The Pit-Prop Syndicate Freeman Wills Crofts (english novels for beginners TXT) 📖

the authorities with his story; on Madeleine’s account I still wanted it kept quiet. I needn’t recount our argument. Suffice it to say that at last we compromised. Hilliard agreed to wait for a month. For the sake of our friendship and the help I had given him, he undertook to give me a month to settle something about Madeleine. Mr. Coburn, nearly half that month is gone and I am not one step farther on.”

The manager wiped the drops of sweat from his pallid brow. Merriman’s quiet, confident manner, with its apparent absence of bluff or threat, had had its effect on him. He was evidently thoroughly frightened, and seemed to think it no longer worthwhile to plead ignorance. As Merriman had hoped and intended, he appeared to conclude that conciliation would be his best chance.

“Then no one but you two know so far?” he asked, a shifty, sly look passing over his face.

Merriman read his thoughts and bluffed again.

“Yes and no,” he answered. “No one but we two know at present. On the other hand, we have naturally taken all reasonable precautions. Hilliard prepared a full statement of the matter which we both signed, and this he sent to his banker with a request that unless he claimed it in person before the given date, the banker was to convey it to Scotland Yard. If anything happens to me here, Hilliard will go at once to the Yard, and if anything happens to him our document will be sent there. And in it we have suggested that if either of us disappear, it will be equivalent to adding murder to the other charges made.”

It was enough. Mr. Coburn sat, broken and completely cowed. To Merriman he seemed suddenly to have become an old man. For several minutes silence reigned, and then at last the other spoke.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, in a tremulous voice, hardly louder than a whisper.

Merriman’s heart leaped.

“To consider your daughter, Mr. Coburn,” he answered promptly. “All I want is to marry Madeleine, and for her sake I want you to get out of this thing before the crash comes.”

Mr. Coburn once more wiped the drops of sweat from his forehead.

“Good lord!” he cried hoarsely. “Ever since it started I have been trying to get out of it. I was forced into it against my will and I would give my soul if I could do as you say and get free. But I can’t⁠—I can’t.”

He buried his head in his hands and sat motionless, leaning on his desk.

“But your daughter, Mr. Coburn,” Merriman persisted. “For her sake something must be done.”

Mr. Coburn shook his clenched fists in the air.

“Damnation take you!” he cried, with a sudden access of rage, “do you think I care about myself? Do you think I’d sit here and listen to you talking as you’ve done if it wasn’t for her? I tell you I’d shoot you as you sit, if I didn’t know from my own observation that she is fond of you. I swear it’s the only thing that has saved you.” He rose to his feet and began pacing jerkily to and fro. “See here,” he continued wildly, “go away from here before I do it. I can’t stand any more of you at present. Go now and come back on Friday night at the same time, and I’ll tell you of my decision. Here’s the key,” he threw it down on the desk. “Get out quick before I do for you!”

Merriman was for a moment inclined to stand his ground, but, realizing that not only had he carried his point as far as he could have expected, but also that his companion was in so excited a condition as hardly to be accountable for his actions, he decided discretion was the better part, and merely saying: “Very well, Friday night,” he unlocked the door and took his leave.

On the whole he was well pleased with his interview. In the first place, he had by his readiness escaped an imminent personal danger. What was almost as important, he had broken the ice with Mr. Coburn about Madeleine, and the former had not only declared that he was aware of the state of his daughter’s feelings, but he had expressed no objection to the proposed match. Further, an understanding as to Mr. Coburn’s own position had been come to. He had practically admitted that the syndicate was a felonious conspiracy, and had stated that he would do almost anything to get out of it. Finally he had promised a decision on the whole question in three days’ time. Quite a triumph, Merriman thought.

On the other hand he had given the manager a warning of the danger which the latter might communicate to his fellow-conspirators, with the result that all of them might escape from the net in which Hilliard, at any rate, wished to enmesh them. And just to this extent he had become a copartner in their crime. And though it was true that he had escaped from his immediate peril, he had undoubtedly placed himself and Hilliard in very real danger. It was by no means impossible that the gang would decide to murder both of the men whose knowledge threatened them, in the hope of bluffing the bank manager out of the letter which they would believe he held. Merriman had invented this letter on the spur of the moment and he would have felt a good deal happier if he knew that it really existed. He decided that he would write to Hilliard immediately and get him to make it a reality.

A great deal, he thought, depended on the character of Coburn. If he was weak and cowardly he would try to save his own skin and let the others walk into the net. Particularly might he do this if he had suffered at their hands in the way he suggested. On the other hand, a strong man would undoubtedly consult his fellow-conspirators and see that a pretty