The Green Mummy
careless tones, and sauntered into the room. “D'y think I'm goin' to
be chucked out by a measly nigger and--Great Scott!”--this latter
exclamation was extorted by the sight of the mummy.
Braddock motioned to the still angry Cockatoo to move aside, and then
nodded triumphantly.
“You didn't expect to see that, did you?” he asked.
Hervey came to anchor on a chair and turned the cheroot in his mouth
with an odd look at the mummy.
“When will he be hanged?”
Braddock stared.
“When will who be hanged?”
“The man as stole that thing.”
“We haven't found him yet,” Braddock informed him swiftly.
“Then how in creation did you annex the corpse.”
The Professor sat down and explained. The lean, long mariner listened
quietly, only nodding at intervals. He did not seem to be surprised
when he heard that the corpse of the head Inca had been found in Mrs.
Jasher's garden, especially when Braddock explained the whereabouts of
the property.
“Wal,” he drawled, “that don't make my hair stand on end. I guess the
garden was on his way and he used it for a cemetery.”
“What are you talking about?” demanded the perplexed scientist.
“About the man who strangled your help and yanked away the corpse.”
“But I don't know who he is. Nobody knows.”
“Go slow. I do.”
“You!” Braddock started and flung himself across the room to seize
Hervey by the lapels of his reefer coat. “You know. Tell me who he is,
so that I can get the emeralds.”
“Emeralds!” Hervey removed Braddock's plump hands and stared greedily.
“Don't you know? No, of course you don't. But two emeralds were buried
with the mummy, and they have been stolen.”
“Who by?”
“No doubt by the assassin who murdered poor Sidney.”
Hervey spat on the floor, and his weather-beaten face took on an
expression of, profound regret.
“I guess I'm a fool of the best.”
“Why?” asked Braddock, again puzzled.
“To think,” said Hervey, addressing the mummy, “that you were on board
my boat, and I never looted you.”
“What!” Braddock stamped. “Would you have committed theft?”
“Theft be hanged!” was the reply. “It ain't thieving to loot the dead.
I guess a corpse hasn't got any use for jewels. You bet I'd have gummed
straightways onto that mummy, when I brought it from Malta in the old
Diver, had I known it was a jeweler's shop of sorts. Huh! Two emeralds,
and I never knew. I could kick myself.”
“You are a blackguard,” gasped the astonished Professor.
“Oh, shucks!” was the elegant retort, “give it a rest. I'm no worse than
that dandy gentleman who added murder to stealing, anyhow.”
“Ah!” Braddock bounded off his chair like an india-rubber ball, “you
said that you knew who had committed the murder.”
“Wal,” drawled Hervey again, “I do and I don't. That is I suspect, but I
can't swear to the business before a judge.”
“Who killed Bolton?” asked the Professor furiously. “Tell me at once.”
“Not me, unless it's made worth my while.”
“It will be, by Don Pedro.”
“That yellow-stomach. What's he got to do with it?”
“I have just told you the mummy belongs to him; he came to Europe to
find it. He wants the emeralds, and intends to offer a reward of one
hundred pounds for the discovery of the assassin.”
Hervey arose briskly.
“I'm right on the job,” said he, sauntering to the door. “I'll go to
that old inn of yours, where you say the Don's stopping, and look him
up. Guess I'll trade.”
“But who killed Bolton?” asked Braddock, running to the door and
gripping Hervey by his coat.
The mariner looked down on the anxious face of the plump little man with
a grim smile.
“I can tell you,” said he, “as you can't figure out the business, unless
I'm on the racket. No, sir; I'm the white boy in thin circus.”
The Professor shook the lean sailor in his anxiety.
“Who is he?”
“That almighty aristocrat that came on board my ship, when I lay in the
Thames on the very afternoon I arrived with Bolton.”
“Who do you mean?” demanded Braddock, more and more perplexed.
“Sir Frank Random.”
“What! did he kill Bolton and steal my mummy?”
“And hide it in that garden on his way to the Fort? I guess he did.”
The Professor sat down and closed his eyes with horror. When he opened
them again, Hervey was gone.
CHAPTER XVI. THE MANUSCRIPT AGAIN
But the Professor was not going to let Captain Hervey escape without
giving him full information. Before the Yankee skipper could reach
the front door, Braddock was at his heels, gasping and blowing like a
grampus.
“Come back, come back. Tell me all.”
“I reckon not,” rejoined the mariner, removing Braddock's grip. “You
ain't the one to give the money. I'll go to the Don, or to Inspector
Date of Pierside.”
“But Sir Frank must be innocent,” insisted Braddock.
“He's got to prove it,” was the dry response. “Let me go.”
“No. You must tell me on what grounds--”
“Oh, the devil take you!” said Hervey hastily, and sat down on one of
the hall chairs. “It's this way, since you won't let me skip until
I tell you. This almighty aristocrat came to Pierside on the same
afternoon as I cast anchor. While Bolton was on board, he looked in to
have a yarn of sorts.”
“What about?”
“Now, how in creation should I know?” snapped the skipper. “I wasn't on
hand, as I'd enough to do with unloading cargo. But his lordship went
with Bolton to the state-room, and they talked for half an hour. When
they came out, I saw that his lordship had his hair riz, and heard him
saying things to Bolton.”
“What sort of things?”
“Well, for one, he said, `You'll repent of this,' and then again, `Your
life isn't safe while you keep it.'”
“Meaning the mummy?”
“I reckon that's so, unless I am mistaken,” said Hervey serenely.
“Why didn't you go to the police with this information?”
“Me? Not much. Why, I saw no way of making dollars. And then, again,
I did not think of putting things together, until I found that his
lorship--”
“Meaning Sir Frank,” interpolated the Professor, frowning.
“I'm talking Queen's, or King's, or Republican lingo, I guess, and I
do mean his lorship,” said the skipper dryly--“until I found that his
lorship had been in the public-house where the crime was committed.”
“The Sailor's Rest? When did he go there?”
“In the evening. After his talk with Bolton, and after a row--as they
both seemed to have their hair off--he skipped over the side and went
back to his yacht, which wasn't far away. Bolton took his blamed mummy
ashore and got fixed at the Sailor's Rest. I gathered afterwards, from
the second mate of The Diver (which ain't my ship now), that his lorship
came into the hotel and had a drink. Afterwards my second mate saw him
talking to Bolton through the window.”
“In the same place as the woman talked?” questioned the Professor.
“That's so, only it was later in the evening that the woman came along
to give chin-music through the window. I am bound to say,” added the
captain generously, “that no one I can place my hand on saw his lorship
loafing about the hotel after dark. But what of that? He may have laid
his plans, and arranged for the corpse to be found later, in that blamed
packing case.”
“Is this all your evidence?”
“It's enough, I guess.”
“Not to procure a warrant.”
“Why, a man in the States would be electrocuted on half the evidence.”
“I daresay,” retorted the little man with contempt, “but we are in
a land where justice of the purest prevails. All your evidence is
circumstantial. It proves nothing.”
The captain was considerably nettled.
“I calculate that it proves Sir Frank wanted the mummy, else why did he
come on board my ship to see your infernal assistant. The words he
used showed that he was warning Bolton how he'd do for him. And then he
talked through the window, and was in the public-house, which ain't a
place for an almighty aristocrat to shelter in. I guess he's the man
wanted by the police. Why,” added Hervey, warming to his tale, “he'd a
slap-up yacht laying near the blamed hotel, and could easily ship the
corpse, after slipping it through the window. When he got tired of it,
and looted the emeralds, he took it by boat, below the Fort, to Mrs.
Jasher's garden and left it there, so as to pull the wool over the eyes
of the police. It's as clear as mud to me. You search his lorship's
shanty, and you'll find the emeralds.”
“It is strange,” muttered Braddock unwillingly.
“Strange, but not true,” said a voice from the head of the stairs, and
young Hope came down leisurely, with a pale face, but a very determined
air. “Random is absolutely innocent.”
“How do you know?” demanded the skipper contemptuously.
“Because he is an English gentleman and my very good friend.”
“Huh! I guess that defense won't save him from being lynched.”
Meanwhile Braddock was looking irritably at Archie.
“You've been listening to a private conversation, sir. How dare you
listen?”
“If you hold private conversations at the top of your voices in the
hall, you must be expected to be listened to,” said Archie coolly. “I
plead guilty, and I am not sorry.”
“When did you come?”
“In time to hear all that Captain Hervey has explained. I was chatting
with Lucy, and had just left her, when I heard your loud voices.”
“Has Lucy heard anything?”
“No. She is busy in her room. But I'll tell her,” Hope turned to mount
the stairs; “she likes Random, and will no more believe him guilty than
I do at this present moment.”
“Stop!” cried Braddock, flying forward to pull Hope back, as he placed
his foot on the first stair. “Tell Lucy nothing just now. We must go to
the Fort, you--and I, to see Random. Hervey, you come also, and then you
can accuse Sir Frank to his face.”
“If he dares to do it!” said Archie, who looked and felt indignant.
“Oh, I'll accuse him right enough when the time comes,” said Hervey in
his coolest manner, “but the time isn't now. Savy! I am going to see the
Don first and make sure of this reward.”
“Faugh!” cried Hope with disgust, “Blood-money!”
“What of that? Ifs a man is a murderer he should be lynched.”
“My friend, Sir Frank Random, is no murderer.”
“He's got to prove, that, as I said before,” rejoined the Yankee in a
calm way, and strolled to the door. “So-long, gents both. I'll light out
for the Warrior Inn and play my cards. And I may tell you,” he added,
pausing at the door, which he opened, “that I haven't got that blamed
wind-jammer, so need money to hold out until another steamer comes
along. One hundred pounds English currency will just fill the bill. So
now you know the lay I'm on. So-long,” and he walked quietly out of
the house, leaving Archie and Braddock looking at one another with pale
faces. The assurance of Hervey surprised and horrified them. Still, they
could not believe that Sir Frank Random had been guilty of so brutal a
crime.
“For one thing,” said Hope after a pause, “Random did not know where the
emeralds were to be found, or even that they existed.”
“I understood that he did know,” said Braddock reluctantly. “In my
hearing, and in your own, you heard Don Pedro state that he had related
the story of the manuscript to Random.”
“You forget that I learned about the emeralds at the same time,” said
Hope quietly. “Yet this Yankee skipper does not accuse me. The knowledge
of the emeralds came to Random's ears and to mine long after the crime
was committed. To have a motive for killing Bolton and stealing the
emeralds, Random would have had to know when he arrived in England.”
“And why should he have not known?” asked the Professor, biting his lip
vexedly. “I don't want to accuse Random, or even to doubt him, as he is
a very good fellow, even though he refused to assist me with money when
I desired a reward to be offered. All the same, he met Don Pedro in