LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter 21

       Tommy Makes a Discovery

       Table of Contents

      FOR a moment or two they stood staring at each other stupidly, dazed with the shock. Somehow, inexplicably, Mr. Brown had forestalled them. Tommy accepted defeat quietly. Not so Julius.

      “How in tarnation did he get ahead of us? That’s what beats me!” he ended up.

      Tommy shook his head, and said dully:

      “It accounts for the stitches being new. We might have guessed… .”

      “Never mind the darned stitches. How did he get ahead of us? We hustled all we knew. It’s downright impossible for anyone to get here quicker than we did. And, anyway, how did he know? Do you reckon there was a dictaphone in Jane’s room? I guess there must have been.”

      But Tommy’s common sense pointed out objections.

      “No one could have known beforehand that she was going to be in that house—much less that particular room.”

      “That’s so,” admitted Julius. “Then one of the nurses was a crook and listened at the door. How’s that?”

      “I don’t see that it matters anyway,” said Tommy wearily. “He may have found out some months ago, and removed the papers, then——No, by Jove, that won’t wash! They’d have been published at once.”

      “Sure thing they would! No, some one’s got ahead of us to-day by an hour or so. But how they did it gets my goat.”

      “I wish that chap Peel Edgerton had been with us,” said Tommy thoughtfully.

      “Why?” Julius stared. “The mischief was done when we came.”

      “Yes——” Tommy hesitated. He could not explain his own feeling—the illogical idea that the K.C.‘s presence would somehow have averted the catastrophe. He reverted to his former point of view. “It’s no good arguing about how it was done. The game’s up. We’ve failed. There’s only one thing for me to do.”

      “What’s that?”

      “Get back to London as soon as possible. Mr. Carter must be warned. It’s only a matter of hours now before the blow falls. But, at any rate, he ought to know the worst.”

      The duty was an unpleasant one, but Tommy had no intention of shirking it. He must report his failure to Mr. Carter. After that his work was done. He took the midnight mail to London. Julius elected to stay the night at Holyhead.

      Half an hour after arrival, haggard and pale, Tommy stood before his chief.

      “I’ve come to report, sir. I’ve failed—failed badly.”

      Mr. Carter eyed him sharply.

      “You mean that the treaty——”

      “Is in the hands of Mr. Brown, sir.”

      “Ah!” said Mr. Carter quietly. The expression on his face did not change, but Tommy caught the flicker of despair in his eyes. It convinced him as nothing else had done that the outlook was hopeless.

      “Well,” said Mr. Carter after a minute or two, “we mustn’t sag at the knees, I suppose. I’m glad to know definitely. We must do what we can.”

      Through Tommy’s mind flashed the assurance: “It’s hopeless, and he knows it’s hopeless!”

      The other looked up at him.

      “Don’t take it to heart, lad,” he said kindly. “You did your best. You were up against one of the biggest brains of the century. And you came very near success. Remember that.”

      “Thank you, sir. It’s awfully decent of you.”

      “I blame myself. I have been blaming myself ever since I heard this other news.”

      Something in his tone attracted Tommy’s attention. A new fear gripped at his heart.

      “Is there—something more, sir?”

      “I’m afraid so,” said Mr. Carter gravely. He stretched out his hand to a sheet on the table.

      “Tuppence——?” faltered Tommy.

      “Read for yourself.”

      The typewritten words danced before his eyes. The description of a green toque, a coat with a handkerchief in the pocket marked P.L.C. He looked an agonized question at Mr. Carter. The latter replied to it: “Washed up on the Yorkshire coast—near Ebury. I’m afraid—it looks very much like foul play.”

      “My God!” gasped Tommy. “TUPPENCE! Those devils—I’ll never rest till I’ve got even with them! I’ll hunt them down! I’ll——”

      The pity on Mr. Carter’s face stopped him.

      “I know what you feel like, my poor boy. But it’s no good. You’ll waste your strength uselessly. It may sound harsh, but my advice to you is: Cut your losses. Time’s merciful. You’ll forget.”

      “Forget Tuppence? Never!”

      Mr. Carter shook his head.

      “So you think now. Well, it won’t bear thinking of—that brave little girl! I’m sorry about the whole business—confoundedly sorry.”

      Tommy came to himself with a start.

      “I’m taking up your time, sir,” he said with an effort. “There’s no need for you to blame yourself. I dare say we were a couple of young fools to take on such a job. You warned us all right. But I wish to God I’d been the one to get it in the neck. Good-bye, sir.”

      Back at the Ritz, Tommy packed up his few belongings mechanically, his thoughts far away. He was still bewildered by the introduction of tragedy into his cheerful commonplace existence. What fun they had had together, he and Tuppence! And now—oh, he couldn’t believe it—it couldn’t be true! TUPPENCE—DEAD! Little Tuppence, brimming over with life! It was a dream, a horrible dream. Nothing more.

      They brought him a note, a few kind words of sympathy from Peel Edgerton, who had read the news in the paper. (There had been a large headline: EX-V.A.D. FEARED DROWNED.) The letter ended with the offer of a post on a ranch in the Argentine, where Sir James had considerable interests.

      “Kind old beggar,” muttered Tommy, as he flung it aside.

      The

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