Rensselaer Republican, Volume 25, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 July 1893 — A CLEVER ADVENTURER. [ARTICLE]

A CLEVER ADVENTURER.

Chicago Post, - - “Goodevening!” '■ ... The banker, William Murray, raised his eyes from his ledger. He was somewhat surprised for he did not expect any clients at that hour, at which, as was usual, his office was ■closing. * The new arrival was a well-built, tall young man, badly dressed. He had entered as the clerk was leaving. “I was afraid I should be too late,’’ said the visitor, whose voice agreed better with his aristocratic face than did his worn-out clothes. “Permit me to ask how I can serve*you,” said Murray, without .getting up to receive him. "I beg you to be as quick as you can, Sir Henry, because I want to get away.” “I will tell you at once.” replied _ “*Se youngban net. cbme to ask” you for the loan of £200." ~ Murrav eyed the, young fellow from head to foot. “And the guaranty?” luf said, shortly. “My prospects. As you know I am the presumptive heir of Lord Hervey. lam the nearest of his relations.” Murray laughed sarcastically. “Sir Henry,” he said, “you know very well that you are somewhat inexact. I know from a private source that Lord Hervey has sworn not-fco'grve you another penny, and I t hink you will believe me when I tell ybu that I am perfectly well informed." The face of the young fellow did not change in the least. “But the reason I have called upon you,” he said,” is because you know the friendship which your brother-in-law, who is my grandfather’s lawyer, has for me, and I want to show you this letter which he has written to me:" “Dear Sir Henry: I have at last the pleasure of sending you a friendly word. Your grandfather, whose health has changed for the worse, desires to see you and bless j’ou before he dies. I advise you to come as quickly as possible. Your old friend, B. Jameson.” “This is really the signature of my , brother-in-law. ’ said Murray, after he had read the letter. “And my best r md,” continued Sir Henry. “If he knew the conditions in which I am he would certainly help me.” “Why do you want this assistance from me?" “Precisely because I want to go to my grandfather and I require some money for the journey.” “Ah, well, I run a risk now and then.” “Excuse me," interrupted Sir Henry, “but I hear some one moving in an adjoining room.” “You must have been mistaken,” said the banker. Rafter looking. ‘ There is nobody there. Let us return to our business. I can only let you have £100.” ’tVery well, give” me that." said the young man, "and make out your receipt. u The following evening Sir Henry was another man. He had been running about all day engaged in the most varied and agreeable occupation —in paying his debts, in rigging himself out anew. At ft o’clock in the evening he received from his grandfather's solicitors the following telegram: “The condition of your grandfather is much worse. He will not alter his wdl until he sees you. Come immediately.” He hastily packed his portman-' teau. A few minutes now would decide his lot, either make him the heir to an estate of £30,000 a year, or leave him as hard up as he ever was, to be reduced some day, perhaps to beg his bread. He went into a neighboring hotel, took up a railway time table to find out the quickest and shortest route, lit a cigarette and then started for home. “I beg your pardon, but could you oblige me with a light?” The speaker was a man dressed in dirty, well worn clothes. Poverty had rendered the baronet considerate of others. He stopped at once and gave the man what he required. “A fine evening,” observed the latter, continuing to walk along by the side of the baronet. ‘ Yes," replied Sir Henry. “Good day." Hehad reached bis lodgings and was preparing to go in when the man stopped him. “Wait a moment, sir/’ said the man, placing his hand upon the baronet’s arm. 44 We11, what is it?” \ “Nothing except to tell you, Sir Henry Merton, that you are arrested. 1 am a police officer and I am sorry to say you must consider yourself in my custody.” ■“You arrest me?” I “Yes; for the murder of William Murray, yesterday evening, in h s office.” “But, my dear sir, I am absolute Jy innocent. v “I hope so, sir; but that does not concern me. You will have the opportunity almost immediately of producing the proof." “If I cannot see him before his death I shall remain a hopeless vagabond,” thought the young man, who had suffered too much poverty not to look upon this prospect with fear. . “Come with me. Let me have an opportunity of speaking with you," said he, as he noticed the passers by were beginning to observe them. Hie companion followed him un-

willingly to his dingy room, and - without waiting for the baronet’s invitation seated himself in the only chair whieh the apartment contained. “Pray tell me what this means.” said Sir Henry, anxious to know all, and wondering whether, after all, he might not find some means of pursuing his journey. His companion coolly proceeded: “This morning when Mr. Murray’s clerk arrived at the office he found his principal shot through the head, dead, seated in his chair. The police were at once sent for and made inquiry into the affair, I being one ofthem » “Weriearned that last night--the night of the crime—a person had been seen to leave Mr. Murray’s office at a rather late hour. I caused that person to be watched and ascertained t hat h e made sever al purchases to-day, among other things some, from Smith & Blake, the tailors, whom he had paid with a banknote indorsed with the name of the banker. Murray, written with hisown hand. : “The person who paid them that note and left "the murdered man’s office at such a late hour was myself. “1 will now give you an exact account of how I passed my time, and make you a confidant as to my position,” said the Baronet, and he hastily did so in as few words as possible. “I indeed pity you sincerely.” said the man, interesting himself in the Baronet’s posi tion. "Then why can’t you hplp me?” “I don't see how I can.” “Give me three day’s grace. At the end of that time I will come-and give myself up of my own accord- I swear it. vv’hen lam reconciled to my grandfather I shall have nothing more to fear. “You shake your head! Look!” said Sir Harry, entreatingly, “Here is my purse. . Take all it contains. I only .want sufficient for my journey. The rest belongs to you, and I give you my promise to come and give myself up in three days' time. “It is very little I am offering you, but directly I get possession of the inheritance I swear to you that I will not forget to reward you. ” “But if I should let myself beovercome by "compassion I don’t see how I could help you.” said the man. “I have no wish to deceive you. At every station there are police officers with your description. If I let you go free you will fall into their clutches, so it will be all the same.” “Yes: but can not I disguise myself? I will do anything you wish, but I beg of you to let me go.” “But how can you disguise yourself?’' continued the detective. Sir Henry had a lucky thought. Ten minutes after the young baronet, having put on the stranger’s corduroy trousers, black coat and cloth cap. had the street and leaped into a cab, while his protector, in the new clothes, had taken another direction. "Luckily, I have another suit in my bag.” said the baronet to himself, throwing himself on to the seat and glancing at his costume He reached the station in time to get his ticket and to buy an evening paper, so that he might find out the particulars of the strange crime. He had hardly thrown his portmanteau into the carriage when the train I started. I ... “At last,” he murmured, settling himself into one of the corners. But in an instant after he looked out of the jvindow, terrified as though a person who was standing there under the. station awning had been a ghost. This person was William Murray, the murdered banker. As the train moved off the baronet maintained his gaze through the window, but suddenly he gave himself a shake and took up the paper. “If he really was killed I shall soon know!” he exclaimed. He looked all through the paper but could not find a word about the crime. ————— Another piece of news, however, attracted his attention. It was the promise of a reward offered by the police authorities to whoever should give information leading to the capture of an adventurer who had for some time been going around the city committing acts of roguery with the greatest audacity and skillful ness. He continued his reading: “The adventurer wears a cloth cap, a black jacket and corduroy trousers.” With feverish haste Sir Henry took from his bag the spare suit of clothes with which he had provided himself, rapidly arrayed himself in them and as the train passed through the short tunnel before reaching the station he flung the property of the wily swindler out of the window. Twenty minutes after he had reached his destination his grandfather passed away and he was the possessor of an estate and income of £30,000 per annum.