Hard Pressed Part 26

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Matter enough," Copley growled. "It's all over, my friend. You can say good-bye to your dreams of fortune. If we can get away with a whole skin we shall be lucky. As far as I can make out, we have made ourselves liable for thirty or forty thousand pounds, and have nothing to pay it with."

"Well, that's all right," Foster said.

"Oh, is it? I suppose you will admit that if the Blenheim colt turns out fit and well for the Derby there is nothing to beat him."

"If he does turn out. But he won't."

"Oh, yes, he will. But I'll tell you the story and if you can show me some way out you are a cleverer man than I take you for."

Foster listened with deepest interest. He looked just as anxious and haggard as Copley by the time the story was finished. For a long time he sat gnawing his fingers.

"It's a facer," he said presently. "That horse will run, and he'll win, too, unless we can find some means of preventing him from starting. We _must_ find some means."

Copley threw up his hand impatiently.

"What's the good of talking that rot?" he said. "The age for getting at horses is past. That was done with years ago. Even the sporting writer wouldn't dare to use a situation like this. You must think of something better than that. If the worst comes to the worst we've got a few weeks to turn round between now and Derby day. Sir George owes me forty thousand pounds, which I must get without delay. It is no use thinking anything more about May Haredale. With that money we may be able to cover our loss or hedge and bring it down to a trifle. We shall have to be contented with what we make over the Mirst Park meeting. So long as Rickerby and that set are not suspicious----"

"I begin to fear they are," Foster interrupted. "As you know, we ought to have had a big cheque last week, but it hasn't come, though I wrote a sharp letter about it again the day before yesterday. I don't know whether Rickerby suspects, or whether he will refuse to pay, but in the face of what you have learnt the non-receipt of that cheque is alarming.

Nor do I like what you say about Phillips and this chap Fielden.

Phillips is a dangerous man and owes us a grudge. Let's have Fielden in.

We may be able to bully something out of him."

Copley jumped at the idea. He rang the bell and sent for Fielden, who appeared presently cool and collected, and ready to answer any questions.

"Look here," Copley said in his most overbearing manner, "I've been hearing things about you. I am told your name is not Field at all, but Fielden. Is that so?"

"That is quite correct," Harry said calmly.

"Then, what the devil do you mean by coming into my service under false pretences? No honest man----"

"I'll thank you not to take that tone with me," Fielden said. "We don't want to discuss the question of honesty. It is a subject on which you are not an authority. But I see you have found out everything and I may as well be candid. I entered your service because I had nothing to do. I a.s.sumed the name of Field, because I found n.o.body recognized me and I didn't want any of my old friends to know what I was doing. I suppose I am correct in a.s.suming that Sir George Haredale has told you everything.

Probably he has informed you that my partner in South Africa was Aaron Phillips. I need not ask if you know Aaron Phillips, because that would be superfluous. I never met either of you till I returned to England, but I know about you. Phillips knows more. I am also aware of the conspiracy for preventing the Blenheim colt from running in the Derby, but that scheme is frustrated. Have you any more to say?"

"This is a nice way to speak to an employer," Copley protested.

"It would be if I were still in your employ," Fielden retorted. "But I no longer consider myself your servant. There is no occasion for me to remain with you. Perhaps the next time we meet--but never mind about that."

Fielden turned curtly on his heel and left the room. The other two exchanged significant glances.

"Pretty cool," Foster muttered.

"Yes, and pretty sure of his ground, too," Copley replied. "I don't like it, Foster, I don't like it a bit. I have a feeling that those fellows know everything. It frightens me to think that Phillips has been lying low for so long. You may depend upon it he is up to some mischief. And now that you tell me you have not received Rickerby's cheque I feel all the more certain of it. Don't you think it would be as well to go over to The Nook and remove that telephone? It always struck me as a dangerous thing to leave it on the roof. You never know what inquisitive people there may be about. If anybody acquainted with racing only saw it they would be sure to make inquiries. We had better take the car and run over before it is dark. What do you say?"

Foster had no objection; in fact, he rather liked the idea. Half an hour later the car was crossing the country and before dusk the two reached their destination. They were later than they had expected in consequence of a breakdown on the road, but they seemed to be in time, for the house was quiet and deserted and, so far as they could see, n.o.body had been meddling with the telephone. Foster drew down the blinds and lit the gas. It had not occurred to him to lock the front door. There was no occasion for hurry and, after procuring a chest of tools, he started on his work, which presented few difficulties.

Then the door opened and two men walked deliberately into the hall.

Copley turned upon them with a snarl.

CHAPTER XLI

HOME AGAIN

"What do you mean by this?" Copley demanded.

The intruders were not in the least abashed. On the contrary, they had every evidence of being very sure of their ground. The foremost touched Copley on the shoulder.

"Mr. Raymond Copley, I believe?" he said politely.

"It would be foolish to deny it," Copley sneered.

"Very good, sir," the stranger went on. "And this other gentleman is Mr.

Foster?"

Foster nodded uneasily. He held the screwdriver he was using and waited for developments with white face and quivering lips.

"That being so, gentlemen," the stranger said, "I may as well introduce myself. I am Inspector Andrews of Scotland Yard and this is my a.s.sistant. We have a warrant for the arrest of both of you on the charge of obtaining a large sum of money by means of a trick from Mr. Selwyn and others in connection with race meetings at Mirst Park. The warrant was obtained on the information of Mr. Selwyn, and you will please consider yourselves my prisoners. Anything you say, of course, will be given in evidence against you."

Copley cursed himself under his breath. What a fool he had been to come here! The matter would have been bad enough if he had been arrested at Seton Manor, but to be taken here, to be identified in this fashion at The Nook was fatal. There was nothing for it in the circ.u.mstances but to try to bl.u.s.ter.

"This is an outrage," he exclaimed. "It is a mere tale to extort money from a man in my position. You haven't a sc.r.a.p of evidence to justify a proceeding like this."

"That remains to be proved, sir," the Inspector said quietly. "I may say that your accomplice, Captain Eversleigh, is already in custody and is volunteering all the information we require. We have also arrested the man Chaffey in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden. More than that, we have interviewed the National Telephone authorities, and they have not been reticent, either. Besides that, we can produce the agent who let this house and who has already identified you. Also, we have taken possession of the office of Jolly & Co., and your accomplice there is in our hands also. I don't think we have left anything undone. We motored to Seton Manor, but you had left just before we arrived. We kept you under observation till now. Come, Mr. Copley, nothing will be gained by taking this att.i.tude. I am telling you this in fairness to yourself so that you may know what you have to answer."

Copley was done and submitted quietly to have the handcuffs put upon his wrists. Foster seemed equally subdued. He advanced towards the Inspector's a.s.sistant, then suddenly lunged forward, brushed him aside, and darted through the door into the open air. Instantly he was lost in the thick bushes. Inspector Andrews shrugged his shoulders.

"You are to blame for that," he said. "No, it is no use following him just now. We must pick him up later. Mr. Copley, if you are quite ready we'll get back to London."

An hour later Copley was safely housed. By seven o'clock his name was ringing from one end of London to the other. At first the published details were meagre, but the extra specials contained fuller tidings.

They had managed to ferret out some racing particulars and to interview Rickerby, who was not in the least reticent. By ten o'clock Copley's arrest formed the one topic of conversation in the clubs. His name appeared largely on every poster and the South African millionaire found himself notorious.

The news even reached the ears of May Haredale and her friend Alice.

They had been treating themselves to the theatre in honour of recent events and paused on their way home to buy a paper. There was plenty to discuss as they partook of their frugal supper and they sat till late with the paper between them.

"You have had a lucky escape," Alice said.

"My father has," May replied. "I would never have married that man. I would have starved first. I never liked him and always felt there was something wrong about him. He won't trouble us any more and I only hope this terrible business won't upset my father."

"Don't let us talk any more about it," Alice said. "Let us think about nothing else but your going home again. I don't know how I shall manage to stay in London after this. My fortnight at Haredale Park spoilt me."

It is not necessary to say much about May's homecoming. Sir George met his daughter in the hall. He waited to say a few words to Alice Carden and then led May into the library.

"I hope you won't blame me, my child," he said. "I can say no more than that I am exceedingly sorry for what happened. It was only after you had gone that I realized what a brute I had been. I must have been mad. But I thought I was going to be turned out of the old home, and to marry Copley--pardon me for alluding to it--seemed such an easy way out of my difficulty. I know now that women don't regard these things from the same standpoint as men do and, of course, I believed Copley was in a strong position. I regarded him as honest and straightforward, otherwise----"