"Know him? Of course I know him. Why, he's always coming round here for a pipe and a yarn. He's particularly chummy with me too. He told me his name was Garson."

"Did he speak to you that afternoon?"

"Yes; said it was a rum chance we met. The beggar must have followed me.

But why? He knows where to find me when he wants me."

"Has he ever threatened you, or tried to get money from you?"

"Tried to get money from me? The chap's not born, my dear, who'd try such a fool's game as that. Whatever put that into your head."

"Oh, I don't know, Jabez; he's hard up and disreputable, and knowing as he does how you killed--"

"Hush! Confound you." He looked round apprehensively. "Don't speak so loud. Look here, Miriam, strikes me you're right. What with Dundas, and the old lady, and this young devil here, I'm in a tight place. I'd better skip while I can. But I tell you straight, if this Farren, or anyone else for that matter, tries coming it nasty with me, I'll do for 'em and then for myself. So you know. I'm not going to be taken alive.

Now go on, tell me more about this beggar. Are you sure he knows as much as you fancy he does?"

"Quite sure, Jabez. He knows, at all events, that there's a price upon your head for murder." Then rapidly she told him how Farren had come to be in such a position towards Barton, and how he had always done the Squire's dirty work.

Jabez listened attentively, and chuckled to himself.

"Oh, that was the reason, was it? Now I see it all."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Listen to me, Miriam. I know how to deal with Farren and Shorty. Let them interfere with me, and they'll be precious sorry they did, I can tell you. Now then, if I'm to get away, I must have some more cash. I've spent some of that you gave me."

"I expected that," said Miriam, slipping her hand in her pocket. "Jabez, can't you stop drinking even when your life is in danger?"

"Oh, hold your tongue, and don't begin preaching now. How much have you got here?" he said, weighing her purse.

"Twenty pounds--a ten-pound note and gold. It is every farthing I have."

Mother Mandarin's ears caught the clink of the gold, and she crawled towards them.

"Lovey, dovey, give aunty the blunt; she wants 'eaps of it--'eaps of it!"

Jabez took the money from the purse and put it in his pocket. As the woman clamoured on he swore at her. She yelled at him and threatened.

With an oath he picked her up and pitched her like a bale of goods on to an unoccupied mattress.

"Get outside, Miriam," he said, "sharp; I'll follow."

Only too anxious to escape from the repulsive scene Miriam hurried down the stairs. Jabez quickly followed, banging the door with such force as to shake the crazy house.

Then bolt upright sat Shorty with a twinkle in his eye.

"So that's it, is it?" he mumbled. "Murder, eh? S'elp me, I'll get some dibs out o' this, or my bloomin' name ain't Shorty!"

CHAPTER XII.

JABEZ SEEKS AN OLD FRIEND.

With the best part of fifty pounds in his pocket, Jabez Crane took counsel with himself as to which portion of the civilised or uncivilised world he should next honour with his presence. That there was all-round prejudice against his remaining in London seemed, from what his sister had said, tolerably certain. And, in truth, he confessed to himself that even Lambeth had its limitations as a place of residence.

And so, on the following morning, he set out for the office of the Beaver line of steamers, which, as is well known, ply between the ports of Liverpool and Montreal, with the intention of booking a steerage pa.s.sage in the next boat leaving for that port, and with a vague notion of gradually making his way thence into the heart of the gold-bearing country, about which the more fabulous tales had percolated recently, even to the remote habitation of Mother Mandarin.

His berth secured, Jabez turned his steps towards the Strand, He had not walked far when the thought struck him that he was in a position to afford a penny 'bus. Putting his thought into action he mounted one. At the bottom of Fleet Street he saw something that caused him considerable surprise. There, sitting inside the same omnibus, reflected in a more than usually shiny plate-gla.s.s window, was the familiar form of Shorty.

Shorty too, then, had been able to afford a penny ride! Strange! It was the second time he had come upon him unexpectedly that morning. At Temple Bar, where he alighted, there was no longer doubt in Jabez' mind.

Shorty was following him--had been following him ever since he left Lambeth. Turning suddenly on his heel he made straight for the youth, and seized him by the collar.

"'Ere," whined the quondam Gideon Anab, struggling to get free, "lemme go, carn't yer; I'll kick yer shins to bits if yer don't.

"You young gaol-bird," said Jabez, holding him all the tighter, "what d'ye mean by coming after me like this?"

"I want to tell yer something if ye'll only stop!"

"And must you follow me half over London to tell me something--you--out with it, what is it?"

"It's about Garson; 'e's arter yer!"

"After me? What d'you mean?"

"Step round 'ere into this 'ere back street and I'll tell yer. But yer'll 'ave to give us a quid!"

They moved down into Ess.e.x Street. Jabez felt half inclined to yield.

But he thought better of it.

"Look here, young man, I should have thought you'd ha' known better than to try your beastly hanky panky business on with me. You'll just tell me anything you know, and I'll reward you afterwards according to what I think it's worth; d'you see?"

"Well, you'll say it's worth a tidy bit I reckon. I'll tell yer this much now; that Garson cove's only 'untin' yer to git 'em off 'is own track!"

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean as I seed quite enough down at that there Thorpe place to string 'im up if I liked to blab. But look 'ere, pal, you've got to treat me square on this job. You be at the shop to-night--there's too many coppers round about 'ere for my likin'. There's one of 'em got 'is eye on me already."

"Right you are--at Mother Mandarin's to-night. What time?"

"Oh, somewhere about eight, pal," and with a whistle, indicative of approaching danger, Mr. Shorty made his way towards the Embankment.

Jabez was both astounded and relieved. At last he began to see Mr.

Farren's game. It was running the war into the enemy's camp with a vengeance. But he'd be one too many for him this time. Still, even so, he felt far from secure. He had not seen Farren all the morning, and there was always the possibility he might already have betrayed him. He had more than half a mind to leave Euston by the late night mail. He could do so and still be at Mother Mandarin's at eight.

Meanwhile Shorty made his way along the Embankment at a rate for him prodigious, and in less than half an hour from the time of his parting with Jabez had reached his destination--Great Scotland Yard.

Jabez, having completed sundry minor purchases for his voyage, rewarded himself by dropping into a public-house and drinking (to himself again) _bon voyage_. That done, he called for his pipe and another bowl, accompanied on this occasion by pens, ink, and paper. He was feeling very nervous about Farren, and had made up his mind that any betrayal by that mysterious gentleman should not go unpunished, even though he, the betrayed, were not there to punish him. With such retribution in view, he ran off a letter to Miriam, the contents of which would be all sufficient to secure unto Mr. Farren the chastis.e.m.e.nt he would so richly deserve. For the whiling away of the remainder of the afternoon he had to fall back on such attraction as his host was able to offer in the shape of Scotch Whisky.