Transcriber's Notes: 1. Page scan source: Google Books https://books.google.com/books?id=749DAQAAMAAJ THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY BY FERGUS HUME AUTHOR OF "THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB," "THE LADY FROM NOWHERE," ETC. LONDON CHATTO & WINDUS 1901 CONTENTS CHAPTER I. A MIDNIGHT SURPRISE II. THE HUT ON THE HEATH III. AN ELEGANT EPISTLE IV. ANOTHER SURPRISE V. A NINE DAYS' WONDER VI. THE MISSING KEY VII. IN DIXON'S RENTS VIII. AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW IX. INVESTIGATION X. ANOTHER DISAPPEARANCE XI. THE STRANGER XII. A STRANGE STORY XIII. A STRANGE STORY--_continued_ XIV. THE ENMITY OF CAPTAIN LESTRANGE XV. TROUBLE XVI. ALAN'S DEFENCE XVII. JOE'S EVIDENCE XVIII. A PORTION OF THE TRUTH XIX. A REAPPEARANCE XX. THE AMAZEMENT OF ALAN THOROLD XXI. THE STORY OF THE PAST XXII. THE BEGINNING OF THE END XXIII. ONE PART OF THE TRUTH XXIV. THE OTHER PART OF THE TRUTH THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY CHAPTER I. A MIDNIGHT SURPRISE Steering his course by a tapering spire notched in the eye of the sunset, a tramp slouched along the Heathton Road. From the western sky a flood of crimson light poured over the dusty white highway, which led straightly across the moor. To right and left, acres of sear coarse herbage rolled towards the distant hills, now black against the flaming horizon. In the quivering air gnats danced and flickered; the earth panted with the thirst of a lengthy drought, and the sky arched itself over the heat of a fiery furnace. For many hours the tramp had held on steadily in the pitiless glare of the mid-June sun, and now that he saw ahead of him the spire and house-roofs and encircling trees of the village whither he was bound, a sigh of relief burst from him. To ease his aching feet he sat down beside a moldering millstone and wiped his beaded brow with a red bandana. He did not swear, which was singular in a tramp. Apparently he had but recently joined the cadging profession, for about him there lingered an air of respectability and the marks of a prosperity not wholly decayed. He was stout, rubicund of countenance, and he wheezed like a sick grampus. Watery gray eyes and a strawberry nose revealed the seasoned toper; thick lips and a slack mouth the sensualist. As a begging friar of medæval times he would have been altogether admirable; as a modern tramp he was out of the picture. Clothed in a broadcloth frock-coat considerably the worse for wear, he wore--oddly enough for a tramp--gaiters over his gouty-looking boots. His black gloves were darned at the finger-tips, and his battered silk hat had been ironed and brushed with sedulous care. This rook-like plumage was now plentifully sprinkled with the white dust of travel. His gait, in spite of his blistered feet, was dignified, and his manners were imposing.