"Now you believe me, don't you?" said the detective to Jack.

"Yes," replied Jack, "you were right," and then he stepped forward alone, close to Rutley, and with a sneer on his face, confronted him.

"So, my n.o.ble partner! You gave me the kiss of 'Judas' for ten thousand shekels, eh?"

Rutley was amazed, but maintaining his imperturbability, exclaimed: "You propound a riddle, my poor man. I don't know you."

"Ha, ha, ha, ha," laughed Jack, bitterly. "The riddle should be plain with the key in your keeping. But I know _you_, me Lord Beauchamp, alias Philip Rutley. Now, d.a.m.n you, take the medicine your treachery awards you."

Rutley straightened up, his mortification was very great. Naturally astute, shrewd and alert, for once he had been caught napping. With distended, staring eyes, he whispered, aghast: "Jack, Jack," and then, recovering himself, composedly said: "A--my poor fellow, you are mistaken; I don't know you," and then he swung himself about and laughed in that peculiar, high-pitched key--"He, he, he, he; he must be crazy."

"Crazy, eh!" and Jack laughed low, hoa.r.s.ely and derisively. "Ha, ha, ha, ha. The detective told me you had sold me for the reward offered for recovery of the child, but I would not believe him. Now! I know he told the truth. For the proof is there," and he pointed to the money in the hands of Mr. Harris. "The proof that you betrayed your partner"--

"You lie! You lie! d.a.m.n you, you lie!" exclaimed Rutley bitterly, as he swiftly turned to Jack, and then muttered to himself: "Ye G.o.ds, I have been trapped by a fluke." Then, with marvellous nerve, declared: "Oh, this is preposterous; I will immediately bring some friends and prove that you malign me," and so saying he turned to move off.

"Detective Simms, he is your man; arrest him!" said Mrs. Harris.

On seeing his chance of escape lessening every moment Rutley abandoned all idea of further defense, and made a grab for his coat.

Quick as was his action, he could not outmaneuver Sam, who promptly threw himself upon Rutley's back, and locked his arms about him, pinioning him as in a vice. And while in that position the detective slipped on the handcuffs.

On releasing him, Sam turned with a broad grin of satisfaction to his aunt--"How is that for the Texas brand, eh, Auntie?"

He got for his answer a smile, and an exclamation that pleased him immensely. "Splendid, Sam."

"The neatest bit of work done since his partner tried to find a soft spot on Carbit strait pavement," added Smith, with a look of admiration.

In the meantime Mr. Harris had been examining the packages of money, turning them over and over, looking first at one and then at another.

Of a sudden his face lit up with a smile, as he exclaimed: "Why, this is mine; the identical package that he obtained from the bank on my indors.e.m.e.nt. I can swear to it. But this?" And he looked meaningly at Virginia.

"It looks like the package of notes I gave the Italian for Dorothy's ransom," she replied.

"He never sold me after all," muttered Jack, who became painfully astonished on hearing Mr. Harris declare that Rutley had obtained one of the packages of money from the bank on his indors.e.m.e.nt. And as the plan by which he was tricked into betrayal of his accomplice became evident, his chagrin deepened to grief. He turned to Rutley and said, brokenly: "Phil, I take it all back," and then he muttered absently as he realized the futility of regret. "But it is too late--I have been tricked into a confession."

"The jig is up," replied Rutley. "I shall take my medicine like a man."

"That money must remain in the custody of the police until the court decides for the owner," said the detective.

"Certainly," affirmed Mr. Harris, who handed him the two packages.

"This one is mine, and contains ten thousand dollars. And this contains a like amount and belongs to Miss Thorpe. I shall apply to the court for rest.i.tution tomorrow," remarked Mr. Harris.

"Very well, sir. Now please hand me that coat and we will go," said the detective.

Mr. Harris picked up the coat and handed it to the detective.

"Keep it, old man," advised Rutley, with lofty disdain. "Keep it as a memento of how you were once charmed by one of England's n.o.bility," he laughed derisively.

"I will have no gift from a thief," indignantly exclaimed Mr. Harris, as he handed over the coat. "Officers, away with them."

"Good-bye Charles, Reginald, De Coursy, West-ma-coate Cosmos, me Lord Beauchamp. Fare thee well," said Sam, with a grin.

It was at that time that the little Scotch terrier began to sniff at Jack's trouser legs inquisitively. The dog had wandered near him, attracted by the sound of his familiar voice, and though it evidently scented something intimate, could not recognize his former master in the changed appearance resultant on his enforced bath. And so the dog sniffed and sniffed while the glint of its upward turned eyes ominously resented any friendly overture.

Jack had noticed the dog about, and now that it was sniffing at his leg, he softly spoke to it, saying: "Good-bye, Snooks," whereupon to his surprise the dog growled at him. Again he said, soothingly: "Good bye Snooks," putting out his hand to fondle it, but the dog, in one of those singularly unsympathetic moods rare to its nature, would have none of him, and barked at him furiously.

It was the finishing stroke to his shame and degradation. "An outcast, a stranger, so low I have fallen that my own dog barks at me."

"Come along," urged the detective to Rutley and Jack. But Rutley halted and turned to Hazel, with the same marvellous air that had won for him confidence in critical moments of "my lord's" career.

"Ta, ta, pet," said he, in his softest blandishment to Hazel. "That was a ravishing kiss you gave me in the conservatory awhile ago. Ta, ta," and he threw her a kiss with his free hand and followed it with a tragic scowl at Sam.

"The horrid man," indignantly exclaimed Hazel.

"Good-bye, Virginia," and he smiled patronizingly at her. "You 'peached' on your pal, but rogues do that sometimes. Tra-la."

"Officer, away with them," ordered Mr. Harris, with disgust.

"Get a move on, old chappie," said Sam.

"Come along," urged the detective.

But Rutley balked, and looking at Mrs. Harris, laughed, the same high-pitched, uncanny laugh he had used previously.

"I had almost forgotten you, Auntie," he drawled in his most suave and engaging manner. "You know that it is bad form to take one's leave without saying 'adieu,' and believe me," and he again laughed, "I thank you for your lavish reception in honor of the fake lord."

"Officer, away with them," stormed Mr. Harris.

Though Rutley was forced away a step or two he still kept his eyes fixed on Mrs. Harris, and managed to hold his ground long enough to add, ironically: "Adieu, Auntie! Ta, ta!"

"March yees blackguards, march," said Smith, pushing the men along.

"How very rude! I have never had anything so scurrilous said to me before in my life."

"He wasn't a real lord, Auntie. Only tried to act like one, eh, I guess so," and Sam inwardly chuckled at the balm he offered for her discomfiture.

"Sam, you had better a.s.sist the officers to the railway station,"

suggested Mr. Harris.

"Oh, quite to my fancy, Uncle!" and Sam immediately proceeded after the detectives and their prisoners.

The silence that fell on the group as they watched the prisoners move down the hill was broken by Hazel, who, turning to Mr. Harris, said: "It was clever of Sam. Indeed, Uncle, it seems to him is due the honor of breaking the spell of a pretender."

"I am satisfied now that my lord will serve a 'spell' with his partner in the state penitentiary," replied Mr. Harris.

"A fate that deservedly overtakes adventurers and imposters," remarked Mrs. Harris.

"And a most pungent warning to the frantic race society runs to entertain t.i.tled swindlers!" added Mr. Harris, gravely.