The Collected Works of J. S. Fletcher: 17 Novels & 28 Short Stories (Illustrated Edition). J. S. Fletcher

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The Collected Works of J. S. Fletcher: 17 Novels & 28 Short Stories (Illustrated Edition) - J. S. Fletcher

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got to work quietly. We mustn't let Pratt know that we're working. I hope he doesn't know that Miss Mallathorpe came here. Will you come back about four and hear what message she sends me? After that, we could consult."

      Collingwood went away to his chambers. He was much occupied just then, and had little time to think of anything but the work in hand. But as he ate his lunch at the club which he had joined on settling in Barford, he tried to get at some notion of the state of things, and once more his mind reverted to the time of his grandfather's death, and his own suspicions about Pratt at that period. Clearly that was a point to which they must hark back—he himself must make more inquiries about the circumstances of Antony Bartle's last hours. For this affair would not have to rest where it was—it was intolerable that Nesta Mallathorpe should in any way be under Pratt's power. He went back to Eldrick at four o'clock with a suggestion or two in his mind. And at the sight of him Eldrick shook his head.

      "I've had that telephone message from Normandale," he said, "five minutes ago. Pretty much what I expected—at this juncture, anyway. Mrs. Mallathorpe absolutely declines to talk business with even her daughter at present—and earnestly desires that Mr. Linford Pratt may be left alone."

      "Well?" asked Collingwood after a pause. "What now?"

      "We must do what we can—secretly, privately, for the daughter's sake," said Eldrick. "I confess I don't quite see a beginning, but——"

      Just then the private door opened, and Pascoe, a somewhat lackadaisical-mannered man, who always looked half-asleep, and was in reality remarkably wide-awake, lounged in, nodded to Collingwood, and threw a newspaper in front of his partner.

      "I say, Eldrick," he drawled, as he removed a newly-lighted cigar from his lips. "There's an advertisement here which seems to refer to that precious protégé of yours, who left you with such scant ceremony. Same name, anyhow!"

      Eldrick snatched up the paper, glanced at it and read a few words aloud.

      "INFORMATION WANTED about James Parrawhite, at one time in practice as a solicitor."

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      Eldrick looked up at his partner with a sharp, confirmatory glance.

      "That's our Parrawhite, of course!" he said. "Who's after him, now?" And he went on to read the rest of the advertisement, murmuring its phraseology half-aloud: "'in practice as a solicitor at Nottingham and who left that town six years ago. If the said James Parrawhite will communicate with the undersigned he will hear something greatly to his advantage. Any person able to give information as to his whereabouts will be suitably rewarded. Apply to Halstead & Byner, 56B, St. Martin's Chambers, London, W.C.' Um!—Pascoe, hand over that Law List."

      Collingwood looked on in silence while Eldrick turned over the pages of the big book which his partner took down from a shelf. He wondered at Eldrick's apparent and almost eager interest.

      "Halstead & Byner are not solicitors," announced Eldrick presently. "They must be inquiry agents or something of that sort. Anyway, I'll write to them, Pascoe, at once."

      "You don't know where the fellow is," said Pascoe. "What's the good?"

      "No—but we know where he last was," retorted Eldrick. He turned to Collingwood as the junior partner sauntered out of the room. "Rather odd that Pascoe should draw my attention to that just now," he remarked. "This man Parrawhite was, in a certain sense, mixed up with Pratt—at least, Pratt and I are the only two people who know the secret of Parrawhite's disappearance from these offices. That was just about the time of your grandfather's death."

      Collingwood immediately became attentive. His first suspicions of Pratt were formed at the time of which Eldrick spoke, and any reference to events contemporary excited his interest.

      "Who was or is—this man you're talking of?" he asked.

      "Bad lot—very!" answered Eldrick, shaking his head. "He and I were articled together, at the same time, to the same people: we saw a lot of each other as fellow articled clerks. He afterwards practised in Nottingham, and he held some good appointments. But he'd a perfect mania for gambling—the turf—and he went utterly wrong, and misappropriated clients' money, and in the end he got into prison, and was, of course, struck off the rolls. I never heard anything of him for years, and then one day, some time ago, he turned up here and begged me to give him a job. I did—and I'll do him the credit to say that he earned his money. But—in the end, his natural badness broke out. One afternoon—I'm careless about some things—I left some money lying in this drawer—about forty pounds in notes and gold—and next morning Parrawhite never came to business. We've never seen or heard of him since."

      "You mentioned Pratt," said Collingwood.

      "Only Pratt and I know—about the money," replied Eldrick. "We kept it secret—I didn't want Pascoe to know I'd been so careless. Pascoe didn't like Parrawhite—and he doesn't know his record. I only told him that Parrawhite was a chap I'd known in better circumstances and wanted to give a hand to."

      "You said it was about the time of my grandfather's death?" asked Collingwood.

      "It was just about then—between his death and his funeral I should say," answered Eldrick, "The two events are associated in my mind. Anyway, I'd like to know what it is that these people want Parrawhite for. If it's money that's come to him, it'll be of no advantage—it'll only go where all the rest's gone."

      Collingwood lost interest in Parrawhite. Parrawhite appeared to have nothing to do with the affairs in which he was interested. He sat down and began to tell Eldrick about his own suspicions of Pratt at the time of Antony Bartle's death; of what Jabey Naylor had told him about the paper taken from the History of Barford; of the lad's account of the old man's doings immediately afterwards; and of his own proceedings which had led him to believe for the time being that his suspicions were groundless.

      "But now," he went on, "a new idea occurs to me. Suppose that that paper, found by my grandfather in a book which had certainly belonged to the late John Mallathorpe, was something important relating to Mrs. Mallathorpe? Suppose that my grandfather brought it across here to you? Suppose that finding you out, he showed it to Pratt? As my grandfather died suddenly, with nobody but Pratt there, what was there to prevent Pratt from appropriating that paper if he saw that it would give him a hold over Mrs. Mallathorpe? We know now that he has some document in his possession which does give him a hold—may it not be that of which the boy Naylor told me?"

      "Might be," agreed Eldrick. "But—my opinion is, taking things all together, that the paper which Antony Bartle found was the one you yourself discovered later—the list of books. No—I'll tell you what I think. I believe that the document which Pratt told Miss Mallathorpe he holds, and to which her mother referred in the letter asking Pratt to meet her, is probably—most probably!—one which he discovered in searching out his relationship to Mrs. Mallathorpe. He's a cute chap—and he may have found some document which—well, I'll tell you what it might be—something which would upset the rights of Harper Mallathorpe to his uncle's estates. No other relatives came forward, or were heard of, or were discoverable when John Mallathorpe was killed in that chimney accident; but there may be some—there may be one in particular. That's my notion!—and I intend, in the first place, to make a personal search of the parish registers from which Pratt got his information. He may have discovered something there which he's keeping to himself."

      "You think that is the course to adopt?" asked Collingwood, after

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