III
Jessen, Alias Long
The front page of every big London daily was again black with the story of the Four Just Men.
вАЬWhat I should like,вАЭ said the editor of the Megaphone, wistfully, вАЬis a sort of official propaganda from the FourвБ†вАФa sort of inspired manifesto that we could spread into six columns.вАЭ
Charles Garret, the MegaphoneвАЩs вАЬstarвАЭ reporter, with his hat on the back of his head, and an apparently inattentive eye fixed on the electrolier, sniffed.
The editor looked at him reflectively.
вАЬA smart man might get into touch with them.вАЭ
Charles said, вАЬYes,вАЭ but without enthusiasm.
вАЬIf it wasnвАЩt that I knew you,вАЭ mused the editor, вАЬI should say you were afraid.вАЭ
вАЬI am,вАЭ said Charles shamelessly.
вАЬI donвАЩt want to put a younger reporter on this job,вАЭ said the editor sadly, вАЬit would look bad for you; but IвАЩm afraid I must.вАЭ
Presently, he found himself in Fleet Street, and, standing at the edge of the curb, he answered a taxi-driverвАЩs expectant look with a nod.
вАЬDo,вАЭ said Charles with animation, вАЬdo, and put me down ten shillings toward the wreath.вАЭ
He left the office a few minutes later with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his mouth, and one fixed determination in the deepest and most secret recesses of his heart. It was rather like Charles that, having by an uncompromising firmness established his right to refuse work of a dangerous character, he should of his own will undertake the task against which he had officially set his face. Perhaps his chief knew him as well as he knew himself, for as Charles, with a last defiant snort, stalked from the office, the smile that came to his lips was reflected on the editorвАЩs face.
Walking through the echoing corridors of Megaphone House, Charles whistled that popular and satirical song, the chorus of which runsвБ†вАФ
By kind permission of the Megaphone,
By kind permission of the Megaphone.
Summer comes when Spring has gone,
And the world goes spinning on,
By permission of the Daily Megaphone.
вАЬWhere to, sir?вАЭ asked the driver.
вАЬ37, Presley Street, WalworthвБ†вАФround by the Blue Bob and the second turning to the left.вАЭ
Crossing Waterloo Bridge it occurred to him that the taxi might attract attention, so halfway down the Waterloo Road he gave another order, and dismissing the vehicle, he walked the remainder of the way.
Charles knocked at 37 Presley Street, and after a little wait a firm step echoed in the passage, and the door was half opened. The passage was dark, but he could see dimly the thickset figure of the man who stood waiting silently.
вАЬIs that Mr.¬†Long?вАЭ he asked.
вАЬYes,вАЭ said the man curtly.
Charles laughed, and the man seemed to recognize the voice and opened the door a little wider.
вАЬNot Mr.¬†Garrett?вАЭ he asked in surprise.
вАЬThatвАЩs me,вАЭ said Charles, and walked into the house.
His host stopped to fasten the door, and Charles heard the snap of the well-oiled lock and the scraping of a chain. Then with an apology the man pushed past him and, opening the door, ushered him into a well-lighted room, motioned Charles to a deep-seated chair, seated himself near a small table, turned down the page of the book from which he had evidently been reading, and looked inquiringly at his visitor.
вАЬIвАЩve come to consult you,вАЭ said Charles.
A lesser man than Mr.¬†Long might have been grossly flippant, but this young manвБ†вАФhe was thirty-five, but looked olderвБ†вАФdid not descend to such a level.
вАЬI wanted to consult you,вАЭ he said in reply.
His language was the language of a man who addresses an equal, but there was something in his manner which suggested deference.
вАЬYou spoke to me about Milton,вАЭ he went on, вАЬbut I find I canвАЩt read him. I think it is because he is not sufficiently material.вАЭ He paused a little. вАЬThe only poetry I can read is the poetry of the Bible, and that is because materialism and mysticism are so ingeniously blendedвБ†вАФвАЭ
He may have seen the shadow on the journalistвАЩs face, but he stopped abruptly.
вАЬI can talk about books another time,вАЭ he said.
Charles did not make the conventional disclaimer, but accepted the otherвАЩs interpretation of the urgency of his business.
вАЬYou know everybody,вАЭ said Charles, вАЬall the queer fish in the basket, and a proportion of them get to know youвБ†вАФin time.вАЭ
The other nodded gravely.
вАЬWhen other sources of information fail,вАЭ continued the journalist, вАЬI have never hesitated to come to youвБ†вАФJessen.вАЭ
It may be observed that вАЬMr.¬†LongвАЭ at the threshold of the house became вАЬMr.¬†JessenвАЭ in the intimacy of the inner room.
вАЬI owe more to you than ever you can owe to me,вАЭ he said earnestly; вАЬyou put me on the track,вАЭ he waved his hand round the room as though the refinement of the room was the symbol of that track of which he spoke. вАЬYou remember that morning?вБ†вАФif you have forgotten, I havenвАЩtвБ†вАФwhen I told you that to forgetвБ†вАФI must drink? And you saidвБ†вАФвАЭ
вАЬI havenвАЩt forgotten, Jessen,вАЭ said the correspondent quietly; вАЬand the fact that you have accomplished all that you have is a proof that thereвАЩs good stuff in you.вАЭ
The other accepted the praise without comment.
вАЬNow,вАЭ Charles went on, вАЬI want to tell you what I started out to tell: IвАЩm following a big story. ItвАЩs the Four Just Men story; you know all about it? I see that you do; well, IвАЩve got to get into touch with them somehow. I do not for one moment imagine that you can help me, nor do I expect that these chaps have any accomplices amongst the people you know.вАЭ
вАЬThey have not,вАЭ said Jessen; вАЬI havenвАЩt thought it worth while inquiring. Would you like to go to the Guild?вАЭ
Charles pursed his lips in thought.
вАЬYes,вАЭ he said slowly, вАЬthatвАЩs an idea; yes, when?вАЭ
вАЬTonightвБ†вАФif you wish.вАЭ
вАЬTonight let it be,вАЭ said Charles.
His host rose and left the room.
He reappeared presently, wearing a dark overcoat and about his throat a black silk muffler that emphasized the pallor of his strong square face.
вАЬWait a moment,вАЭ he said, and unlocked a drawer, from which he took a revolver.
He turned the magazine carefully, and Charles smiled.
вАЬWill that be necessary?вАЭ he asked.
Jessen shook his head.
вАЬNo,вАЭ he said with a little embarrassment, вАЬbutвБ†вАФI have given up all my follies and fancies, but this one sticks.вАЭ
вАЬThe fear of discovery?вАЭ
Jessen nodded.
вАЬItвАЩs the only folly leftвБ†вАФthis fear. ItвАЩs the fly in the ointment.вАЭ
He led the way through the narrow passage, first having extinguished the lamp.
They stood together in the dark street, whilst Jessen made sure the fastening of the house.
вАЬNow,вАЭ he said, and in a few minutes they found themselves amidst the raucous confusion of a Walworth Road market-night.
They walked on in silence, then turning into East Street, they threaded a way between loitering shoppers, dodged between stalls overhung by flaring naphtha lamps, and turned sharply into a narrow street.
Both men seemed sure of their ground, for they walked quickly and unhesitatingly, and striking off through a tiny court that connected one malodorous thoroughfare with the other, they stopped simultaneously before the door of what appeared to be a disused factory.
A peaky-faced youth who sat by the door and acted as doorkeeper thrust his hand forward as they entered, but recognizing them drew back without a word.
They ascended the flight of ill-lighted stairs that confronted them, and pushing open a door at the head of the stairs, Jessen ushered his friend into a large hall.
It was a curious scene that met the journalistвАЩs eye. Well acquainted with вАЬThe GuildвАЭ as he was, and with its extraordinary composition, he had never yet put his foot inside its portals. Basing his conception upon his knowledge of workingmenвАЩs clubs and philanthropic institutions for the regeneration of degraded youth, he missed the inevitable billiard-table, he missed, too, the table strewn with month-old literature, but most of all he missed the smell of free coffee.
The floor was covered with sawdust, and about the fire that crackled and blazed at one end of the room there was a semicircle of chairs occupied by men of varying ages. Old-looking young men and young-looking old men, men in rags, men well dressed, men flashily attired in loud clothing and resplendent with shoddy jewellery. And they were drinking.
Two youths at one end of the crescent shared a quart pewter pot; the flashy man whose voice dominated the conversation held a glass of whisky in one beringed hand, and the white-haired man with the scarred face who sat with bowed head listening had a spirit glass half filled with some colourless fluid.
Nobody rose to greet the newcomers.
The flashy man nodded genially, and one of the circle pushed his chair back to give place to Jessen.
вАЬI was just a-sayingвБ†вАФвАЭ said the flashy man, then looked at Charles.
вАЬAll right,вАЭ signalled Jessen.
вАЬI was just a-sayinвАЩ to these lads,вАЭ continued the flashy one, вАЬthat takinвАЩ one thing with the other, thereвАЩs worse places than вАШstir.вАЩвАКвАЭ
Jessen made no reply to this piece of dogmatism, and he of the rings went on.
вАЬAnвАЩ whatвАЩs the good of a man tryinвАЩ to go straight. The police will pull you all the same: not reportinвАЩ change of address, loitering with intent; it donвАЩt matter what you do if youвАЩve been in trouble once, youвАЩre sure to get in again.вАЭ
There was a murmur of assent.
вАЬLook at me,вАЭ said the speaker with pride. вАЬIвАЩve never tried to go straightвБ†вАФbeen in twice anвАЩ it took six policemen to take me last time, and they had to use the вАШstick.вАЩвАКвАЭ
Jessen looked at him with mild curiosity.
вАЬWhat does that prove, except that the policemen were pretty soft?вАЭ
вАЬNot a bit!вАЭ The man stood up.
Under the veneer of tawdry foppery, Charles detected the animal strength of the criminal.
вАЬWhy, when IвАЩm fit, as I am now,вАЭ the man went on, вАЬthere ainвАЩt two policemen, nor four neither, that could handle me.вАЭ
JessenвАЩs hand shot out and caught him by the forearm.
вАЬGet away,вАЭ he suggested, and the man swung round like lightning, but Jessen had his other arm in a grip of iron.
вАЬGet away,вАЭ he said again; but the man was helpless, and knew it, and after a pause Jessen released his hold.
вАЬHow was that?вАЭ he asked.
The amused smiles of the men did not embarrass the prisoner.
вАЬThe guvвАЩnorвАЩs different,вАЭ he explained easily; вАЬheвАЩs got a knack of his own that the police havenвАЩt got.вАЭ
Jessen drew up a chair, and whatever there was in the action that had significance, it was sufficient to procure an immediate silence.
He looked round the attentive faces that were turned toward him. Charles, an interested spectator, saw the eager faces that bent in his friendвАЩs direction, and marvelled not a little at the reproductive qualities of the seed he had sown.
Jessen began to speak slowly, and Charles saw that what he said was in the nature of an address. That these addresses of Jessen were nothing unusual, and that they were welcome, was evident from the attention with which they were received.
вАЬWhat Falk has been telling you,вАЭ said Jessen, indicating the man with the rings, вАЬis trueвБ†вАФso far as it goes. There are worse places than вАШstir,вАЩ and itвАЩs true that the police donвАЩt give an old lag a chance, but thatвАЩs because a lag wonвАЩt change his job. And a lag wonвАЩt change his job, because he doesnвАЩt know any other trade where he gets money so quickly. WallyвАЭвБ†вАФhe jerked his head toward a weedy-looking youthвБ†вАФвАЬWally there got a stretch for what? For stuff that fetched thirty pounds from a fence. Twelve months hard work for thirty pounds! It works out at about 10s. 6d. a week. And his lawyer and the mouthpiece cost him a fiver out of that. Old man GarthвАЭвБ†вАФhe pointed to the white-headed man with the ginвБ†вАФвАЬdid five stretch for less than that, and heвАЩs out on brief. His wage works out at about a shilling a week.вАЭ
He checked the impatient motion that Falk made.
вАЬI know that Falk would say,вАЭ he went on smoothly, вАЬthat what IвАЩm saying is outside the bargain; when I fixed up the Guild, I gave my вАЩdavy that there wouldnвАЩt be any parson talk or вАШCome All-Ye-FaithfulвАЩ singing. Everybody knows that being on the crookвАЩs a mugвАЩs game, and I donвАЩt want to rub it in. What IвАЩve always said and done is in the direction of making you fellows earn bigger money at your own trade.
вАЬThereвАЩs a man who writes about the army whoвАЩs been trying to induce soldiers to learn trades, and he started right by making the Tommies dissatisfied with their own trade; and that is what I am trying to do. What did I do with young Isaacs? I didnвАЩt preach at him, and I didnвАЩt pray over him. Ike was one of the finest snide merchants in London. He used to turn out half-crowns made from pewter pots that defied detection. They rang true and they didnвАЩt bend. Ike got three years, and when he came out I found him a job. Did I try to make him a woodchopper, or a Salvation Army ploughboy? No. HeвАЩd have been back on the crook in a week if I had. I got a firm of medal makers in Birmingham to take him, and when Ike found himself amongst plaster moulds and electric baths, and discovered he could work at his own trade honestly, he stuck to it.вАЭ
вАЬWe ainвАЩt snide merchants,вАЭ growled Falk discontentedly.
вАЬItвАЩs the same with all branches,вАЭ Jessen went on, вАЬonly you chaps donвАЩt know it. Take tale-pitchingвБ†вАФвАЭ
It would not be fair to follow Jessen through the elaborate disquisition by which he proved to the satisfaction of his audience that the вАЬconfidenceвАЭ man was a born commercial traveller. Many of his arguments were as unsound as they could well be; he ignored first principles, and glossed over what seemed to such a clearheaded hearer as Charles to be insuperable obstacles in the scheme of regeneration. But his audience was convinced. The fringe of men round the fire was reinforced as he continued. Men came into the room singly, and in twos and threes, and added themselves to the group at the fire. The news had spread that Jessen was talkingвБ†вАФthey called him вАЬMr.¬†Long,вАЭ by the wayвБ†вАФand some of the newcomers arrived breathlessly, as though they had run in order that no part of the address should be missed.
That the advocate of discontent had succeeded in installing into the minds of his hearers that unrest and dissatisfaction which he held to be the basis of a new moral code, was certain. For every face bore the stamp of introspective doubt.
Interesting as it all was, Charles Garrett had not lost sight of the object of his visit, and he fidgeted a little as the speaker proceeded.
Immediately on entering the room he had grasped the exact relationship in which Jessen stood to his pupils. Jessen he knew could put no direct question as to their knowledge of the Four Just Men without raising a feeling of suspicion which would have been fatal to the success of the mission, and indeed would have imperilled the very existence of the вАЬGuild.вАЭ
It was when Jessen had finished speaking, and had answered a dozen questions fired simultaneously from a dozen quarters, and had answered the questions that had arisen out of these queries, that an opening came from an unexpected quarter.
For, with the serious business of the meeting disposed of, the questions took the inevitable facetious turn.
вАЬWhat trade would you give the Four Just Men?вАЭ asked Falk flippantly, and there was a little rumble of laughter.
The journalistвАЩs eyes met the reformerвАЩs for one second, and through the minds of both men flashed the answer. JessenвАЩs mouth twitched a little, and his restless hands were even more agitated as he replied slowly:
вАЬIf anybody can tell me exactly what the Four Just MenвБ†вАФwhat their particular line of business is, I could reply to that.вАЭ
It was the old man sipping his gin in silence who spoke for the first time.
вАЬDвАЩye remember Billy Marks?вАЭ he asked.
His voice was harsh, as is that of a man who uses his voice at rare intervals.
вАЬBilly Marks is dead,вАЭ he continued, вАЬdeader than a doornail. He knew the Four Just Men; pinched the watch anвАЩ the notebook of one, anвАЩ nearly pinched them.вАЭ
There was a man who sat next to Falk who had been regarding Charles with furtive attention.
Now he turned to Jessen and spoke to the point.
вАЬDonвАЩt get any idea in your head that the likes of us will ever have anything to do with the Four,вАЭ he said. вАЬWhy, Mr.¬†Long,вАЭ he went on, вАЬthe Four Just Men are as likely to come to you as to us; beinвАЩ as you are a government official, itвАЩs very likely indeed.вАЭ
Again Jessen and Charles exchanged a swift glance, and in the eyes of the journalist was a strange light.
Suppose they came to Jessen! It was not unlikely.
Once before, in pursuing their vengeance in a South American State, they had come to such a man as Jessen.
It was a thought, and one worth following.
Turning the possibilities over in his mind Charles stood deep in thought as Jessen, still speaking, was helped into his overcoat by one of the men.
Then as they left the hall together, passing the custodian of the place at the foot of the stairs, the journalist turned to his companion.
вАЬShould they come to youвБ†вАФ?вАЭ
Jessen shook his head.
вАЬThat is unlikely,вАЭ he said; вАЬthey hardly require outside help.вАЭ
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
Charles shook hands at the door of JessenвАЩs house.
вАЬIf by any chance they should comeвБ†вАФвАЭ he said.
Jessen laughed.
вАЬI will let you know,вАЭ he said a little ironically.
Then he entered his house, and Charles heard again the snap of the lock as the strange man closed the door behind him.
Within twenty-four hours the newspapers recorded the mysterious disappearance of a Mr. J. Long, of Presley Street. Such a disappearance would have been without interest, but for a note that was found on his table. It ran:
вАЬMr.¬†Long being necessary for our purpose, we have taken him.
That the affair had connection with the Four was sufficient to give it an extraordinary news value. That the press was confounded goes without saying. For Mr.¬†Long was a fairly unimportant man with some self-education and a craze for reforming the criminal classes. But the Home Office, which knew Mr.¬†Long as вАЬMr.¬†Jessen,вАЭ was greatly perturbed, and the genius of Scotland Yard was employed to discover his whereabouts.