Johnny Ludlow Second Series Part 3

"Had the note been simply abstracted from the letter, we should be at no loss to understand that a thief had helped himself to it; but a thief would not put another note of the same value in its place," went on Rymer.

"Well, the facts are as I tell you, Mr. Rymer," returned Tod, impatient at being trammelled and having to tell so lame a tale. "One bank-note was taken out of the letter and another put in its place. We want you to help us unravel the mystery."

"I will help you to the utmost of my power," was Rymer's answer.

"But--are you sure you have told me the circ.u.mstances correctly?"

"Quite sure," answered Tod. "The thing was done between Worcester post-office and our house. How it was done, and by whom, is the question."

"You enclosed the note in the letter yourself at Worcester on Wednesday afternoon, and put it into the post-office: when we delivered the letter at Crabb Cot yesterday morning, you found the note inside had been taken out and another put in? These are the circ.u.mstances?"

"Precisely so. Except that it was not I who enclosed the note and took down its number, but Johnny Ludlow. The Worcester office disclaims all knowledge of the matter, and so we are thrown on this side of the journey. Did you go to the station yourself for the letter-bag, Rymer?"

"I did, sir. I brought it home and sorted the letters at that desk, ready for the two men to take out in the morning. I used to sort all the letters in the morning, London and others: but lately I've done what we call the local bags--which come in before bed-time--at night. It saves time in the morning."

"Do you recollect noticing the letter for Crabb Cot?"

"I think I noticed it. Yes, I feel sure I did. You see, there's often something or other for you, so that it's not remarkable. But I am sure I did notice the letter."

"No one could have got to it in the night?"

"What--here?" exclaimed Rymer, opening his eyes in surprise that such a question should be put. "No, certainly not. The letter-bags are locked up in this desk, and I keep the key about me."

"And you gave them as usual to Lee in the morning?"

Mr. Rymer knitted his patient brow the least in the world, as if he thought that Tod's pursuing these questions reflected some suspicion on himself. He answered very meekly--going over the whole from the first.

"When I brought the Worcester bag in on Wednesday night, I was at home alone: my wife and daughter happened to be spending the evening with some friends, and the servant had asked leave to go out. I sorted the letters, and locked them up as usual in one of the deep drawers of the desk. I never unlocked it again until the last thing in the morning, when the other letters that had come in were ready to go out, and the two men were waiting for them. The letter would be in Lee's packet, of course--which I delivered to him. But Lee is to be depended on: he would not tamper with it. That is the whole history so far as I am connected with it, Mr. Joseph Todhetley. I could not tell you more if I talked till mid-day."

"What's that, Thomas? Anything amiss with the letters?" called out a voice at this juncture, as the inner door opened, that shut out the kitchen.

I knew it. Knew it for Mrs. Rymer's. I didn't like her a bit: and how a refined man like Rymer (and he was so in all respects) could have made her his wife seemed to me to be a seven days' wonder. She had a nose as long as from Timberdale to Crabb Ravine; and her hair and face were red, and her flounces gaudy. As common a woman as you'd see in a summer's day, with a broad Brummagem accent. But she was very capable, and not unkindly natured. The worst Timberdale said of her was, that she had done her best to spoil that ugly son of hers.

Putting her head, ornamented with yellow curl-papers, round the door-post, she saw us seated there, and drew it away again. Her sleeves were rolled up, and she had on a coa.r.s.e ap.r.o.n; altogether was not dressed for company. Letting the door stand ajar, she asked again if anything was amiss, and went on with her work at the same time: which sounded like chopping suet. Mr. Rymer replied in a curt word or two, as if he felt annoyed she should interfere. She would not be put off: strong-minded women never are: and he had to give her the explanation.

A five-pound bank-note had been mysteriously lost out of a letter addressed to Mrs. Todhetley. The chopping stopped.

"Stolen out of it?"

"Well--yes; it may be said so."

"But why do you call it mysterious?"

Mr. Rymer said why. That the bank-note had not, in one sense, been stolen; since another of the same value had been subst.i.tuted for it.

Chop, chop, chop: Mrs. Rymer had begun again vigorously.

"I'd like to know who's to make top or tail of such a story as that,"

she called out presently. "_Has_ anything been lost, or not?"

"Yes, I tell you, Susannah: a five-pound note."

Forgetting her curl-papers and the ap.r.o.n, Mrs. Rymer came boldly inside the room, chopping-knife in hand, and requested further enlightenment.

We told her between us: she stood with her back against the door-post while she listened.

"When do you say this took place, young gents?"

"On Wednesday night, or Thursday morning. When the letter reached us at breakfast-time, the job was done."

She said no more then, but went back and chopped faster than ever. Tod and I had got up to go when she came in again.

"The odd part about it is their putting in a note for the same value,"

cried she. "I never heard of such a thing as that. Why not spend the other note, and make no bother over it?"

"You would be quite justified in doing so under the circ.u.mstances, Mr.

Todhetley," said the quieter husband.

"But we can't," returned Tod, hotly--and all but said more than he was to say.

"Why not?" asked she.

"Because it's not ours; there, Mrs. Rymer."

"Well, I know what I'd say--if the chance was given me," returned she, resenting Tod's manner. "That the note found in the letter was the one put into it at Worcester. Changed in the post! It does not stand to reason."

"But, my dear----" her husband was beginning.

"Now, Thomas Rymer, that's what I _think_: and so would you, if you had a grain of sense beyond a gander's. And now good-morning, young gents: my pudding won't get done for dinner at this rate."

Mr. Rymer came with us through the shop to the door. I shook hands with him: and Tod's nose went up in the air. But I think it lies in what you see a man is, by mind and nature, whether he is your equal, and you feel proud to think he is so--not in the fact of his wearing an ap.r.o.n. There are some lords in the land I wouldn't half care to shake hands with as I would with Thomas Rymer.

"I hope you will pardon me for reverting to my first opinion, Mr.

Todhetley," he said, turning to Tod--"but indeed I think there must be some mistake. Mrs. Rymer may be right--that the note found in the letter was the one put into it."

Tod flung away. The facts he had obstinately refused to believe at first, he had so fully adopted now, that any other opinion offended him.

He was in a pa.s.sion when I caught him up.

"To think that the pater should have sent us there like two fools, Johnny! Closing our mouths so that we could not speak the truth."

"Rymer only three parts believes it. His wife not at all."

"His wife be sugared! It's nothing to her. And all through the suggestion of that precious calf, Cole. Johnny, I think I shall act on my own judgment, and go back and tell Rymer the note was a stolen one."

"The pater told us not to."

"Stuff! Circ.u.mstances alter cases. He would have told it himself before he had been with Rymer two minutes. The man's hands are partly tied, you see; knowing only half the tale."

"Well, _I_ won't tell him."

"n.o.body asked you. Here goes. And the Squire will say I've done right."