The tin box. If I were you, Perkins, said mister Booth one
evening in the smoking room, I should take care what I was about with
that little widow. You mean, Missus Williams, I inquired, Oh is
that her name? Remarked my friend, carelessly refilling his pipe with deliberation.
Why you know it is, I returned rather sharply. I have a bad
memory for names, said mister Booth, with a slight shrug. You seem
to be getting quite intimate. I am decently civil to her, I replied
significantly, and I have avoided her. Yes, that's quite true, said
mister Booth, smiling. Perhaps I instinctively share mister Weller Senior's antipathy to widows.
Anyhow, I don't like the face of this one. I was astonished
and rather disturbed at this. I had great confidence in my friend's judgment.
But when I recalled to mind the refined and delicate features, the soft,
trustful brown eyes, the gentle voice, and the timid, shrinking manner of
the unfortunate lady he referred to, I was filled with indignation at his cynical
attitude. Missus Williams had resided at Elvira House for about a week or ten
days with her only child, a pretty little girl of five years old,
and owing to the accident of being placed next to her at the dinner table,
I had struck up an acquaintance with her, for she was neither remarkably
good looking nor particular young, and my predilection was rather due to sympathy and
good nature than to admiration for her personal charms. Besides, she was apparently
the last person to quote attention for her. Whole thoughts seemed centered upon her
child, whom she evidently adored. I fancy she maneuvered a little to get
put next to you at the table, said mister Booth, watching me quietly.
You wouldn't say that if you knew her better, I retorted hotly.
You think it was an accident, Well, perhaps, said my companion in
his enigmatical way. I'm sure of it, I said emphatically. Missus Nicks
arranged it all right, old fellow. It is no concern of mine,
said mister Booth, good humoredly. Only I shouldn't lend her any more money
if I were you, How do you know I have done so? I
inquired, brandoning. You asked me to change your check the other day.
It is a mere guess. But putting two and two together, you happen
to be ripe. For once, I interrupted with some vexation. I lent
her ten pounds till her dividends fall due on Tuesday next. I suppose you
are going to suggest that the money is lost. It depends upon her circumstances,
he replied, nodding his head. Well do you know anything about her?
Come Booth, out with it, I exclaimed, irritably. I how
should, I said, he raising his eyebrows. I have that I seen
her before in my life. She's the widow of mister John Williams, who
died about two years ago. He lived at Gateshead and was a wholesale tobacconist.
He left everything to her by his will. I explained, to show
that I was not wholly ignorant of the lady's affairs. How do you know,
inquired mister Booth. She showed me a probate, I replied, I
didn't ask her, but when she requested me to accommodate her with that trifle
of her money, she volunteered to explain how she was situated. I see,
observed mister Booth, apparently impressed. Unfortunately, the poor lady was left
very badly off. I went on, mollified by the change in my friend's
manner, which was now more sympathetic, And that is what now brings her
up to town. She has a fixed belief that her husband, who seems
to have been somewhat eccentric in his later days, deposited some money or securities
at some bank in London or elsewhere. Has she any clue, inquired mister
Booth, manifestly interested, Not that I know of. She is very reticent,
I replied. She hasn't asked for your assistance. Then said my friend,
no, of course I should be pleased to help if I could,
I said, with a touch of defiance in my tone. Mister Booth did
not gainsay me this time. Either he was tired of the subject, or
else he perceived that I rather resented his interference. At all events, he
relapsed into one of his silent mood woods in which he was wont to indulge,
and sat puffing at his pipe with his eyes fixed on the fire for
the remainder of the evening, without joining in general conversation, which presently ensued
as the other guests strolled in. I was annoyed with him, because I
thought his opinion of poor little missus Williams was unreasonably prejudiced and very unjust.
Nevertheless, his warning was not quite thrown away upon me, for I determined
to observe her with closer attention. The only result of this, however,
was to convince me more firmly than ever of her absolute good faith. Though
I confess that I began to realize that her refinement of speech and manner was
partly assumed. In unguarded moments, she occasionally dropped an aspirate, and when
she grew a little excited in speaking of her efforts to trace her husband's missing
estate, she sometimes made use of expressions which were suggestive of a humble origin.
But these slight solecisms were hardly perceptible, and of course a defective education
is at most a misfortune for the rest. She continued to interest me greatly,
and when punctually on the appointed day she repaid me the ten pounds with
many fervent expressions of gratitude. I could not forbear exulting over my friend.
That is all right, he said laughingly on hearing the news. But looked
a little shamefaced, as I thought, you needn't tell her. I gave
you a friendly warning. Of course not, I replied indignantly. Any news
about her husband's property, he asked carelessly. None. She has looked up
all his London friends and done everything she can, I answered. Why doesn't
she advertise in the newspapers. She did so more than a year ago,
in the Times and other journals. Have you anything to suggest, I inquired
anxiously. No, don't, for goodness sake, my dear fellow ask me
to mix myself up in the lady's affairs, he said, with more temper
than he usually displayed. I would rather you didn't even tell her. You
have consulted me about them. I promised this more readily because I suddenly remembered
having once suggested to Missus Williams that she should ask the advice of a friend
of mine, having mister Booth in my mind in her difficulty, and had
been met by a decided and emphatic refusal. The incident had made no impression
on me at the time, by the idea now occurred to me that perhaps
Missus Williams had guessed whom I referred to and had been moved by resentment at
the marked coldness which mister Booth always displayed towards her. I had assured him
quite truthfully that missus Williams had never asked me to assist her in her search,
nor had I foreseen that she would do so. But a few mornings
afterwards, the youth who did the valeting of the male portion of the establishment,
entered my room while I was shaving, with an urgent message from the
lady that she was waiting for me in the drawing room and would be obliged
if I would descend there as soon as possible. I found the little widow
looking very pale and excited, with an open letter in her hand, which
had arrived by the earth directly I appeared. She flourished triumphantly a slip of
blue paper, exclaiming, eagerly see mister Perkins, what I have received this
morning. My sister, who is taking charge of my house at Gateshead,
founded between the leaves of a book, Boswell's Life of Johnson, which she
took out quite by chance from the bookcase in the dining room. My poor
husband was devoted to that work and was constantly reading it during his illness.
I am not much of a reader myself, and if hadn't been for my
sister, the paper might have remained undiscovered for years. While Missus Williams was
thus breathlessly explaining, I glanced at the document, which was a form of
receipt or acknowledgment from Messrs Drake Crump and Company, bankers of Fleet Street,
for a tin box deposited with them by her husband for safe custody on a
specified date. I congratulate you, I replied, thinking how attractive she looked
in her excitement. It is indeed a fortunate discovery. I knew it.
I was sure he had done something of the kind, exclaimed Missus Williams joyfully,
but he was very secretive about his affairs. Lately it became quite a
mania with him. I shouldn't be surprised to find the box contains property of
great value. The receipt I see is dated about six months before your husband
died. I observed, Yes, we were up in town then, staying
in lodgings in Edward Square, Kensington, replied Missus Williams reflectively. I brought
him to see a physician, though nobody suspected at the time. I am
the serious nature of his symptoms. He used frequently to go out alone.
And I suppose he got the box from his broker's or from some lawyer.
Anyhow, he deposited it with Drake Crumpet Company. There is no doubt about
that, I remarked, feeling quite carried away by the widow's satisfaction. I
suppose you will call upon them and claim it at once. Yes, unless
I really feel quite ashamed to ask such a favor of you, mister Perkins.
But I was going to say, unless you would mind calling upon them
in the first instance. The fact is my little girl is not very well
to day, and besides, this delightful surprise has rather upset me. My
head ached dreadfully, said Missus Williams, putting her white hand to her brow,
but smiling bravely. Oh, I shall be very pleased, I answered
readily. You had better give me the probate of your husband's bill. The
banker will probably want to see that. Certainly, I'll go and fetch it.
I am so very obliged to you, mister Perkins, said the widow,
grasping my hand as she left the room. Our interview thus terminated.
Missus Williams brought down the official parchment, and armed with this, I hastened
after breakfast to call upon Messrs Drake Crump and Company, feeling quite interested and
excited about the affair. I did not have an opportunity of telling mister Booth
of my errand he was late for breakfast. I remember that I was impatient
to be off so as to look in at the bank on my way to
business. I merely mention this, because, as will appear later, he
afterwards blamed me for not having confided in him at this juncture. The banking
establishment of Messrs Drake, Crump and Company was a small private concern which has
long since been absorbed by one of those big joint stock undertakings. In those
days, its affairs were conducted in a dingy old house with barred windows,
but half way down Fleet Street in a leisurely sleepy kind of way. The
cashier's office was in the front room, the staff consisting of three or four
elderly clerks, and on presenting my card, I was ushered into a gloomy
little apartment at the back, where sat a quaint, white headed old gentleman
in knee breeches who was evidently one of the partners. Dear me, this
is very strange, he exclaimed. When I had explained my business, mister
Williams is dead, is he well? Well, we were wondering. We
haven't heard anything about him for a long time. He has been dead for
more than two years, I replied, two years. Eh, let me
see, he observed, as he rang a handbell upon the table. Mister
Jameson, he added, as a clerk appeared. When did we last hear
from John Williams. He has not drawn on his account for upwards of two
years. His past book is here, answered the clerk. Oh, then
he had a current account as well, I exclaimed, A small one,
yes, replied the old gentleman. What is the balance, mister Jameson,
About one hundred and thirty pounds, said the clerk. You see the past
book being here and the receipt for the box, mislaid. His widow had
no clue, I explained eagerly. Quite so, quite so, and this
is the probate of his will, hey, said the old gentleman, taking
it up and holding it close to his nose. I wonder you didn't see
the advertisements in the papers, I remarked. His widow knew he had property
somewhere, but and she advertised extraordinary that that should have escaped us. We
always keep a lookout, said the old gentleman, glancing through the probate.
When did the advertisements appear? I cannot tell you the date, Missus Williams
will I answered, And you are a friend of the widow's, inquired the
old gentleman, looking at me pretty keenly over his spectacles. Yes, Hm,
the probate seems all right. She is the sole executrix, I see.
Of course, if she wants to withdraw the money and take away the
box, she must attend in person. You can identify her, I suppose,
and verify her signature. Certainly, Hm, you are mister John Perkins
of the Monarchy Insurance Office, he said, scrutinizing my card. Who is
your present manager, mister Middleton? To be sure I have the pleasure of
knowing him making my compliments, said the old man quaintly. I will I
suppose Missus Williams can raw on the account and have access to the box when
she chooses, I inquired, Hm, hmm, I see the testitur was
described in his will as of Gateshead, said the old gentleman. Doubtfully,
that isn't the address in our box. He lived there and his widow lives
there still, I replied. Missus Williams tells me at the date of that
deposit receipt they were residing in lodgings in Edward Square, Kensington. Quite right,
that is the address be gave. Well, sir, he added,
replying to my former question, as everything seems satisfactory, if you will leave
the probate for registration and call here with the lady any time after twelve o'clock
tomorrow, the box can be given up good morning. I was very pleased
for Missus William's sake to find that everything straightforward, and the fact of there
being a substantial sum of money to the dead man's credit, which the widow
evidently knew nothing about, would I thought be some compensation in case the contents
of the box should turn out to be less valuable than she anticipated. Later
in the day, my chief, mister Middleton surprised me by coming up to
my desk at the office and saying, mister Perkins, I have just answered
an inquiry about you, an inquiry, I exclaimed, rather startled. Yes
from Messrs Drake Crump and Company of Fleet Street. Have you some private business
with them, he asked, curiously, and not of my own, Sir,
A lady in whose affairs I am interested. All right, mister Perkins,
I don't wish to inquire details, he said, smiling at my embarrassment.
I was, of course pleased to out for your respectability and integrity.
Thank you, sir, I replied, secretly, annoyed at the banker's inquisitiveness,
I now perceived that I had been more service to missus Williams than I
had anticipated, having unconsciously acted as a sort of reference for her, and
thereby saved her perhaps some little trouble with regard to identification. This gave an
additional zest to the pleasure of being able to make such a satisfactory report to
her on my return, and I am bound to say that the widow was
duly grateful. She overwhelmed me with expressions of thanks, and was really disposed
to exaggerate my small civility. I wrote a letter at her request to Messrs
Drake Crump and Company, fixing an appointment with them for two o'clock on the
following afternoon, and appending a specimen of Missus Billiant's signature, and of course
I rapidly agreed to accompany her. When I told mister Booth all this,
he manifested considerable irritation, which, in my surprise, I was foolish enough
to attribute to a sort of jealousy, since I could imagine no other possible
cause for his ill humor. What the deuce do you want go meddling with
this woman's affairs for Perkins, he said, sharply. What harm have I
done? I exclaimed, harm? Hum that remains to be seen, he
growled, puffing angrily at his pipe. I cannot understand your prejudice against this
poor lady, I said, getting angry in my turn, I take no
interest in her whatever, said mister Booth. That's no reason why I shouldn't.
I retorted, Oh, go your own way. Only remember that I
warned you, said mister Booth, dismissing the subject with an impatient shrug.
We might almost have quarreled, but I was really more amused than angry that
my friend soon recovered his temper. Nothing more was said between us about Missus
Williams, and I attached so little importance to mister Booth's vague warnings that it
never even occurred to me to cancel the appointment I had made Accordingly. The
next day, at two o'clock, I was waiting for the widow at the
door of Messrs Drake, Crump and Company's bank, as arranged, and being
rather pressed to get back to my office, I began to grow impatient as
she did not appear. Ten twenty forty minutes passed without any sign of her,
and I was on the point of leaving, thinking the lady had made
a mistake, when I suddenly espied her on the opposite side of the way,
coming up the street from the direction of Saint Paul's. She looked pale
and fatigued, and as I hastened to her assistance, I saw her glance
nervously over her shoulder at a slouching, white bearded, ragged old beggar man
who appeared to be following her. What is the matter? Has anything happened?
I inquired? Oh no, I lost my way, that's all,
said Missus Williams, with a nervous laugh. Has that fellow been annoying you?
I asked, lowering my voice. As the old beggar slunk by hurriedly.
That man exclaimed Missus Williams, glancing after him. Oh no, I
hadn't noticed him. I gave her my arm and escorted her across the crowded
road into the back. In the parlor. At the back we found old
mister Crump awaiting us, and on a side table was a good sized tin
box with Missus Williams's name inscribed upon it on a paper label. There it
is, exclaimed the widow, as her eyes sparkled. I remember it now.
I always wondered what became of it. Have you the key, madam,
inquired mister Crump, after greeting us with the old fashioned courtesy and bowing
very low to my companion. I think so. At least I have one
or two keys here which I haven't been able to account for, said Missus
Williams, producing her purse eagerly. She selected one of the keys, and,
crossing over to the box, succeeded in opening it immediately. I only
had a glimpse of the contents before Missus Williams shut down the lid and relocked
it, And as they were done up in brown paper parcels or packages,
I could form no idea of their nature or value. I have prepared a
check so that you can draw out the money if you wish, said mister
Crump. Thank you, replied Missus Williams, seating herself at his desk and
affixing her signature to the draft. Will you take it in cash, asked
mister Crump. Yes, please in notes and twenty pounds in gold, said
the widow with a businesslike promptitude, as she drew on her glove again.
Mister Crump summoned the cashier, to whom he handed the draft with the necessary
directions, to which I added a request that the porter may be permitted to
call a cab during the absence of the Mister Crump observed in course of the
conversation, which naturally turned on the late mister Williams eccentric conduct with regard to
his property. By the way, I have looked through the files of the
Times for the advertisement, but I couldn't find it. What advertisement, inquired
Missus Williams. I understood from mister Perkins that you had advertised in the papers
for information about your husband's missing estate, said mister Crump, looking at me.
Oh, yes, so I did, answered the widow, coloring slightly.
What was the date asked mister Crump. Really, I cannot at the
moment recollect. I can send you a copy of it when I get back,
if it is of any moment, said Missus Williams rather sharply. It
is of no consequence, of course, replied the old gentleman, evidently perturbed
at seeing that the lady showed signs of resentment. I merely asked out of
curiosity. Missus Williams appeared from her manner to resent mister Crump's inquiry as insinuating
some doubt upon the accuracy of her statement. But fortunately the return of the
cashier with her money cost a welcome diversion. While she was towing away the
notes and gold in her purse, the cashier looked at me and said,
there is a cab at the door, Sir, shall I ask the porter
to carry the box down. I think I can manage it. It is
not heavy, I replied, as I have prepared to lift it. I
had been thinking, mister Perkins, said Missus Williams reflectively, while putting her
purse away, that perhaps it would be wiser to leave the box here for
a day or two till I returned to Gateshead. That is she added,
turning to the old gentleman with her pleasanter smile. If mister Crump will kindly
allow me, you are welcome to leave it, Madam, at your own
risk, of course, replied mister Crump, a little stiffly. You see,
I have no where to keep it while I am in town. The
lady explained, it would be safer here. It's a little irregular, as
you are no longer a customer, said mister Crump. But still, oh,
but if I find I can afford it, I shall probably come to
live in London, and in that case I should certainly keep my account here,
interrupted Missus Williams. Graciously. In any case, I am very pleased
to oblige you, madam, said the old gentleman more politely. Those surprised
that Missus Williams was able to restrain her curiosity about the contents of the box,
it was obvious that her suggestion was prudent, and therefore we left the
box in charge of the bank. Mister Crump bowed us out of his room
very civilly, and the porter ushered us to the street door, in front
of which was a four wheeled cab. Just as we reached it. The
old gray haired beggar man, whom I had noticed before, rushed forward and
obscusely turned the handle. Missus Williams sprang lightly into the vehicle, and again,
I thought, she glanced nervously at the caging old rascal. Here you
be off, my man, I said to him, sharply, No,
no, here, my poor fellow. Is something for you, said Missus
Williams, And before I could prevent her, she put her hand over my
shoulder and gave the beggar a sixpence. You shouldn't be so foolish, I
said, laughingly, as the old man shuffled off with his price. Think
of my good luck, mister Perkins, laughed the widow. I gave the
cabman the address of Elvira House and lifted my hat to Missus Williams from the
payment as she drove away, little imagining that she would have left London before
I returned in the evening. But so it happened, for when I reached
Elvira House at the end of the day, I learned that the widow had
received a telegram an hour or so previously, summoning her to bath on the
account of the illness of her mother. She left many kind messages for you,
added missus Nicks. When she gave me the information, she said she
would write to you in the course of a day or two. She was
dreadfully upset, poor thing at the sad news. I did not even know
she had a mother living. I remarked, you were the only person she
confided in, said missus Nicks playfully. I suppose the little girl has gone
too, I observed, a trifle abashed. Yes, a sweet child.
Everyone is so sorry to lose them. Missus Williams was a universal favorite,
said missus Nicks. This was evidently the case, to judge from the expressions
of regret which were uttered at the dinner table when her departure became generally known.
We had rather a reduced company that evening, there being several wakened places.
The Major had gone to attend some races at York, whither mister Booth
was understood to have accompanied him, and two or three of our guests were
dining out. I was surprised to hear of my friend having yielded to the
Major's persuasions, for when the latter had brought the subject of the expedition in
the smoking room, on the previous evening. Mister Booth had flatly refused the
invitation, but horse racing was a form of sport which seemed to possess extraordinary
attractions for him, and I supposed he had been partly influenced by desire to
keep his companion out of mischief. I must confess that I felt a little
depressed at the widow's unexpected absence. It was quite untrue that I admired her,
but her confidences had heightened my platonic regard, and her personality undoubtedly attracted
me. I therefore awaited the promised letter with some impatience, and she was
good enough not to leave me long into spense, for by the next evening's
post I received from her the following epistle, dated from Lower Pulteney Street Bath.
My dear mister Perkins, alas, my poor dear mother is dying,
so shocking and so totally unexpected. Of course I must remain by her side
till the end, and she may yet linger for some weeks. The doctor
says. I hope missus snext gave you my message. I can never thank
you sufficiently for all your kindness, dear mister Perkins. And yet I have
a further favor to ask a few You know what sick people are. I
told my dear mother, who is perfectly conscious about the box at the bank.
Nothing will satisfy her but to know what it contains, as she is
anxious to be assured that my little girl and I are sufficiently provided for.
How I regret that I did not examine the contents that day at the bank.
And now what am I to do. I dare not leave my poor
mother even for an hour. I wonder whether you would undertake a journey here
and bring the box with you. I know it is too much to ask,
yet I have ventured to write to the bank to say that you might
call. I am sure your kind heart will prompt you to do this if
you possibly can. You are most faithfully and sincerely, dear mister Perkins,
Amelia Williams. I was rather startled by this request, and yet well in
short, I decided to comply with it. I wonder at myself now most
of us have experienced similar astonishment at past foolish actions. My chief objection at
the time was that I could not very well get away from the office.
However, on consulting a railway timetable. I found that Bath was a much
more accessible place than I had imagined. A half day holiday would be all
that had acquired, for I could travel down there and return the same evening.
The next day was a Saturday, so that all the indulgence I need
ask of my employers was a singular in order that I might get to the
bank before two o'clock to obtain the box. I therefore wrote immediately to Missus
Williams to say that I would travel down by train which left Paddington at three
o'clock, arriving at Bath at five fifteen, and that I should return by
express, which would bring me back to town about nine. I had no
reason for remaining at Bath, and I thought I might accomplish my journey before
mister Booth came back. I think I must have had this vague idea of
keeping my trip a secret, both from him and from the other guests,
for I was a little sensitive about remarks which had been made about my attention
to the widow. I duly carried out my program. The box was handed
over to me at the bank without the slightest demur in consequence of a letter
they had received from Missus Williams and I arrived at bath punctually at the time
named. I hired a fly and drove straight to the widow's address in Lower
Pulteney Street. But the servant who opened the door said, to my surprise
that the lady was out, and handed me a brief penciled note from her,
saying that she had been called away unexpectedly, owing to her mother's condition,
and asking me to leave the box. The poor old lady is not
in the house, then, I remarked, casually, what old lady,
Sir inquired the girl, opening her eyes. Missus Williams's mother. Do you
know where she lives? No, Sir, I don't never heard her mention
she had a mother here in, Sir, added the girl. But Missus
Williams is in constant attendance upon her mother, who is dying, I exclaimed.
Missus Williams has hardly left the house since she has been here, Sir,
said the girl, evidently struck by my surprise. She and her little
girl went for a drive in a fly about an hour ago. I don't
know where they went to, she said. If a gentleman came and left
the tin box, I was to take great care of it. Did Missus
Williams say when she would return? I inquired, with an uneasy feeling.
She said I was to have tea ready at six o'clock. Sir replied the
girl, glancing back at the clock. I will come in and wait,
I said, with sudden resolution. As I stepped inside the hall. The
servant, whose good faith was manifest ushered me into a neat parlor and then
left me after again as of rating in answer to pressing inquiries, that Missus
Williams was certainly not in attendance on an invalid Indeed, it was impossible to
doubt from the girl's detailed account of the widow's movement since her arrival in Bath
that the story of the Dying Mother was a complete fiction. I felt very
much like a person who has unexpectedly received a doush of cold water. At
first sight, it seemed as though the story had been merely a device to
work upon my feelings in order to induce me to bring the box down to
Bath. Even so, however, it was extraordinary behavior on Missus Williams's part
to absent herself just at the hour of my arrival. She had evidently counted
upon my leaving the box and returning at once to London as I had planned.
But why this sudden reluctance to meet me, to say nothing of the
ungrateful discourtesy. I grimly resolved to await an explanation, And when I recalled
at mine that Missus Williams had given the alleged illness of her mother as an
excuse for hurried departure from Elvira House, my mystification increased. The repeated warnings
of mister Booth rose unpleasantly to my mind, and I had worked myself into
a state of mingled indignation and resentment. When a ring at the street door
bell announced, as I imagined the return of Missus Williams, I awaited her
with a considerable trepidation, for I felt that my position was both painful and
embarrassing. I heard servants respond to the summons, and the next moment the
room door was thrown open, and who should walk in but mister Booth.
I started and stared at him as though I had seen a ghost, while
he seemed equally surprised at seeing me. Though he recovered himself quickly. He
glanced at the box on the table, and his eyes twinkled. HULLO.
I thought you were at York, I gasped, And I thought you were
in London, he said, smiling at my astonishment. I am waiting to
see missus Williams, I explained. She is a very clever little woman,
he said emphatically. You came by the five fifteen train. I suppose with
that. Yes, while she to put me off the scent seeks to lead
me a wild goose chaise so as to leave the coast clear, he added,
nodding his head. I've found a note from her asking me to leave
the box, I said, resentfully. Yes, she didn't mean to be
impolite to you, said mister Boots, slyly. The fact is she has
been so closely shadowed that, if she had stayed at home for you,
your arrival with the box would have been noticed. I suspected a trick,
though I must own that my calling here in her absence was nothing short of
an inspiration, he added, with great satisfaction. Perhaps you will kindly explain
it all, I exclaimed, with a show of indignation, which was intended
to disguise my increasing confusion. Not now, he said, coolly, taking
possession of the box. Unless you want an awkward scene with the woman,
which might end in my having to call in the police. In that case,
my friend, you would figure somewhat unpleas presently before the public as an
innocent accomplice in an awkward affair. We had better clear out before she returns.
But the box belongs to missus Williams, I exclaimed, horrified. Well
it does, and it doesn't. I'll explain going along. Meanwhile, possession
is nine points of the law, he said, putting the box under his
arm and moving to the door. I was scared by the suggestion of a
public scandal, and I had complete faith in my friend. I therefore put
on my hat and followed him and by rushing through the streets until we met
a fly, which drove us at full speed to the station. We just
contrived to catch the six point five train back to Torown as it was beginning
to move away. Well, I inquired eagerly, as soon as I had
recovered my breath. We had, fortunately and quite my chance, secured an
empty first class compartment. Mister Booth was leaning back with an air of calm
triumph, lighting a cigar while his feet resting on the tin box missus Williams,
he said quietly, is the wife of an accomplished forger and swell mobsman,
who is at present undergoing the felicity of fourteen years penal servitude. The
wife, I gasped, Yes, his real name is Bolton, but he
called himself Williams, among other aliases in that name. He opened an account
at the Drake's Bank and deposited the box a few months before he was arrested.
It was her husband's property, then, I exclaimed, slightly relieved,
It contains the proceeds of a very ingenious robbery in Hatton Garden. He was
known to have hidden a good bit away somewhere, but he kept his mouth
shut and the police were nonplussed. So was his clever little wife, whose
ingenuity and pluck I can't help admiring. Didn't he tell her? I inquired?
Interested in spite of my unenviable feelings, Yes, But she couldn't get
it at all. It was lodged at the bank in the name of Williams
for safety, and she dared not claim it. But she bided her time,
and at length she heard of the death of mister John Williams at Gateshead,
which showed her husband's prudence in having adopted a common name. Of course,
this was her opportunity. The death man, A complete stranger was made
to represent the actual depositor, and Missus Williams pretended to be the widow.
How did she get hold of the probate of another man's will? I asked,
Probably bribe the clerk of the solicitor who had custody of it. You
see, probates are no good when once an estate is wound up. This
one was probably kicking about the office and wouldn't be missed. What of the
real Missus Williams of Gateshead? She is dead and the advertisements said to have
been inserted in the papers all a lie. That are no advertisements, My
dear fellow, She made you serve her purpose, beautifully, laughed mister Booth.
It was very unfriendly not to have given me a hint, I exclaimed,
furiously indignant, My dear Perkins, didn't I warn you over and over
again? Yes, but you didn't tell me what you knew, Because at
first I knew absolutely nothing. I simply mistrusted her from some kind of instinct.
But when you told me the woman's story, I went round to Scotland
Yard, where I have a friend, said mister Booth, delicately, flicking
the ash from his cigar with his little finger, and was shown some photographs.
That same evening you told me you had been to the bank on her
behalf. You may remember that I was annoyed with you even then. You
might have been more explicit, I replied, angrily. Well, the fact
is, my perkins, as you had already committed yourself, I couldn't resist
the temptation of undertaking this little coup. You played into my hands, as
it were. But there is no harm done, he added, laughing at
my discomfiture. It is entirely a private venture of my own, carried out
single handed. Why didn't she take the box away from the bank that day,
I inquired, after a sulky silence, Because she discovered she was being
watched, replied mister Booth, with imperturbable good humor. Do you remembered an
old gray bearded man. Yes, she spotted him, and that sent her
out of London, you followed, I suppose, yes. I knew she
would contrive to get the box send down to her. I thought she would
probably have it brought down one of the bank's messengers. I never thought she
would have the cheek to Mister Booth checked himself abruptly, evidently out of consideration
for my feelings. Then, after puffing at his cigar for a few moments,
he added, in a conciliatory tone, you mustn't mind, my dear
fellow. Only two people besides yourself will ever have even a suspicion of how
it has all come about. I shan't tell, and you may be sure
she won't. You forget the graybearded man, I groaned despondently. True,
yes, I forgot him, said mister Boot, smiling, But I'll answer
for his discretion as I would for my own. I wouldn't have it happen
for a thousand pounds, I exclaimed in deep dejection. After we had traveled
for twenty miles in complete silence, mister Booth looked at me for a few
moments with a friendly concern. Then he leant forward and touched me lightly on
the arm. My dear fellow, since it has happened, I can offer
you with half the sum you mention as compensation. What do you mean The
owner of the property in this box will no doubt be glad to pay me
five hundred pounds as a reward. I am sufficiently repaid by the satisfaction of
having accomplished a very neat job entirely off my own bat. As a matter
of fact, I owe my success entirely to you. Thanks. No,
I am no detective, I interrupted, more rudely. I dare say than
I was conscious of. At least, let me offer you a little memento
to hang on your watch chain, he said, wincing at the rebuff,
but not the least resenting it. He produced, as he spoke, from
his pocket a sixpenny piece and handed it to me. What is this,
I asked, the identical coin which the fair widow bestowed upon the gray bearded
man. He replied, How did you come by it? Then, I
asked, But mister Booth only smiled, and I then recollected how he had
boasted that he had managed his part of the business single handed. I have
only to add that though my friend always declared that the widow did not entertain
the least suspicion of his identity, she never came to Elbira House again,
nor even wrote a line of remonstrance or inquiry to me. And as I
have heard nothing whatever from that day to this, I conclude she made no
complaint but accepted philosophically her bitter disappointment, probably considering herself lucky to have escaped
worse consequences. The End of the Tin Box by Herbert Keane