“Closet next, is it? Never mind, Dad, I’ll try not to shock you again. Haven’t had much hankering for closets since I got shut up in that hole over in Sydney. They called it a prison, but it was more like a potato-pit than anything else.”
“Sydney?” questioned the minister.
“Yes, Australia. You see, Mr. McGowan, I was a real prodigal for more than two years. Chased out to California after I graduated from Yale, and got mixed up out there in another fellow’s scrape. To save my skin I shipped on a freighter to Australia. Over there I tried to save another poor devil from the lock-up, and got in bad with the authorities. Yes, I was a real prodigal, always trying to help the other fellow out of trouble and getting the worst end of it every time. The only difference between me and the Bible chap was that Father did not heap treasure on me when I left, and didn’t kill the fatted calf when I returned.”
During this recital the Elder had fidgeted to the end of his chair. “I cannot see, son, why you persist in telling of your wickedness 64 to everybody. It’s a thing rather to be ashamed of.”
“I acknowledge that, Dad, but the closet idea suggested it to my mind. Then, perhaps, it’s not a bad idea for Mr. McGowan to know the worst side of me first. I spent about a week in that hole they called a prison,” he said turning to the minister, “and seven days there couldn’t be very easily effaced from my memory unless I went bugs and had an awful lapse. But the result was not so bad, for that place proved to be my swine-pen where I came to myself. It was just about as much like a pig-sty as any place I ever didn’t sleep in.... Do you happen to know anything about Sydney, Mr. McGowan?”
“Not much. I know it’s quite a trading center, but most of my information is second-hand.”
“It is the best trading center on the Australian coast. An odd case came to the office from there last week. You know, perhaps, that I’m a member of the Starr and Jordan law firm in New York. Well, our branch office in Sydney referred this case to our office 65 in London, and they, in turn, sent it over here. The reason it was transferred here is that the documents say the client now lives in America. I happened to be put on the case because I knew a little about Sydney. The same case has been up several times, it seems, for some woman over there keeps pounding away at it. The queer part of it is that the trail has been followed up to a certain point and then lost at that point every time. It is the same old story of what is happening every day. Relatives of a wealthy trader left Sydney several years ago, the trader died, and the heirs to his fortune can’t be found. The strange part of it is that these people can be traced as far as America without the slightest trouble, and then, without any apparent reason, they suddenly drop out of existence as completely as though they had been kidnapped and carried to a desolate island. So little data has been collected from the other side that the firm has decided to send me over to Sydney. It promises to be quite an adventure. That’s why I came home to-night, Dad. I’m leaving in the morning.”
Elder Fox had been listening intently, and at mention of the proposed trip he grew pale.
“I––er––should not go if I were you, Harold. They may arrest you again. The police of Australia have a way of remembering things against former prisoners.”