The Riddle of the Frozen Flame

by Thomas W. Hanshew and Mary E. Hanshew

  CHAPTER XXII

  A NEW DEPARTURE

  The question of packing was a very small matter altogether, and it wasbarely seven o'clock when, this finished, Cleek and Mr. Narkom hadcollected their coats and hats from the hat-stand, given Borkins thebenefit of their very original ideas as to closing up the house andclearing out of it as soon as possible, each of them slipped a sovereigninto his hand, and were standing talking a short while at the open frontdoor. The chill of the evening crept into the house in cold breaths,turning the gloomy hall into a good representation of a family vault.

  "All I can say," said Cleek, chewing a cigar, his hands in his trousers'pockets, and his feet rocking from toe to heel, "is--get out of it,Borkins, as soon as you can. I don't mind tellin' you, I'm jolly glad tobe clearin' out myself. It's been a devilish uncanny business from firstto last, and not much to my taste. Now, _I_ like a decent robbery or anice, quick-fingered forger that wants a bit of huntin' up. You know,even detectives have their particular favourites in the matter of crime,Borkins, and a beastly murder isn't exactly in _my_ line."

  Borkins laughed respectfully, rubbing his hands together.

  "Nor mine, sir," he made answer. "Though I must say you gentlemen 'aven'tbeen a bit what I imagined detectives to be. When you first come down,you know, I spotted something different about you, and--"

  "Ought to be on the Force yourself!" supplemented Cleek.

  "And not such a bad callin' neither!" returned Borkins with a grin. "ButI knew you wasn't what you said you was, in a manner of speakin'. And ifit 'adn't been for all this unpleasantness, it would 'ave bin a nicelittle change for yer, wouldn't it? Sorry to see the last of you, sirs,I am that. And that young gentleman of your'n. But I must say I'm glad tobe done of the business."

  Cleek blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

  "Oh, you'll have another dose of it before you're entirely finished!" heresponded. "When the case comes on in London. _That's_ the ticklish partof the business. We'll meet there again, I expect, as Mr. Lake and I willbe bound to give our evidence--which is a thankless task at the best oftimes.... Hello! Dollops, got the golf-clubs and walking-sticks? That'sa good lad. Now we'll be off to old London again--eh, Lake? Good-bye,Borkins. Best of luck."

  "Good-bye, gentlemen."

  The two men got into the taxi Dollops had procured for them, while thatworthy hopped on to the seat beside the driver and gave him the order to"Nip it for the eight o'clock train for Lunnon, as farst as you kin slideit, cabby!" To which the chauffeur made some equally pointed remark, andthey were off.

  But Borkins either did not realize that the eight-o'clock train forLondon was a slow one, or thought that it was the most convenient for thetwo gentlemen most interested, because he did not give a thought to thematter that that particular train stopped at the next station, some threemiles away from Fetchworth. And even if he had and could have seen thetwo tough-looking sailormen who descended from the first-classcompartment there and stepped on to the tiny platform among one or twoothers, he would never have dreamed of associating them with the Mr.Headland and his man Dollops who had such a short time ago left theTowers for London.

  Which is just as well, as it happened, for it was with Borkins that Cleekand Dollops were most concerned. Upon the probability of their friendshipwith the butler hung the chance of their getting work. They had left Mr.Narkom to go up to London and keep his eyes open for any clues in thebank robberies case, and had promised to report to him as soon aspossible, if there were anything to be gleaned at the factory. Mr. Narkomhad expressed his doubts about it, had told Cleek that he really did notsee how any human agency could possibly get Nigel Merriton off, with suchappalling evidence to damn him. And what an electrical factory could haveto do with it...!

  "You forget the good Borkins's connection with the affair," returnedCleek, a trifle sharply, "and you forget another thing. And that is, thatI have found the man who attempted my life, and mean eventually to cometo grips with him. That is the only reason why I did not speak at theinquest this afternoon. I am going to bide my time, but I'll have thebeggar in the end. If working for a time at an electrical factory isgoing to help on matters, then work there I'm going to, and Dollops withme....

  "If there should be need of me, don't forget that I am Bill Jones,sailorman, once of Jamaica, now of the Factory, Saltfleet. And stick tothe code. A wire will fetch me." He hopped out upon the platform justhere, in his "cut-throat" make-up--a little hastily done, for the timebetween the stations had been short--but excellent, nevertheless; then asMr. Narkom gripped his hand, he put his head into the carriage again.

  "My love to Ailsa if you see her, and tell her all goes well with me,like a good friend!" whispered Cleek, softly.

  Mr. Narkom nodded, waved his hand, and then the two navvies swung awayfrom the train, gave up their tickets to the porter--having procuredthird-class as well as first for just this very arrangement--and afterenquiring just how far it was to Saltfleet Bay, and learning that it wasa matter of "two mile and a 'arf by road, and a couple o' mile by thefields," strode off through the little gate and on to the highroad. Justhow adventurous their quest was going to turn out to be even they did notfully realize.

  They reached the outskirts of the bay, just as a clock in the churchtower half a mile away struck out nine, in deep-throated, sonorous tones.

  To the right of them the "Pig and Whistle" flaunted its lights and itsnoise, its hilarious laughter and its coarse-thrown jests. Cleek sighedas he turned toward it.

  "Now for it, boy," he said softly, and then started to whistle and tolaugh alternately, making his way across the cobbles to the brightly-litlittle pub. Someone ran to the doorway and peered out at sound of hisvoice, trying to penetrate the darkness and discover who the strangermight be thus gaily employed.

  Cleek sang out a greeting.

  "Good evenin' to yer, matey! This 'ers's Bill Jones and 'is pal. 'Ow,I'll tyke the 'ighroad, and you'll tyke the laow road! and I'll be inScotland afore yer'.... 'Ere, Sammie, me lad, come along o' me an' warmyer witals. I could drink the sea--strite I could!"

  He heard the man in the doorway laugh, and then he beckoned to him tocome along. And so they entered the "Pig and Whistle," and were greetedenthusiastically by the red-headed barmaid, while many voices went up togreet them, showing that already they had got on the right side of themen who were to be their fellow-workers.

  "Gen'leman 'ere yet?" queried Cleek, jerking his thumb in the directionwhere Borkins had stood the night before. "I've what you calls anappointment wiv 'im, yer know. And.... 'Ere the blighter is! Goodevenin', sir. Pleased ter see yer again, though lookin' a bit pale abahtthe gills, if yer don't mind my sayin' so."

  "And so would you be, if you'd been through the ordeal I 'ave thisafternoon," snapped out Borkins in reply. "It's a beastly job a-tellin'people what yer seen and 'eard. It is indeed!"

  "'Arder ter tell 'em wot you _'aven't_ seen an' 'eard, all the syme,matey," threw in Cleek. "Done that meself, I 'as--bit of sleight-o'-'andwhat they'd pulled me up for out Whitechapel way when I was a kid. Seein'the master ternight, ain't we, sir?"

  Borkins slopped down his tankard of beer and wiped his mouth beforereplying.

  "Seen him already," he answered with a touch of asperity, "and told'im about you both, I 'ave. 'E says you're ter go up to the foremantermorrow, say I sent you. Say the master 'as passed you, that'll beall right. Couple o' quid a week, and the chance of a rise if you'recircumspect and keeps yer mouth closed."

  "That's my gyme all right, guv'nor!" struck in Dollops shrilly, clappinghis tankard down upon the bar with a loud bang. "Close as 'ouses we are,guv'nor. An' me mate's like a hoyster."

  "Well, mind you remember it!" retorted Borkins sharply. "Or it'll gobadly with the pair of you. That's fixed, then, ain't it? What's yernames again? I've forgotten."

  "Bill Jones, an' 'im's Sammie Robinson," replied Cleek quickly. "I'm muchobliged to yer, sir. Any one know where we kin get a shake-down for thenight? Time enough ter look for lodgi
n's termorrer."

  It was the barmaid's turn to speak, and she rested her rather heavyperson against the bar and touched Cleek's shoulder.

  "Mother, she 'as lodgers, dearie," she said in a coaxing voice. "You kincome along to us, and stay right along, if you're comfortable. Nice bedswe 'ave, and a good 'ot dinner in the middle uv the day. You kin take yerbreakfast with us. Better come along to 'er ternight."

  "Thanks, I will," grunted Cleek in reply, and dug Dollops in the ribs,just to show him how pleased he was with the arrangement.

  And so the evening passed. The lodgings were taken, the charge beingmoderate for the kind of living that men in their walk of life were usedto, and the next morning found them both ensconced at their new work.

  The overseer proved to be a big, burly man, who, having received themessage from "the gentleman at the inn," immediately set them to work onthe machinery. The task was simple; they had merely to feed the machinewith so much raw material, and the other men and machines did the rest.But what pleased them more, they were put to work side by side. This gaveCleek a good opportunity of passing remarks now and then to Dollops andtelling him to take note of things.

  The factory was a smallish place, with not too large a payroll, and Cleekgleaned from that first morning's work that it was run solely for thepurpose of making electrical fittings.

  "Where do they ship 'em to, matey?" he asked his next-door neighbour,a pleasant-faced chap about twenty-three or four.

  "Over ter Belgium. Big firm there what buys from the master."

  "Oh?" So they were trading with Belgium, were they? That was interesting."Well, then, 'ow the dickens do they send 'em out?"

  "Boats, idiot!" The man's voice was full of contempt for the nincompoopwho couldn't use his head. Above the clang of the machinery Cleek's voicerose a trifle higher.

  "Well, any fellow would know _that_!" he said with a laugh. "But what Imeans is, what sort er boats? Big uns, I should sy, fer stuff like this."

  The man looked about him and bent his head. His voice dropped a note ortwo.

  "_Fishin'_ boats," he said softly, and could be made to say no more, inspite of the scornful laugh with which Cleek greeted this news.

  Fishing boats?... H'm. That was devilish peculiar. Sending out electricalfittings to Belgium in _fishing boats_! Funny sort of a way to do trade,though no doubt it was quite permissible up to a point. Well, he mustglean something more out of this good fellow before the day was over.

  A glass of beer at the "Pig and Whistle" after dinner worked wonders withthe man's tongue. He was not a favourite, so free drinks did not oftencome his way. After the second glass he seemed almost ready to sellhis soul to this amicable newcomer, but Cleek was wise, and bided histime. He didn't mean to fleece his man of the information in sight andsound of his fellows. So he simply talked of the topics of the day,discussed the labour question--from a new view-point--and then, as theystrolled back together to the factory, just as the whistle began to blowthat told the hands the dinner-hour was over, Cleek fired his first shot.

  "See 'ere, matey," he began confidentially, "you're a decent sort ofbloke, you are! Tell us a bit more about them there fishin' boats wot youspoke uv. I'm that interested, I've been fair eaten up with curiosity.Yer didn't mean the master of this plyce goes and ships electricalfittin's and such-like out to Belgium in _fishin'_ boats--strite, eh?"

  "Yus." Jenkins nodded. "That's exactly what I do mean. Seems sort erfunny, don't it? And I reckon there's somethin' a bit fishy about thewhole thing. But I keep me mouth shut. That overseer's the very devil'imself. Happen you'll larn ter do likewise. Two chaps who were 'erelarst thought they'd be a bit smarty like, and told 'im they were goin'ter tell all they knew--though God knows what it was! I ain't been ableto learn much, and haven't tried neither. But they went--zip! like that!Never saw 'em no more, and nothin' come of it.... Best to keep your mouthshut, mate. In this 'ere place, any'ow."

  "Oh," said Cleek off-handedly, "I'm not one to blab. You needn't beafraid o' that. By the way, who's the chap with the black mustachea-stragglin' all over 'is fyce? An' the narsty eye? Saw 'im with Borkins,the man wot engaged me night before last."

  "That wasn't Borkins, me beauty," returned Jenkins with a laugh. "Thatain't his name. 'Ow did you come ter think of it? That fellow's name'sPiggott. And the other man? We calls 'im Dirty Jim, because 'e does allthe dirty work for the boss; but 'is real name's Dobbs. And if you takesmy word for anything, pal, you won't go rubbin' 'im up the wrong way.'E's a fair devil!"

  H'm! "Dirty Jim," otherwise Jim Dobbs. And he was in the employment ofthis very extraordinary firm for the purpose of doing its "dirty work."Well, there seemed a good deal of employment for him, if that was thecase. And Borkins was _not_ Borkins in this part of the world.

  Cleek stepped back to his work a little thoughtful, a littleabsent-minded, until the frown upon his forehead caused Dollopsto lean over and whisper anxiously, "Nothin' the matter, is there, sir?"

  He shook his head rapidly.

  "No, boy, no. Simply thinking, and smelling a rat somewhere."

  "Been smellin' of it meself this parst two hours," returned Dollops ina sibilant whisper. His eye shone for a moment with the light of battle."Got summink ter tell you," he whispered under cover of the noise."Summink wot ought ter interest yer, I don't fink. 'Ave ter keep tillevenin'. Eh, Bill?"

  "Right you are, matey." Cleek's voice rose loudly as the overseer passed,pausing a moment to watch them at work. "Nice job this, I must sy. Arfterme own 'eart, strite it is. Soon catch on to it, don't yer?"

  "_Ra-ther!_" returned Dollops significantly.

  The overseer, with a shrug of the shoulders, moved on.