Rayton: A Backwoods Mystery Part 36

"There's where he keeps his unG.o.dly secrets," he said. "Mind the corp, gentlemen, or it'll turn over in agony when we unlock the box. h.e.l.l! how I do wish the old sinner was alive to see it. I shouldn't wonder but we'll find some bones of dead men in that box."

"Where is the key?" asked Banks, s.h.i.+vering at Timothy's words and puffing nervously at a freshly lit cigar.

Timothy chuckled at the big man's discomfort and borrowed a strong knife from Jim Harley. He went to a mahogany secretary which stood at the head of the bed, opened the top drawer and applied the blade of the knife to the front of a secret compartment within the drawer. He turned in a moment and tossed a bunch of keys to Mr. Banks. Nash took the keys from the New Yorker's hands and knelt down before the chest. Jim Harley held the candle. The chest had three locks and each of the three called for a separate key. At last the heavy lid was freed and lifted. The top of the trunk was full of clothing. They lifted out a tray and found more clothing. They lifted out another tray and found, in the bottom of the chest, books, nautical instruments, a chart or two, a small bag of English gold, a brace of revolvers and a small iron dispatch-box. In the dispatch-box they found many doc.u.mentary proofs of the old man's claim to the style and t.i.tle of Captain John Edward Jackson. They found his s.h.i.+p-master's certificate, an appointment to the command of a gun-boat in the Brazilian navy, t.i.tle deeds to several mining properties in Brazil, a yellow clipping from a St. John newspaper recording the marriage of Captain Thomas Harley, and another reporting and commenting upon Harley's sudden and deplorable death at the hands of an unknown a.s.sa.s.sin.

"This little snake was the murderer. There can be no doubt about it,"

said Jim Harley.

"He is answering for it now," said Mr. Banks, quietly.

"I am afraid we must turn all these things over to the Crown," said Nash. "I don't know anything about the law; but I imagine it is the business of the Crown to take care of these things and look for heirs."

Mr. Banks nodded.

"I think the lawyers will find it a very pretty thing," he remarked. "As for Samson's Mill Settlement, it will become known to the world."

"But we'll burn these newspaper clippings," said Jim Harley, s.n.a.t.c.hing them up and crus.h.i.+ng them in his hand. "The murderer is dead and the curse is dead. We'll let the old story die, too."

"I wonder if the t.i.tle-deeds are straight," murmured Nash. "Can the Crown collect, do you think? I'll make out my bill for professional services, anyway."

"Heaven only knows what the lawyers will make of it," said Banks.

Harley thrust the sc.r.a.ps of old newspaper into the flame of the candle, and as the blaze crawled up and threw red wavers of light around the room, Banks and Nash jumped as if they were on springs, and old Timothy Fletcher let out a yell.

"I thought the old varment was a-fire already an' lookin' over my shoulder," explained Timothy, a minute later. He lit several more candles and led the way downstairs and into the dining-room. He got out a decanter of whisky, gla.s.ses and water. All four helped themselves to stiff doses. Nash took a sip, then raised his gla.s.s.

"The old bounder started all manner of mischief in this place, between friends and neighbors," he said, "but now he's dead we'll have a little peace. Here's to peace! I wish Reginald Rayton was here to shake hands with me."

"A very proper wish," said Mr. Banks. "The old rascal made fools of every mother's son of us."

"He was a wonder," said Timothy Fletcher. "This place will be dull as ditch water now. He was a great pot cracked, a great bottle busted. I hope he stays dead, that's all. What yarns he used to tell me, when I was his nurse at Fairville--afore he begun to pretend he was cured. I used to think they was all lies; but now I guess they was true--the most of them, anyhow. Of course I never stood for the Sultan of Turkey story.

An' he'd talk about the sea, an' foreign ports all smelly with sugar an'

rum an' spice, until I was pretty near ripe to run away an' sign on with some skipper. An' the adventures! To hear him, gentlemen, you'd swear that in all his v'yages he'd never gone ash.o.r.e without savin' the life of a beautiful woman nor glanced up at a window in the narrow street without havin' a rose or a letter chucked out to him. He was a wonder. Oh, yes, I admired his brains, even after I begun to hate him.

He was a good master to me for awhile after we left the mad-house--until he commenced rollin' me up in blankets every now an' agin' an' jumping on top of me when I was sound asleep, yowlin' like a moon-struck dog. I should have spoke about all them things to one of you gentlemen, I know; but I figgered as how he might grow out of them tricks some day an'

maybe remember me in his will. I'll miss him; but I ain't sorry to see the last of him, d.a.m.n him! I got my wages all safe--an' he paid me well."

CHAPTER XXII

IN THE WAY OF HAPPINESS

Captain Wigmore was buried in Samson's Mill Settlement, in a little graveyard on a spruce-sheltered slope behind the English church. A very young parson drove thirty miles to bury him; and as a Baptist minister had driven twenty miles for the same purpose a joint service was held.

"The old joker is safe buried, anyhow; an' I'm glad to know it," was Timothy Fletcher's comment at the side of the grave.

"I'll never dig him up, you may be sure," said Mr. Banks.

Mr. Banks returned to New York a few days after the funeral, but not before he had learned the date set by Nell Harley for her wedding. He promised to be on hand to give the groom away. Timothy Fletcher bought three big dogs for companions and continued to occupy the late captain's house as caretaker. The dogs always slept in the same room with him and he burned night lights by the score.

The Crown took charge of the late captain's properties and discovered half a dozen heirs in the persons of Brazilian ladies who had considered themselves widows for years past. The Crown had its troubles. The Brazilian government stepped in generously to share these troubles.

Lawyers set to work in several languages and divers systems of bookkeeping. What they made of it I don't know; but the wives were all discredited and proven null and void--and Dr. Nash's bill remains unpaid to this day.

Nell Harley and Reginald Rayton were married in June. Mr. Banks attended in a frock coat and silk hat that surpa.s.sed everything present in novelty and glory except the head-gear and coat of the groom. It was a wonderful wedding; and to top it, the young couple set out immediately for England to visit Reginald's people.

"That's what I call style, from first to last," said Mr. Samson. "Them's the kind of folk I like to a.s.sociate with, so long's they don't set in to a game of cards."

d.i.c.k Goodine married Maggie Leblanc in July.

Poker is never played now in Samson's Mill Settlement. Timothy Fletcher still lives in the house that n.o.body seems to own and that somehow has been overlooked by the Crown, the Brazilian Government and the lawyers in both languages. He works now and again for the Raytons or the Harleys. Reginald has bought more land and built a new house and several cottages. His farm is the largest, the best and the best-worked in the country. Mr. Banks visits the Raytons every October, for the shooting, and every June for the fis.h.i.+ng.

Davy Marsh is guiding over on the Tobique now. He never comes home to the settlement. I have heard that he is the most expensive guide on that river--but not the best, by a long shot.

Dr. Nash is still a bachelor. He dines twice a week with the Raytons, as a regular thing, and oftener when Mr. Banks is there. He is not a bad sort, when you really know him well, and he knows you; but of course he will always be something of an a.s.s.

THE END.