The Mynns' Mystery

“Well, if you are,” said the cheery old doctor, wringing the proffered hand, “you are the cleverest one I ever met. Now, tell Mr Hampton what you mean to do.”

“One moment,” said the lawyer quickly. “Look here. I have been speaking so far as James Harrington’s executor. Not one penny will I consent to advance out of the estate; but if you will allow me, Mr Blank – ”

“Mr George Harrington, sir.”

“Mr Blank,” persisted the lawyer.

“George Harrington, sir.”

“When you have proved yourself to be he. You are to me now Mr Blank; and I say that I shall not allow my old friend Lawrence to bear this expense alone. As a lawyer and executor I will not stir a step, but as a friend, who has some slight belief in your story, I shall share with him.”

The young man laughed.

“You’re a rum old fellow, Mr Hampton, and some of these days we three will have some hearty laughs across the walnuts and the wine over all this worry.”

“Yes, that we will,” said Doctor Lawrence. “Over a glass of port.”

“You see, gentlemen, I must get to work; for I find that, besides the pseudo George Harrington, I have another enemy to fight.”

“Another?”

“Yes, gentlemen. Mr Saul Harrington – the next heir.”

“I do not quite understand you,” said the lawyer.

“I am sorry to say I do,” said the doctor. “Saul Harrington is next heir, and there can be no doubt about his being strongly attached to our young friend Gertrude.”

“Even if this be so,” said the lawyer, “it does not strengthen your case, Mr Blank.”

“Well, for the present, agreed then,” said the young man smiling. “Mr Blank be it so. But it does strengthen my case. Now, gentlemen, I am going to be my own detective and I am fighting for a large stake.”

“Yes, it is a big estate,” said the lawyer drily.

“Hang the estate, sir. I was happy enough as a man without it, and I could be again. But I am fighting for my honour; and there is a greater stake still,” he added with his eyes flashing, as he recalled his last interview with Gertrude.

“Well, sir, what do you propose doing?”

“I am in the enemy’s camp, sir. Why should I reveal my plans?”

“No, you are not in the enemy’s camp, sir,” said the old lawyer sharply. “You are with those friends who are going to find you in the sinews of war to carry on your campaign.”

“True. Well, then, I’ll speak out: I am going to run down this man who called himself George Harrington. We must meet.”

“Good.”

“He has disappeared for one of two reasons.”

“Yes, sir; go on.”

“He is an impostor.”

“Not proven,” said the doctor.

“Not yet. But his actions show it. He has disappeared with all the money he could get together, because, by some means, he heard that I was alive.”

“Yes, that seems probable,” said the doctor, as Mr Hampton turned the table into a piano and played upon it dumb tunes.

“Probable, but only my first idea, and I don’t think it is the true solution.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t believe he could have had a suspicion that I was alive.”

“Then why did he go away?” said the lawyer sharply.

“That we must find out through Saul Harrington.”

“Mr Saul Harrington is seriously ill,” said Doctor Lawrence. “I saw him this morning at his request.”

“What’s the matter?”

“The injury to his arm. It seems he had a nasty fall upon one of the ice slopes in Switzerland, and the doctors there treated it wrongly. It’s a nasty case, and is giving me a deal of anxiety.”

“He’ll get well soon enough,” said the lawyer roughly. “Go on, Mr Blank. Let’s have the rest of your theory.”

“My theory is, sir, that during one or other of the drinking bouts they had together the pseudo George Harrington let his tongue run rather fast, and Saul Harrington was too clever for him; he nailed him at once.”

“He would have denounced him.”

“He either would had I not come forward, or he has some reason for keeping it back.”

“Not plausible, Mr Blank,” said the lawyer shortly. “You are spoiling your own case.”

“Perhaps so, sir, but I shall work it out my own way. What I feel sure of is this: my impersonator has gone never to return. Saul knew of his departure – of that I feel sure; and he was satisfied that he was all right as successor to the estate, when, to his dismay, he found me in the field.”

“Humph?” ejaculated Doctor Lawrence, patting the young man on the arm. “I don’t think we shall want a detective.”

“Don’t flatter him, Lawrence,” said the lawyer tartly. “It’s all moonshine. I don’t like Saul Harrington; never did. But he would not have acted as our young frien – as young Mr Blank suggests.”

“Perhaps not, sir. But I can say no more. My ideas are in a state of chaos at present. Still I am sure the case is somewhere in his tangle, and I mean to find it out.”

“When do you begin?” said the doctor.

“I have begun, sir; and I am going on now.”

“Down to The Mynns?”

“Perhaps. But I shall not try to see Miss Bellwood. I devote myself from this hour to the discovery of the mystery which means so much to me.”