Criminals -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories
“What can I do, sir?” he asked. “I am nearly fifty; I’ve spent most of
my working life in one job, and it is very unlikely that I can get
another. Fortunately for me, I’ve not only saved money, but I have had
one or two lucky investments, and for those I must be grateful to the
old man. I don’t think he was particularly pleased when he found that
I’d followed his advice, but that’s beside the question. I do owe him
that. I’ve just about enough money to keep me for the rest of my life if
I go quietly and do not engage in any extraordinary speculations. Why I
came to see you was to ask you, Captain Gordon, if you had any kind of
opening. I should like a little spare time work, and I’d be most happy
to work with you.”
Dick was rather embarrassed, because the opportunities for employing Mr.
Johnson were few and far between. Nevertheless, he was anxious to help
the man.
“Let me give the matter a day or two’s thought,” he said. “What is
Maitland doing for a secretary?”
“I don’t know. That is my chief worry. I saw a letter lying on his desk,
addressed to Miss Ella Bennett, and I have got an idea that he intends
offering her the job.”
Dick could hardly believe his ears.
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know, sir, only once or twice the old man has inquired whether
Ray has a sister. He took quite an interest in her for two or three
days, and then let the matter drop. It is as astonishing as anything he
has ever done.”
Elk for some reason felt immensely sorry for the man. He was so
obviously and patently unfitted for the rough and tumble of competition.
And the opportunities which awaited a man of fifty worn to one groove
were practically non-existent.
“I don’t know that I can help you either, Mr. Johnson,” he said. “As far
as Miss Bennett is concerned, I imagine that there is no possibility of
her accepting any such offer, supposing Maitland made it. I’ll have your
address in case I want to communicate with you.”
“431, Fitzroy Square,” replied Johnson, and produced a somewhat soiled
card with an apology. “I haven’t much use for cards,” he said.
He walked to the door and hesitated with his hand on its edge.
“I’m—I’m very fond of Miss Bennett,” he said, “and I’d like her to know
that Maitland isn’t as bad as he looks. I’ve got to be fair to him!”
“Poor devil!” said Elk, watching the man through the window as he walked
dejectedly along Harley Terrace. “It’s tough on him. You nearly told him
about seeing Maitland this morning! I saw that, and was ready to jump
in. It’s the young lady’s secret.”
“I wish to heaven it wasn’t,” said Dick sincerely, and remembered that
he had asked Johnson to stay to breakfast.
CHAPTER XXI
MR. JOHNSON’S VISITOR
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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