Speaker 1: 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.
Speaker 2: 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.
Speaker 1: 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.
Speaker 2: 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.
Speaker 1: 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.
Speaker 2: She said she would write to you in the course
of a day or two.
Speaker 1: 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.
Speaker 2: 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.
Speaker 1: 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.
Speaker 2: 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.
Speaker 1: 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