Not on the Passenger List

by Unknown

  “Know anything about horse-racing?”

  “Nothing. Never touched it.”

  “You mean to say you’ve never seen a horserace?”

  “Never.”

  “What did you do before you came to me?”

  “I had not been in any employment for some time. I was once in business as a bird-fancier. I had bad luck and made no money in it. You ask me a great many questions, sir.”

  “I do. That’s because I’ve been turning things over in my mind. I want you to put your name to an agreement with me for three years. A pound a week. That’s a good offer. A man who’s been in business, and failed, ought to appreciate an absolute certainty like that.”

  “It would be the same kind of work?” Smeath asked.

  “Pretty much the same. When I’ve finished this tour I am thinking of settling down in London. I should employ you there.”

  “No, thank you, Mr Bellowes,” said Smeath. “I would rather not.”

  “Oh, all right,” said Bellowes. “Make an idiot of yourself, if you like. It doesn’t make a pin’shead of difference to me. I can easily find plenty of other men who would grab at it. I thought I was doing you a kindness. As you said yourself, chaps of your build don’t find it any too easy to get work.”

  “I will work for you for six months—possibly a month or two longer than that. But, afterwards, well, I wish to return to the bird-fancying again.”

  “No, you don’t,” said Bellowes, savagely. “If you can’t take my terms, you’re not going to make your own. If you won’t sign for three years, out you get! You’re talking like a fool, too. How can you go back to this rotten business in six months? D’you think you’re going to save the capital for it out of a pound a week?”

  “I have friends who might help me.”

  “Who are they?”

  “They are—well, they’re friends of mine. You will perhaps give me till to-morrow morning to think it over.”

  “Very well. If you’re not here by ten to-morrow morning to go round to the solicitor’s office with me, I’ve finished with you. Now then, I’m going to hypnotize you again.”

  “What for?”

  “Practice. Now then, look at me.”

  In a few moments Smeath sat with his eyes open, but fixed.

  “Tell me what you see?” asked Bellowes.

  “Nothing,” said Smeath. “I see nothing.”

  “Yes, you do,” said Bellowes. “There are horses with jockeys on them. They are racing. See? They get near the winning-post.”

  “Yes,” said Smeath, dully. “I see them, but it is through a mist and a long way off. Now they’re gone.”

  “Yesterday when I hypnotized you, you saw clearly. You actually described a race which afterwards took place. You gave me the colours. You gave me the names that the crowd shouted. You described how the favourite crossed his legs and fell. Can you do nothing of the kind to-day?”

  “No, not to-day. To-day I see other things.”

  “What?”

  “I see a street in London. There is a long row of sandwich-men. My name is on their boards. There are many fashionable people in the street. Expensive shops. Jewellers’ shops, picture-galleries. I can see you, too. You have just come into the street.”

  “Where have I come from?”

  “How can I tell? It may be your own house or offices. Your name is on a very small brass plate by the side of the door. You have got a fur coat on, and you are wearing a diamond pin. You get into a car. It is your own car, and you tell the man who opens the door for you to drive to the bank. You look very pleased and prosperous. Now the car starts. That is all. I can see no more.”

  Bellowes leaned forward and blew lightly on Smeath’s eyes. The tenseness of his muscles relaxed. He rubbed his eyes and stood up.

  “Do you know what you’ve been saying?” Bellowes asked.

  “I’ve been saying nothing,” said Smeath. “I have been asleep, as you know. You made me go to sleep.”

  Bellowes looked round the room. His eye fell on an empty cigarette-box, lying in the fender.

  “Pick that up, and hold it in your hands,” he said.

  Smeath looked surprised, but he did as he was told. There was a loose label on the box, and his fingers began to tear it off in small pieces.

  “Now then,” said Bellowes, “can you tell me anything about the man who had that box, and threw it down there?”

  “Of course I can’t. How should I be able to do that? It’s not possible.”

  “Very well,” said Bellowes. “I’m going to put you to sleep once more.”

  “I don’t like this,” whined Smeath. “There’s too much of it. It’s bad for one’s health.”

  “Nonsense! Look here, Smeath. I want you for three years, don’t I? Then I’m not likely to do anything that will injure your health. You’ll be all right.”

  When Bellowes had hypnotized Smeath, he again put the cigarette-box in his hands.

  “And now what do you see?” he asked.

  “This is quite clear. It is a short, thick-set man who takes the last cigarette out of the box and throws it down. As he smokes it, he walks up and down the room, frowning. He is puzzled about something. He takes out his pocket-book, and as he opens it a card drops to the floor.”

  “Can you see what’s on the card?”

  “Yes. It lies face upwards. The name is ‘Mr Vincent.’ And in the left-hand corner are the words ‘Criminal Investigation Department, Scotland Yard.’ Now he closes his note-book.”

  “What was written in it?”

  “I only saw one word—the name ‘Samuel’ .... Now a waiter comes into the room, and the man asks for a time-table.”

  Once more Bellowes restored Smeath to his normal state.

  “That’ll do,” he said. “That’s all for to-night. You can be off now, and think over that offer of mine.”

  At ten on the following morning Smeath kept his appointment. He said he would sign an agreement for two years only, and that he would want thirty shillings a week.

  “What makes you suddenly think you’re worth thirty shillings a week?”

  “I have no idea at all, but I know you need me very much. I have that feeling.”

  “It was three years I said, not two. If I pay you thirty shillings a week, you can sign for three years.”

  “I cannot. I want to get back to my birds. I will sign for thirty shillings a week for two years, or I will go away.”

  “Oh, very well,” growled Bellowes. “You’re an obstinate little devil. Have it your own way. I hope to goodness I’m not going to lose money over you. I’ve never paid more than a pound to an assistant before. By the way, Smeath, were you ever in London?”

  “Yes; several times.”

  “Do you know Piccadilly, or Bond Street, or Regent Street?”

  Smeath shook his head.

  “I have only passed through in going from one place to another. I know the names of those streets, but I’ve never been in them.”

  “Very well,” said Bellowes. “Come along with me, and we’ll fix up the agreement.”

  III

  About a month later Mr Bellowes, who had come up to London for the purpose, called at the office of Mr Tangent’s agency in Sussex Street.

  “Appointment,” said Bellowes, as he handed in his card, and was taken immediately into the inner office. Mr Tangent, a florid and slightly overdressed man of fifty, rose from his American desk to shake hands with him.

  “Well, my dear old boy,” said Tangent, “and how are you?”

  “Fit,” said Bellowes. “Remarkably fit.”

  “And what can I d
o for you? I had an inquiry the other day that brought you to my mind. It’s not much. A week, with a chance of an engagement if you catch on.”

  “Thanks, old man, but I don’t want it. I’ve got on to something a bit better. What I want from you is a hundred and fifty pounds.”

  Tangent laughed genially.

  “Long time since I’ve seen so much money as that. Well, well! What’s it for? Tell us the story.”

  “I’ve had a bit of luck, Tangent. I’ve got a man booked up to me for the next two years who is simply the most marvellous clairvoyant the world has ever seen.”

  “Clairvoyants aren’t going well,” said Tangent. “Most of them don’t make enough to pay for their rent and their ads. in the Sunday papers. The fact is there are too many of them. I don’t care what the line is—palmistry, crystal-gazing, psychometry, or what you like. There’s no money in it.”

  “Let’s talk sense. You say there’s no money in it? Do you remember when Merion fell, and a ten-to-one chance romped home?”

  “Remember it? I’ve good reason to. I’d backed Merion both ways, and didn’t see how I was going to lose.”

  “Well, I backed the winner. Not being a Croesus like yourself, I only had five bob on. I backed him, because my clairvoyant saw the whole thing, and described it to me before the race was run.”

  “Can he do it again?”

  “He has not been able to do it again yet. He has seen what happened in the past many times, and he has never been wrong. He is exceptional. He is only clairvoyant when he is hypnotized. In the normal state he sees nothing. He’s an ugly little devil, a dwarf, and if I bring him to London he’ll make a sensation. What’s more, he’ll make money. Pots of money. I know the crowd you’ve been talking about. They’re a hit-or-miss lot. They’re no good. This is something quite different. We shall have all the Society women paying any fee I like to consult him. There’s a fortune in it.”

  Tangent lit a cigarette, and pushed the box across to Bellowes. “What is it you propose to do?” he asked.

  “Rooms in Bond Street. Good furniture. Uniformed servant. Sandwich-men at first. Once the thing gets started, it will go by itself. Any woman who has consulted him once is absolutely bound to tell all her friends. The man’s a miracle. I’ll tell you another thing I’m going to do. When the next sensational murder turns up, and Scotland Yard can’t put their hands on the man who did it, I’m going to turn my chap on to the job. I’ll bet all I’ve got to sixpence that we find the man.”

  “There was the case of that girl—Esther Samuel.”

  “Yes, I remember that. But by this time most of the public have forgotten it. A better chance is bound to turn up soon.”

  “I don’t see how you’re going to start on a hundred and fifty.”

  “I’m not, my boy. I’ve got money of my own that I’m putting into it as well.”

  “Let’s see,” said Tangent, picking up a pencil. “What did you say was this man’s name and address?”

  Bellowes laughed. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said. “At present that’s my business. Make it your own business as well and you shall be told everything.”

  “I don’t know why you should call it business at all. You ask me to lend you a hundred and fifty. You offer no security. All I’ve got is your story that you’ve found a clairvoyant who’s really good.”

  “Very well. If you satisfied yourself that the man was really good, would you lend the money then?”

  “On terms, yes. But they’d have to be satisfactory terms.”

  “They would be. Well, you shall see for yourself. The man’s waiting in a cab downstairs.”

  “You might have said that before.”

  “Why? Anyhow, I’ll go and bring him up now.”

  It was a chilly morning, and Smeath shivered in a thick overcoat, which he refused to remove. No time was wasted on preliminaries. Bellowes hypnotized him at once.

  “Now then, my boy,” said Bellowes. “You shall see for yourself. Give me any article which you or someone else has worn, or has frequently handled.”

  Tangent opened a drawer in his desk, and produced a lady’s glove. “That,” he said, “was left in my office a week ago. Let’s see what he makes out of it.”

  Bellowes put the glove in Smeath’s hands. Smeath began to pull the buttons off it. He dragged and tore at the glove like a wild animal at its prey. Then suddenly he began to speak.

  “I see a handsome woman with bright golden hair. I think the hair has been dyed. It has that appearance. She is talking with Mr What’s-his-name in this room. Each is angry with the other. She is accusing him of something. Suddenly—yes—she picks up an ink-bottle and throws it at him. Ink all over the place. He bangs on a little bell, and a man comes in who looks like a clerk. That is all. I cannot see any more.”

  “Wake him up and send him down to the cab again,” said Tangent. “Then we can talk.”

  “Now,” said Bellowes, when they were alone together. “Had he got that right?”

  “Absolutely. The woman was Cora Vendall. She wanted a particular berth, and thought I ought to have got it for her. She’s fifty-six if she’s a day, and not in any way suitable for it. If I had proposed it, the people would simply have laughed at me. She did get into a blind fury with me, and she did throw the ink at me. She’s been made to pay for that, and she’s been told not to show her powdered nose inside my office again. Your man is remarkable, Bellowes. There can be no two opinions about it. There is certainly money in him.”

  “You will find the hundred and fifty, then?”

  “Yes, I’ll do that. Mind, I must have a word to say in the management. The right sort of people will have to be got to see that man. Once that has been done, I do believe you’re right, and the thing will go by itself.”

  “What interest do you want?”

  “I don’t want interest. What I do is to buy for a hundred and fifty pounds a share in your profits from your agreement with the clairvoyant.”

  “You shall have it. It’s a jolly good thing I’m putting into your way, Tangent. I had never meant to part with a share, and I’d sooner pay you fifteen per cent, on your money. However, if you insist, you can take a sixteenth.”

  “Rats!” said Mr Tangent, impolitely. “This is not everybody’s business. Step across to the Bank of England, and see how much they’ll advance you on it. There are three of us in it. Him and you and me. I’m going to take a third. Do just as you like about it. If I go into it I can make it a certainty. I can get the right people to see the man.”

  “A third’s too much. You must be reasonable, Tangent. I discovered him.”

  “A man once discovered a gold-mine. He had no means of getting the gold out. He was a thousand miles from anywhere, and he was all alone. He died on the top of his blessed goldmine. However, I’m not arguing. I’m simply telling you. Give me a third, and my cheque and the agreement will be ready this time to-morrow morning. Otherwise, no business.”

  Mr Bellowes hesitated, and then gave in.

  IV

  At six o’clock on a summer evening, in a well-furnished room that overlooked the traffic of Bond Street, Smeath and his employer sat and quarrelled together. Both of them wore new clothes, but Bellowes had the air of prosperity, and Smeath had not.

  “It’s no good to talk to me,” whined Smeath. “I know what I’m saying. Where an essential consideration has been intentionally concealed, an agreement cannot stand. You never told me I was a clairvoyant.”

  “No,” said Bellowes, “I did not. And I don’t tell a man what the colour of his hair is, either. Why? Because he knows it already. You knew that you were a clairvoyant.”

  “I did not. I swear I did not!” said Smeath, raising his voice.

 
; “Now, don’t get excited. Don’t squeal.”

  “I’m not squealing. Do you think that if I’d known, I would ever have come to you for a wage like that? We’ve had fourteen people here to-day. What did they pay?”

  “Mind your own business!”

  “But it is my own business. And as you wouldn’t tell me, I’ve taken my own steps to find out. Not one of them paid less than a guinea. You had as much as five guineas from some. And here am I with thirty shillings a week. I can get that agreement set aside. I can prove what I’m saying. I had never been hypnotized until I met you.”

  “Look here,” said Bellowes. “Let us get this fixed up once for all. I don’t know who’s been cramming you up with these fairy-tales about my fees, but I don’t get what you think, or anything like it. I get so little, that I don’t want to waste any of it on lawyers. Besides, it would do the business no good, and it would do you no good. I should leave you, and then where would you be? Remember that you are not clairvoyant until I make you clairvoyant.”

  “You think, perhaps, I have not read what the newspapers say about me? I can find a hundred hypnotists very easily. But there is no other man who’s clairvoyant as I am.”

  “And there is no other man who can run a show as I can. Who brought the newspaper men here? Who paid for the advertisements? Who did pretty well everything? However, I’m not going to argue. If you want more money, you can have it. Name your figure. If it is in any way reasonable, you shall have it, on the understanding that this is the last advance you get. If it is unreasonable, you’ll get nothing. You can take the thing into the Courts, and I’ll fight it. And, mark my words, Smeath. If I do, you may get a surprise. You know nothing at all about hypnotism. You may find yourself in the witness-box saying things that you did not intend to say. Now, then, name your figure.”

  The little man took time to think it over. He rubbed his chin with his fingers reflectively. He seemed on the point of speaking, and then stopped. Suddenly he snapped out:

  “I want four pounds a week!”