Capitalists and financiers -- Fiction; Great Britain -- Politics and government -- Fiction; Political fiction
The two men went eastward together, Mr. Bailey talking of a thousand
improbable things on the way, and they laid the task before the very
courteous manager, who assured them it would be the simplest thing in
the world. And so it was, for they learnt the same evening that though
the petition had been lodged by a large grocer of the name of Hewlett
in Mafeking Avenue, the real mover in the affair was a workman resident
in a small street off the Crescent, a casual labourer of the name of
Seale.
"That's all right," said Mr. Bailey when the news came to them as they
sat at dinner together. "You won't find out that way. They been got at.
That's a tenner wasted," he added anxiously, "but I'll pay it--I gave
the advice. You go back home, and I'll let you know everything I hear
within two days."
And Mr. Clutterbuck went home a little, but only a little, comforted;
feeling that he had indeed one ally--but what an ally! A man who talked
in enigmas, a _dilettante_ with wild theories in which he himself
only half believed; a man half ostracised, half tolerated, and wholly
despised, but a man in the swim, anyhow: the memory of that consoled
Mr. Clutterbuck.
Two days afterwards Charlie Fitzgerald returned. His story was
perfectly concise, too concise, alas, for that stricken household.
He did not bother them with his visit to the Duke of Battersea and
to Scotland--he spoke only of their own business. He had seen Peter
Street yet once again. They were sorry, but it had happened from having
too many names on the list; some had to wait; they admitted they had
postponed Mr. Clutterbuck's name to Paardeberg Day, when there was a
batch of thirty to bring out.
"But now there's the Petition," said Charlie Fitzgerald a little
awkwardly; "you see under the circumstances----"
"I see," said Mr. Clutterbuck with a grim face.
"Don't take it like that," said Charlie Fitzgerald, "they can't prove
anything. It's only a bit of spite."
"That's what I was saying to-day," said Mr. Clutterbuck. And the
Anapootra Ruby Mines were forgotten--but Mr. Bailey had not forgotten
them!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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