The Talleyrand Maxim Part 22

"Parrawhite," said Eldrick reflectively, "was a big newspaper reader. He used to go to the Free Library reading-room a great deal. I begin to think he must certainly be dead--or locked up. However, in supplement of your endeavours, I did a little work of my own last night. There you are!" he went on, picking up the local papers and handing them over. "I put that in--we'll see if any response comes. But now a word, Mr. Byner, since you've come to me. You have heard me mention my late clerk--Pratt?"

"Yes," answered Byner.

"Pratt has left us, and is in business as a sort of estate agent in the next street," continued Eldrick. "Now I have particular reasons--most particular reasons!--why Pratt should remain in absolute ignorance of your presence in the town. If you should happen to come across him--as you may, for though there are a quarter of a million of us here, it's a small place, compared with London--don't let him know your business."

"I'm not very likely to do that, Mr. Eldrick," remarked Byner quietly.

"Aye, but you don't take my meaning," said Eldrick eagerly. "I mean this--it's just possible that Pratt may see that advertis.e.m.e.nt of yours, and that he may write to your firm. In that case, as he's here, and you're here, your partner would send his letter to you. Don't deal with it--here. Don't--if you should come across Pratt, even let him know your name!"

"When I've a job of this sort," replied Byner, "I don't let anybody know my name--except people like you. When I register at one of your hotels presently, I shall be Mr. Black of London. But--if this Pratt wanted to give any information about Parrawhite, he'd give it to you, surely, now that you've advertised."

"No, he wouldn't!" a.s.serted Eldrick. "Why? Because he's told me all he knows--or says he knows--already!"

The inquiry agent looked keenly at the solicitor for a moment during which they both kept silence. Then Byner smiled.

"You said--'or says he knows,'" he remarked. "Do you think he didn't tell the truth about Parrawhite?"

"I should say--now--it's quite likely he didn't," answered Eldrick. "The truth is, I'm making some inquiry myself about Pratt--and I don't want this to interfere with it. You keep me informed of what you find out, and I'll help you all I can while you're here. It may be----"

A clerk came into the room and looked at his master.

"Mr. George Pickard, of the _Green Man_ at Whitcliffe, sir," he said.

"Well?" asked Eldrick.

"Wants to see you about that advertis.e.m.e.nt in the paper this morning, sir," continued the clerk.

Eldrick looked at Byner and smiled significantly. Then he turned towards the door.

"Bring Mr. Pickard in," he said.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE CONFIDING LANDLORD

The clerk presently ushered in a short, thick-set, round-faced man, apparently of thirty to thirty-five years of age, whose chief personal characteristics lay in a pair of the smallest eyes ever set in a human countenance and a mere apology for a nose. But both nose and eyes combined somehow to communicate an idea of profound inquiry as the round face in which they were placed turned from the solicitor to the man from London, and a podgy forefinger was lifted to a red forehead.

"Servant, gentlemen," said the visitor. "Fine morning for the time of year!"

"Take a chair, Mr. Pickard," replied Eldrick. "Let me see--from the _Green Man_, at Whitcliffe, I believe?"

"Landlord, sir--had that house a many years," answered Pickard, as he took a seat near the wall. "Seven year come next Michaelmas, any road."

"Just so--and you want to see me about the advertis.e.m.e.nt in this morning's paper?" continued Eldrick. "What about it--now?"

The landlord looked at Eldrick and then at Eldrick's companion. The solicitor understood that look: it meant that what his caller had to say was of a private nature.

"It's all right, Mr. Pickard," he remarked rea.s.suringly. "This gentleman is here on just the same business--whatever you say will be treated as confidential--it'll go no further. You've something to tell about my late clerk, James Parrawhite."

Pickard, who had been nervously fingering a white billyc.o.c.k hat, now put it down on the floor and thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers as if to keep them safe while he talked.

"It's like this here," he answered. "When I saw that there advertis.e.m.e.nt in the paper this mornin', says I to my missus, 'I'll away,' I says, 'an' see Lawyer Eldrick about that there, this very day!' 'Cause you see, Mr. Eldrick, there is summat as I can tell about yon man 'at you mention--James Parrawhite. I've said nowt about it to n.o.body, up to now, 'cause it were private business atween him and me, as it were, but I lost money over it, and of course, ten pound is ten pound, gentlemen."

"Quite so," agreed Eldrick, "And you shall have your ten pounds if you can tell anything useful."

"I don't know owt about it's being useful, sir, nor what use is to be made on it," said Pickard, "but I can tell you a bit o' truth, and you can do what you like wi' what I tell. But," he went on, lowering his voice and glancing at the door by which he had just entered, "there's another name 'at 'll have to be browt in--private, like. Name, as it so happens, o' one o' your clerks--t' head clerk, I'm given to understand--Mr. Pratt."

Eldrick showed no sign of surprise. But he continued to look significantly at Byner as he turned to the landlord.

"Mr. Pratt has left me," he said. "Left me three weeks ago. So you needn't be afraid, Mr. Pickard--say anything you like."

"Oh, I didn't know," remarked Pickard. "It's not oft that I come down in t' town, and we don't hear much Barford news up our way. Well, it's this here, Mr. Eldrick--you know where my place is, of course?"

Eldrick nodded, and turned to Byner.

"I'd better explain to you," he said. "Whitcliffe is an outlying part of the town, well up the hills--a sort of wayside hamlet with a lot of our famous stone quarries in its vicinity. The _Green Man_, of which our friend here is the landlord, is an old-fas.h.i.+oned tavern by the roadside--where people are rather fond of dropping in on a Sunday, I fancy, eh, Mr. Pickard?"

"You're right, sir," replied the landlord. "It makes a nice walk out on a Sunday. And it were on a Sunday, too, 'at I got to know this here James Parrawhite as you want to know summat about. He began coming to my place of a Sunday evenin', d'ye see, gentlemen?--he'd walk across t'

valley up there to Whitcliffe and stop an hour or two, enjoyin' hisself.

Well, now, as you're no doubt well aweer, Mr. Eldrick, he were a reight hand at talkin', were yon Parrawhite--he'd t' gift o' t' gab reight enough, and talked well an' all. And of course him an' me, we hed bits o' conversation at times, 'cause he come to t' house reg'lar and sometimes o' week-nights an' all. An' he tell'd me 'at he'd had a deal o' experience i' racin' matters--whether it were true or not, I couldn't say, but----"

"True enough!" said Eldrick. "He had."

"Well, so he said," continued Pickard, "and he was allus tellin' me 'at he could make a pile o' bra.s.s on t' turf if he only had capital. An' i'

t' end, he persuaded me to start what he called investin' money with him i' that way--i' plain language, it meant givin' him bra.s.s to put on horses 'at he said was goin' to win, d'ye understand?"

"Perfectly," replied Eldrick. "You gave him various amounts which he was to stake for you."

"Just so, sir! And at first," said Pickard, with a shake of the head, "at first I'd no great reason to grumble. He cert'ny wor a good hand at spottin' a winner. But as time went on, I' t' greatest difficulty in gettin' a settlement wi' him, d'ye see? He wor just as good a hand at makin' excuses as he wor at pickin' out winners--better, I think! I nivver knew wheer I was wi' him--he'd pay up, and then he'd persuade me to go in for another do wi' t' bra.s.s I'd won, and happen we should lose that time, and then of course we had to hev another investment to get back what we'd dropped, and so it went on. But t' end wor this here--last November theer wor about fifty to sixty pound o' mine i' his hands, and I wanted it. I'd a spirit merchant's bill to settle, and I wanted t' bra.s.s badly for that. I knew Parrawhite had been paid, d'ye see, by t' turf agent, 'at he betted wi', and I plagued him to hand t'

bra.s.s over to me. He made one excuse and then another--howsumivver, it come to that very day you're talkin' about i' your advertis.e.m.e.nt, Mr.

Eldrick--the twenty-third o' November----"

"Stop a minute, Mr. Pickard," interrupted Eldrick. "Now, how do you know--for a certainty--that this day you're going to talk about was the twenty-third of November?"

The landlord, who had removed his hands from his pockets, and was now twiddling a pair of fat thumbs as he talked, chuckled slyly.

"For a very good reason," he answered. "I had to pay that spirit bill I tell'd about just now on t' twenty-fourth, and that I'm going to tell you happened t' night afore t' twenty-fourth, so of course it were t'

twenty-third. D'ye see?"

"I see," a.s.serted Eldrick. "That'll do! And now--what did happen?"

"This here," replied Pickard. "On that night--t' twenty-third November--Parrawhite came into t' _Green Man_ at about, happen, half-past eight. He come into t' little private parlour to me, bold as bra.s.s--as indeed, he allers wor. 'Ye're a nice un!' I says. 'I've written yer three letters durin' t' last week, and ye've nivver answered one o' 'em!' 'I've come to answer i' person,' he says. 'There's n.o.bbut one answer I want,' says I. 'Wheer's my money?' 'Now then, be quiet a bit,' he says. 'You shall have your money before the evening's over,' he says. 'Or, if not, as soon as t' banks is open tomorrow mornin',' he says. 'Wheer's it coomin' from?' says I. 'Now, never you mind,' he says.

'It's safe!' 'I don't believe a word you're sayin',' says I. 'Ye're havin' me for t' mug!--that's about it.' An' I went on so at him, 'at i'