“At last!” I said, breaking the seal. “It’s from Green, the detective whom I put on to ferret out Mullen’s past. I told him that if he wanted to write he was to slip the letter into an envelope addressed to Muir at the Hogarth Club in Dover Street. He’s been long enough finding anything out. Let’s hear what he has to say, now he does condescend to write. It is dated from Baxenham, near Yarby. I knew the place well years ago—used to yacht round there as a lad. Nasty coast, too, with some curious currents and very dangerous sands. Here’s his letter.”
“Max Rissler, Esq.,
“Dear Sir,—When you asked me to see what I could find out about James Mullen I did not expect to turn up anything much in the way of trumps. But, sir, I always act honourable, and I have found something which I think is valuable. Sir, it is so valuable, and the reward offered for the capture of James Mullen is so big, that I cannot afford to part with the information to any one else. So I ask you, sir, as man to man, to let me withdraw from your service. The man that finds Mullen has got his fortune made, and what I have discovered ought to be worth twenty-five thousand pounds to me. Sir, I could have gone on taking your money as you allow for exs. and kept my mouth shut, but I want to act honourable, believing as you have always acted honourable by me. So, sir, I beg to give notice that I withdraw from your service as regards the aforesaid James Mullen, and hope you will not take offence. My exs. up to the present as I have drawn in your pay are thirty-one pound. Sir, if you will take my I O U, and I find Mullen, I will pay you back double money. But if you say you must have the money, I can get it. I hope you will take the I O U, as I want my money just now, and oblige. Sir, I am on the track.—Your obedient servant,
“James Bakewell Green.
“P. S.—My address is c/o Mrs. Brand, Elm Cottage, Baxenham.”
“What a rascal,” said Grant, when I had finished this letter. “He ought to say he’s on the make as well as on the track.”
“I don’t think he’s a rascal,” I answered. “I have always found him above board and square. If he is really on Mullen’s heels the temptation to turn his discovery to his own account is pretty strong. Twenty-five thousand pounds, not to speak of the kudos, isn’t made every day, my boy. It’s rather like shaking an apple-tree in order that somebody else may pick up the fruit,—to do the work and then see another man go off with the money-bags. No, I think he’s acted honourably in giving me due notice that he’s going to run the show himself, and in offering to return the ‘exs.’ as he calls them. Many men would have gone on taking the coin while working on their own account.”
“What are you going to do?” queried Grant.
“Run down to Baxenham to-morrow. I don’t suppose I shall get any change out of Green, but I may hear something that will help me to put two and two together in regard to our late visitor on the ‘Cuban Queen.’ As Green has been working on my money and in my service I shan’t feel any qualm of conscience in finding out his wonderful secret—if I can—and of making use of it if I do find it.”
Next morning I was up betimes to catch an early train to town and thence to Yarby, where I arrived late in the afternoon. Baxenham is a little village on the coast, some five miles distant, and the shortest way there from Yarby is by a footpath across the fields.