Sawn Off Part 42

"Uncle," cried Tom, "I have given you no cause to speak to me as you do."

"Well, perhaps not, my lad--perhaps not. I'd take it kindly of you and Hopper, then, if you'd clear the house and then go."

"I'll soon rid you of my company," said Fred. "Ta-ta, uncle. Good-bye, little Jess."

d.i.c.k's fist clenched as the young man approached him; and Tom saw that Jessie shrank from him as if with loathing, though she watched his movements with a strange, keen interest.

He laughed lightly as he pa.s.sed, and then started back, for the policeman placed his hands across from the bal.u.s.trade to the wall.

"One moment, please, Sir. This is your photograph, I think?"

He held up a card, but Fred struck it down and tried to leap past; but the policeman caught him in his arms and forced him back.

"Oh no, you don't, sir," said the constable, laughing. "E. Gilderoy, send your men down to keep the door. The fact is, Frederick Fraser, _alias_ Captain Leroux, _alias_ the Hon. Algernon Bracy, there's a warrant out against you, and two-fifty reward. We only knew this afternoon that you were F. Fraser, and you were to have been took this evening; but the job has fallen to us."

"Man, you are mad, or drunk."

"I dare say I am," said the constable, laughing; "but Mr Gilderoy and me means to have that two-fifty."

"Father--uncle--Tom! this is a lie--an imposition!" cried Fred, wildly glancing round for a means of escape, but seeing none.

"No, sir," said the constable; "it was them forged bills was lies and impositions."

"Constable, this is all nonsense--some trumped-up case!" cried Max. "An invention, perhaps, of the poor boy's uncle," he added malignantly.

"Oh no, it is not, sir; the game's been going on for close upon two years, only my gentleman here has been too clever to be caught. There's over two thou, been discounted. It's all tight."

"Fred," cried Max, "why don't you knock this lying scoundrel down?"

"Don't want to bruise my knuckles," said Fred carelessly. "There, the game's up, and I'm sick of it."

"What?" cried Max.

"It's all right," said Fred callously. "I had the cake, so I must pay for it."

"Reprobate!" cried Max furiously: "do you dare to own to my face that this is true?"

"True enough," said Fred, taking out his cigar-case. "I can smoke, I suppose, constable?"

"Oh yes, sir, and make much of it," said the man, grinning. "I don't suppose you'll get another--not just yet."

"Good heavens, that it should come to this!" cried Max, raising his hands toward the ceiling. "Lost, depraved, reckless boy! you bring down your father's grey hairs with sorrow to the grave."

"What!" shrieked Fred, with a sneering laugh.

"After the Christian home in which you have been brought up!"

"Look here!" cried Fred. "Slang me, if you like, for being an unlucky scoundrel; but, curse it, give me none of your sickly cant."

"Away with him, constable. Out of my sight, wretch! I disown and curse you!" cried Max.

"Take your curse back," shrieked Fred savagely. "Example!--Christian home! What of the office? What has been done there? Where is Violante's money?"

Max stepped back with his jaw fallen.

"Where is the hundred pounds the old man in Australia sent for Uncle d.i.c.k? Example, indeed!"

"What?" shouted d.i.c.k, starting forward. "Say that again."

"Say it again!" shrieked Fred, who was now mad with rage: "I say two two hundreds were sent by an old relative in Australia for you and him, and he kept them both."

"It's a lie--a base lie!" cried Max, foaming at the mouth.

"Oh, Max, Max, Max," said d.i.c.k sadly, "and when I was close to starving!"

"It's a lie, I say!"

"It's the truth, you pitiful scoundrel!" said old Hopper. "But I made you disgorge some of it again, and sent it into the right channel."

"What, you turn against me, too!" said Max, with a groan. "I say it's a lie--a conspiracy. No money was sent: there was no uncle to send it."

"No?" said Hopper quietly. "Well, I can prove it all; for I sent the money, for the sake of d.i.c.k here, and to try you both."

"I tell you it's a lie!" stammered Max, foaming at the mouth.

"You've got to prove it one," said Fred carelessly. "Come along, constable--let's be off. Here's my last half-crown. I'll go in a cab."

"Stop!" cried d.i.c.k excitedly. "I won't have it. I forgive Max. I forgive Fred here. I've plenty of money, constable. Can't it be squared? I'll--I'll pay the reward. Cash down."

"No, sir," said the constable; "not if you doubled it."

"But I will double it," cried d.i.c.k.

"Hold hard, uncle," said Fred, smiling. "It's no go. But you always were a trump--always. Thank you for it! Sorry I've disgraced you.

Tom, old man, it's all right. Uncle, it's all right about your little girl here. I came to-night, and she admitted me, thinking it was Tom; and as soon as I was inside I told her the police were after me, unless she could help me to escape. There's the bag inside, with her purse and the jewels she gave me to sell, watch and chain, and the rest of it; for I was off across the herring-pond if I could get away. Fetch it out."

Tom ran into Jessie's room, and brought out a little travelling bag which lay beneath the open window.

"I didn't like to jump it," said Fred, laughing. "It was too high: but I should try if I had another chance."

"Fred--brother!" cried Tom pa.s.sionately, as he held out his hand; and Fred seized it for a moment, and then flung it away.

"No, Tom; let me be: I've always been a bad one. As for you, Jessie-- G.o.d bless you! you were a little trump. I told her it would disgrace you all, and poor Tom, if I was taken; and she told a lie to save me.

Good-bye, little woman!" he said, holding out his hand.

Jessie ran forward and took it, and he tried to speak in a light, cavalier manner; but his voice faltered, and he had to make an effort to keep from breaking down.

"Good-bye, Fred," said Tom, stepping before him, as if to shake hands.

Then, forcing the little bag into his grasp, he whispered, "Run for it, lad--the window. I'll cover you--run."