CHAPTER III
Signing On
For some minutes "Joystick" remained silent, enjoying the obvious astonishment of the trio.
"You need not introduce yourselves," he continued. "You are Robert Beverley; you are Jack Villiers, and you are Alec Claverhouse—I presume you pronounce your name in Scots' fashion."
"You are a veritable Sherlock Holmes," declared Villiers.
The other raised a hand deprecatingly.
"I cannot aspire to that degree of intelligence," he remarked. "So, to remove misunderstandings, I will explain. You said you had an appointment at Southampton at three. I mentioned Richborough Chambers, and then you asked if I knew 'Joystick'. Amongst many applications for an interview I had a joint letter signed by you three fellows. I heard Beverley called by name. That accounted for one of you, and left two—Villiers and Claverhouse. One looked like a naval man, the other did not, but he had an accent that hails from north of the Tweed. Simple, eh? and, by the by, since I know your names, there is no reason why I should screen myself under a nom-de-plume or nom-de-guerre, or whatever you like to call it. I'm called Harborough—Hugh Harborough."
"Late Lieutenant-Commander, R.N.V.R.?" asked Villiers.
"Correct," was the reply.
"And Sir Hugh Harborough," continued Jack.
"I believe I have a handle to my name," replied the baronet, smiling. "However, that's a detail. I didn't ask for it. A fellow cannot be responsible for the deeds: or misdeeds of his great-great-grandfather."
"That excuse cannot apply to your D.S.O.," urged Villiers, following up his attack.
It was Sir Hugh's turn to look astonished.
"How do you know that?" he asked.
"Merely because I happened to know a fellow in the Inchlellan Patrol who had been transferred from Poldene. He knew you. Carruthers is his name."
"Good man, Carruthers," exclaimed Sir Hugh. "I'd like to meet him again. But this isn't Southampton. What do you say to an alteration of plan? Come back to 'Thalassa Towers' and have lunch with me. Then, if you don't mind running me into Southampton, I can interview some more fellows at 3.30. It's only a matter of eight and a half miles to my place."
It was Alec Claverhouse who was the first to agree to the revised programme, and since he was in charge of the "Odouresque" Company's car it was only right that he should take the responsibility of delaying its return. Provided the car was returned to the works and reported "passed for road work" by three o'clock there would be no cause for anxiety on the part of the officials of the company.
"Any objection to a speed burst, Sir Hugh?" he asked.
"None whatever," was the reply. "What'll she do?"
For answer Alec let the car all out. She was soon doing seventy-five, while Beverley, on the twin "Mephisto" was almost out of sight far astern. But Beverley was cautious in most things, and on a strange mount he did not feel inclined to give the engine full throttle.
"To the left at the fork roads," cautioned the baronet. "Hadn't you better let Beverley reduce station a bit? No, I don't think the footpads will molest him. It was this they were after, I fancy."
And he tapped the attaché-case at his side.
A quarter of an hour later the "Odouresque" was sweeping along the extensive drive leading to Thalassa Towers, with the "Mephisto" fifty yards behind.
"Make yourselves at home, and please drop all formality," said the baronet. "This isn't a Service stunt, and personally I'm dead set on red tape. Had quite enough of that the last four years. 'Fraid the place is rather in a muddle. You see, I only succeeded to the title in '15, when my elder brother went under at Ypres, and I haven't spent much time at the old show since."
"I like his idea of a muddle," thought Beverley, as a well-served lunch was being quickly provided, although at short notice. There seemed an abundance of servants, and, what was somewhat remarkable, there was a large touring-car and a light run-about in the garage. Why then did Sir Hugh risk his neck on a motor-cycle?
Harborough personally led the way to a bath-room, and then, excusing himself, disappeared for a few minutes to return divested of his mackintosh overalls.
He was of average build, bronzed complexion, with heavy jaw and cheek bones. His eyebrows were thick and bushy, extending in an almost continuous straight line below a forehead of medium height. His iron-grey hair was close-cropped and grew low on his temples. When he smiled, which was rarely, a double row of even white teeth rather toned down an otherwise blunt, determined, and somewhat reckless-looking face.
Instinctively the three chums felt that Sir Hugh was "sizing them up" before broaching the important subject. He put them entirely at their ease, chatting casually on common-place subjects during lunch, but the while there was the feeling that every question he asked, however simple, was with the object of plumbing the minds of his guests.
Villiers tried to "draw him" on the matter of the idle motor-cars, but the baronet avoided the subject adroitly yet without any suspicion of awkwardness, and the conversation drifted through the merits of No. 6 shot for rabbit-shooting and the prospects of next year's yachting to a discussion on heavier versus lighter-than-air machines.
"Suppose we make tracks for the smoking-room?" suggested Sir Hugh, when lunch was finished.
The smoking-room was cosily furnished in old oak, and like the rest of the rooms on the ground floor the windows were heavily barred. There were also steel shutters, opening and folding inwards against the sides of the deep window-recesses. Both bars and shutters were unmistakably recent additions.
The baronet motioned to his guests to seat themselves, and handed cigarettes. Then placing the attaché-case on the table he took up his position on the hearthrug, leaning against the carved mantelpiece.
"Now to business," he began abruptly. "I'm not asking for recruits for a filibustering expedition, piracy, or any of that sort of work. I'm taking on a speculative but above-board deal, which will involve hard work, peril, and perhaps losing the number of your mess. I believe you, Claverhouse, would term the latter contingency 'Going West', but you know what I mean. Briefly, I hope to fish up a million and a half in bullion and specie, the principal part of the cargo of a ship sunk by von Spee's squadron somewhere in the Pacific. I know where that somewhere is; the exact position is recorded in a document lying in that attaché-case. Incidentally, I have good reason to believe that this morning's little affair was promoted by a clever scoundrel who is particularly anxious to obtain the secret and to see me safely out of the way. Those bars and shutters, which I noticed that you were admiring just now, are part of the defensive scheme; so you see, apart from the mere excitement of treasure-hunting, there is a subsidiary stratum of danger to add to the zest of the prospectors."
"That sounds promising, Sir Hugh," observed Villiers.
"And as to terms," continued the baronet. "Each member of the expedition—I propose to bring up the number to fifteen or eighteen—will be required to contribute two hundred and fifty pounds towards the cost. I will find the balance. Meals and quarters will be provided free, but there will be no guarantee that each member's capital will be returned. It won't even be secured. If, as I expect, the venture is a success, half the profit will be divided between my assistants plus their two hundred and fifty pounds, while I have the rest of the proceeds. Now, have you any remarks?"
"Seems quite O.K.," replied Claverhouse. "After all's said, two hundred and fifty pounds isn't much for a twelvemonth's travel with board and lodging thrown in, as we remarked when we saw your advertisement."
"There's more than that," said Sir Hugh. "The stake makes every man take the keenest interest in the work. He realizes that it's up to him to do his level best for his comrades and himself. I could, of course, engage a professional crew, but nowadays one can't depend upon paid labour whether ashore or afloat. This railway strike, for example, although the way the Government's tackling it was a complete surprise."
"We volunteered," remarked Villiers, "either for road or marine transport, but we were three amongst thousands and didn't have a sniff in. Motor jobs all snapped up and only a few fellows required for marine work."
"That's satisfactory from one point," said Harborough. "It shows that a considerable section of the community supposed to be relatively helpless can get a move on. The war has brought them out, as it were; helped them to find their feet. But that's where I was let down when my chauffeur struck suddenly. Driving a car isn't one of my accomplishments."
"We noticed you had a couple of cars," observed Beverley.
"And wondered accordingly, I presume," added Sir Hugh drily. "Let me explain. My chauffeur fellow wanted more pay, although I had raised his wages recently. Thought he had me under his thumb, so to speak, when the railway strike came, but I wasn't going to be bluffed. So he went off at once, presumably to join the taxi-driver crush in town. He'd make a fine brigand. I can drive a four-in-hand with credit. Took on the job of driving a stage-coach in Winnipeg fifteen years ago, and was glad to get four dollars a day for doing it. So you see, I've had my ups and downs in life, and I'm not sorry. Since I couldn't drive the car and there was no one on the spot to drive for me, I sent my gardener boy into Farnham to bring back a motor-bike. The 'Mephisto' was the only one he could get, and a hundred guineas at that, but you see, I'm always particular to keep my appointments. I mustn't forget the one at Southampton at three-thirty," he added, glancing at his watch. "Now, have I made myself sufficiently clear for the present? If you require time to think the proposition over, there is no immediate hurry for a day or so—say Monday morning."
"I'm on it," declared the impulsive Villiers.
"And I," added the hitherto deliberate Claverhouse.
Bobby Beverley hesitated.
"Out with it, man," exclaimed Harborough encouragingly. "Nothing like speaking your mind. What's the difficulty? Anything of a private nature?"
"Not at all, Sir Hugh," replied Beverley, flushing slightly under his tan. "I'd like to come, only——"
The baronet guessed the nature of the impediment. He was right, but he was too keen a judge of human nature to prompt the still hesitating youth.
"It's like this," resumed Bobby, plunging into details. "I can't very well raise that two hundred and fifty pounds without getting credit. I've a young brother to look after."
"How old?" inquired Harborough.
"Fifteen this month."
"H'm, beginning to think what he wants to be," commented the baronet. "What are you doing with him?"
"He's at boarding-school," answered Bobby. "I think he'll go in for motor-engineering. He wanted to have a shot for Sandhurst, but, unless something turns up, I can't run to it."
"Nothing like the Service for a healthy youngster, provided he's keen," commented Sir Hugh. "Wish I'd gone in for Osborne when I was a lad. Instead of that I got out of hand, and my governor packed me off to Canada to find my feet. I did," he added grimly.
The baronet glanced at his watch again, and then addressed Villiers.
"Can you drive a car?" he asked. "You can—good. Will you mind driving me in? Claverhouse can take his, and then I'll have something to get home in. Excuse me a moment while I get my gear."
He went out, taking the attaché-case with him. Villiers turned to his companions.
"Wonder if he's fixed up for the return journey?" he remarked. "Bobby, you thundering old ox, why the blazing Harry did you hedge? I'd have advanced you the ready like a shot."
"I know, old man," replied Beverley. "I'd jump at it, but there's Dick. I'm a non-starter."
"Tell you what——" began Villiers.
He got no further, for at that instant the door opened and Harborough appeared.
"Can you spare me a minute, Beverley?" he asked.
Beverley went out. His chums exchanged glances.
"It's a deal after all, old bean," remarked Claverhouse.
Bobby was absent not one but a good ten minutes. He returned with a radiant face, following the self-possessed Sir Hugh.
"Beverley has signed on," announced the baronet briefly.