the shop, and took the callers intothe parlour which she had unwillingly vacated. He knew Prydale by sightand reputation; about Byner he wondered. Finally he set him down as adetective from London--and was all the more afraid of him.
"What do you want to know?" he asked, when the three men were alone. "Idon't think there's anything that I didn't tell Mr. Eldrick."
"Oh, there's a great deal that Mr. Eldrick didn't ask," said Prydale."Mr. Eldrick sort of just skirted round things, like. We want to know abit more. This Parrawhite's got to be found, d'ye see, Mr. Murgatroyd,and as you seem to be the last man who had aught to do with him inBarford, why, naturally, we come to you. Now, to start with, you say hecame to you about getting a passage to America? Just so--now, when wouldthat be?"
"Day before he did get it," answered Murgatroyd, rapidly thinking overthe memoranda which Pratt had jotted down for his benefit.
"That," said Prydale, "would be on the 23rd?"
"Yes," replied Murgatroyd, "23rd November, of course."
"What time, now, on the 23rd?" asked the detective.
"Time?" said Murgatroyd. "Oh--in the evening."
"Bit vague," remarked Prydale. "What time in the evening?"
"As near as I can recollect," replied Murgatroyd, "it 'ud be just abouthalf-past eight. I was thinking of closing."
"Ah!" said Prydale, with a glance at Byner, who had already told him ofParrawhite's presence at the _Green Man_ on the other side of the town,a good two miles away, at the hour which Murgatroyd mentioned. "Ah!--hewas here in your shop at half-past eight on the evening of November 23rdlast? Asking about a ticket to America?"
"New York," muttered Murgatroyd.
"And he came next morning and bought one?" asked the detective.
"I told Mr. Eldrick that," said Murgatroyd, a little sullenly.
"How much did it cost?" inquired Byner.
"Eight pound ten," replied Murgatroyd. "Usual price."
"What did he pay for it in?" continued Prydale.
"He gave me a ten-pound note and I gave him thirty shillings change,"answered Murgatroyd.
"Just so," assented Prydale. "Now what line might that be by?"
Murgatroyd was becoming uneasy under all these questions, and hisuneasiness was deepened by the way in which both his visitors watchedhim. He was a man who would have been a bad witness in anycase--nervous, ill at ease, suspicious, inclined to boggle--and in thisinstance he was being forced to invent answers.
"It was--oh, the Royal Atlantic!" he answered at last. "I've an agencyfor them."
"So I noticed from the bills and placards in your window," observed thedetective. "And of course you issue these tickets on their paper--I'veseen 'em before. You fill up particulars on a form and a counterfoil,don't you? And you send a copy of those particulars to the RoyalAtlantic offices at Liverpool?"
Murgatroyd nodded silently--this was much more than he bargained for,and he did not know how much further it was going. And Prydale gave hima sudden searching look.
"Can you show us the counterfoil in this instance?" he asked.
Murgatroyd flushed. But he managed to get out a fairly quick reply. "No,I can't," he answered, "I sent that book back at the end of the year."
"Oh, well--they'll have it at Liverpool," observed Prydale. "We can getat it there. Of course, they'll have your record of the entiretransaction. He'd be down on their passenger list--under the name ofParsons, I think, Mr. Murgatroyd?"
"He gave me that name," said Murgatroyd.
Prydale gave Byner a look and both rose.
"I think that's about all," said the detective. "Of course, our nextinquiry will be at Liverpool---at the Royal Atlantic. Thank you, Mr.Murgatroyd--much obliged."
Before the watchmaker could collect himself sufficiently to say or askmore, Prydale and his companion had walked out of the shop and goneaway. And then Murgatroyd realized that he was in for--but he did notknow what he was in for. What he did know was that if Prydale went orsent over to Liverpool the whole thing would burst like a bubble. Forthe Royal Atlantic people would tell the detectives at once that nopassenger named Parsons had sailed under their auspices on November 24thlast, and that he, Murgatroyd, had been telling a pack of lies.
Mrs. Murgatroyd, a sharp-featured woman whose wits had been sharpened bya ten years' daily acquaintance with poverty, came out of the shop intothe parlour and looked searchingly at her husband.
"What did them fellows want?" she demanded. "I knew one of 'em--Prydale,the detective. Now what's up, Reuben? More trouble?"
Murgatroyd hesitated a moment. Then he told his wife the whole storyconcealing nothing.
"If they go to the Royal Atlantic, it'll all come out," he groaned. "Icouldn't make any excuse or explanation--anyhow! What's to be done?"
"You should ha' had naught to do wi' that Pratt!" exclaimed Mrs.Murgatroyd. "A scoundrelly fellow, to come and tempt poor folk to do hisdirty work! Where's the money?"
"Locked up!" answered Murgatroyd. "I haven't touched a penny of it. Ithought I'd wait a bit and see if aught happened. But he assured me itwas all right, and you know as well as I do that a hundred pound doesn'tcome our way every day. We want money!"
"Not at that price!" said his wife. "You can pay too much for money, mylad! I wish you'd told me what that Pratt was after--he should haveheard a bit o' my tongue! If I'd only known----"
Just then the shop door opened, and Pratt walked in. He at once sawMurgatroyd and his wife standing between shop and parlour, and realizedat a glance that his secret in this instance was his no longer.
 
; "Well?" he said, walking up to the watchmaker. "You've had Prydalehere--and you'd Eldrick this morning. Of course, you knew what to say toboth?"
"I wish we'd never had you here last night, young man!" exclaimed Mrs.Murgatroyd fiercely. "What right have you to come here, making troublefor folk that's got plenty already? But at any rate, ours was honesttrouble. Yours is like to land my husband in dishonesty--if it hasn'tdone so already! And if my husband had only spoken to me----"
"Just let your husband speak a bit now," interrupted Pratt, almostinsolently. "It's you that's making all the trouble or noise, anyhow!There's naught to fuss about, missis. What's upset you, Murgatroyd?"
"They're going to the Royal Atlantic people," muttered the watchmaker."Of course, it'll all come out, then. They know that I never booked anyParsons--nor anybody else for that matter--last November. You should ha'thought o' that!"
Pratt realized that the man was right. He had never thought ofthat--never anticipated that inquiry would go beyond Murgatroyd. But hiskeen wits at once set to work.
"What's the system?" he asked quickly. "Tell me--what's done when youbook anybody like that? Come on!--explain, quick!"
Murgatroyd turned to a drawer and pulled out a book and some papers."It's simple enough," he said. "I've this book of forms, d'ye see? Ifill up this form--sort of ticket or pass for the passenger, and hand itto him--it's a receipt as well, to him. Then I enter the sameparticulars on that counterfoil. Then I fill up one of these papers,giving just the same particulars, and post it at once to the Companywith the passage money, less my commission. When one of these books isfinished, I return the counterfoils to Liverpool--they check 'em.Prydale's up to all that. He asked to see the counterfoil in this case.I had to say I hadn't got it--I'd sent it to the Company. Of course,he'll find out that I didn't."
"Lies!" said Mrs. Murgatroyd, vindictively. "And they didn't start wi'us neither!"
"Who was that other man with Prydale?" asked Pratt.
"London detective, I should say," answered the watchmaker. "And judgingby the way he watched me, a sharp 'un, too!"
"What impression did you get--altogether?" demanded Pratt.
"Why!--that they're going to sift this affair--whatever it is--rightdown to the bottom!" exclaimed Murgatroyd. "They're either going to findParrawhite or get to know what became of him. That's my impression. Andwhat am I going to do, now! This'll lose me what bit of business I'vedone with yon shipping firm."
"Nothing of the sort!" answered Pratt scornfully. "Don't be a fool!You're all right. You listen to me. You write--straight off--to theRoyal Atlantic. Tell 'em you had some inquiry made about a man namedParsons, who booked a passage with you for New York last November. Saythat on looking up your books you found that you unaccountably forgot tosend them the forms for him and his passage money. Make out a form forthat date, and crumple it up--as if it had been left lying in a drawer.Enclose the money in it--here, I'll give you ten pounds to cover it," hewent on, drawing a bank-note from his purse. "Get it off at once--you'vetime now--plenty--to catch the night-mail at the General. And then, d'yesee, you're all right. It's only a case then--as far as you'reconcerned--of forgetfulness. What's that?--we all forget something inbusiness, now and then. They'll overlook that--when they get the money."
"Aye, but you're forgetting something now!" remarked Murgatroyd. "You'reforgetting this--no such passenger ever went! They'll know that by theirpassenger lists."
"What the devil has that to do with it?" snarled Pratt impatiently."What the devil do we care whether any such passenger went or not? Allthat you're concerned about is to prove that you issued a ticket toParrawhite, under the name of Parsons. What's it matter to you whereParrawhite, _alias_ Parsons, went, when he'd once left your shop? Younaturally thought he'd go straight to the Lancashire and YorkshireStation, on his way to Liverpool and New York! But, for aught you know,he may have fallen down a drain pipe in the next street! Don't you see,man? There's nothing, there's nobody, not all the detectives in Londonand Barford, can prove that you didn't issue a ticket to Parrawhite onthat date? It isn't up to you to prove that you did!--it's up to them toprove that you didn't! And--they can't. It's impossible. You get thatletter off--at once--to Liverpool, with that money inside it, and you'reas safe as houses--and your hundred pounds as well. Get it done! And ifthose chaps come asking any more questions, tell 'em you're not going toanswer a single one! Mind you!--do what I tell you, and you're safe!"
With that Pratt walked out of the shop and went off towards the centreof the town, inwardly raging and disturbed. It was very evident thatthese people meant to find Parrawhite, alive or dead; evident, too, thatthey had called in the aid of the Barford police. And in spite of allhis assurances to the watchmaker and his suggestion for the next move,Pratt was far from easy about the whole matter. He would have beeneasier if he had known who Prydale's companion was--probably he was, asMurgatroyd had suggested, a London detective who might have been makinginquiries in the town for some time and knew much more than he, Pratt,could surmise. That was the devil of the whole thing!--in Pratt'sopinion. Adept himself in working underground, he feared people whoadopted the same tactics. What was this stranger chap after? What did heknow? What was he doing? Had he let Eldrick know anything? Was there aweb of detectives already being spun around himself? Was that silly,unfortunate affair with Parrawhite being slowly brought to light--towreck him on the very beginning of what he meant to be a brilliantcareer? He cursed Parrawhite again and again as he left Peel Row behindhim.
The events of the day had made Pratt cautious as well as anxious. Hedecided to keep away from his lodgings that night, and when he reachedthe centre of the town he took a room at a quiet hotel. He was up earlynext morning; he had breakfasted by eight o'clock; by half-past eight hewas at his office. And in his letter-box he found one letter--a thickishpackage which had not come by post, but had been dropped in by hand, andwas merely addressed to Mr. Pratt.
Pratt tore that package open with a conviction of imminent disaster. Hepulled out a sheet of cheap note-paper--and a wad of bank-notes. Hisface worked curiously as he read a few lines, scrawled in illiterate,female handwriting.
"MR PRATT,--My husband and me don't want any more to do with either you or your money which it is enclosed. Been honest up to now though poor, and intending to remain so our purpose is to make a clean breast of everything to the police first thing tomorrow morning for which you have nobody but yourself to blame for wickedness in tempting poor people to do wrong.
"Yours, MRS. MURGATROYD."