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Page 83
Mrs. Murgatroyd, a sharp-featured woman whose wits had been sharpened by
a ten years' daily acquaintance with poverty, came out of the shop into
the parlour and looked searchingly at her husband.
"What did them fellows want?" she demanded. "I knew one of 'em--Prydale,
the detective. Now what's up, Reuben? More trouble?"
Murgatroyd hesitated a moment. Then he told his wife the whole story
concealing nothing.
"If they go to the Royal Atlantic, it'll all come out," he groaned. "I
couldn't make any excuse or explanation--anyhow! What's to be done?"
"You should ha' had naught to do wi' that Pratt!" exclaimed Mrs.
Murgatroyd. "A scoundrelly fellow, to come and tempt poor folk to do his
dirty work! Where's the money?"
"Locked up!" answered Murgatroyd. "I haven't touched a penny of it. I
thought I'd wait a bit and see if aught happened. But he assured me it
was all right, and you know as well as I do that a hundred pound doesn't
come our way every day. We want money!"
"Not at that price!" said his wife. "You can pay too much for money, my
lad! I wish you'd told me what that Pratt was after--he should have
heard a bit o' my tongue! If I'd only known----"
Just then the shop door opened, and Pratt walked in. He at once saw
Murgatroyd and his wife standing between shop and parlour, and realized
at a glance that his secret in this instance was his no longer.
"Well?" he said, walking up to the watchmaker. "You've had Prydale
here--and you'd Eldrick this morning. Of course, you knew what to say to
both?"
"I wish we'd never had you here last night, young man!" exclaimed Mrs.
Murgatroyd fiercely. "What right have you to come here, making trouble
for folk that's got plenty already? But at any rate, ours was honest
trouble. Yours is like to land my husband in dishonesty--if it hasn't
done so already! And if my husband had only spoken to me----"
"Just let your husband speak a bit now," interrupted Pratt, almost
insolently. "It's you that's making all the trouble or noise, anyhow!
There's naught to fuss about, missis. What's upset you, Murgatroyd?"
"They're going to the Royal Atlantic people," muttered the watchmaker.
"Of course, it'll all come out, then. They know that I never booked any
Parsons--nor anybody else for that matter--last November. You should ha'
thought o' that!"
Pratt realized that the man was right. He had never thought of
that--never anticipated that inquiry would go beyond Murgatroyd. But his
keen wits at once set to work.
"What's the system?" he asked quickly. "Tell me--what's done when you
book anybody like that? Come on!--explain, quick!"
Murgatroyd turned to a drawer and pulled out a book and some papers.
"It's simple enough," he said. "I've this book of forms, d'ye see? I
fill up this form--sort of ticket or pass for the passenger, and hand it
to him--it's a receipt as well, to him. Then I enter the same
particulars on that counterfoil. Then I fill up one of these papers,
giving just the same particulars, and post it at once to the Company
with the passage money, less my commission. When one of these books is
finished, I return the counterfoils to Liverpool--they check 'em.
Prydale's up to all that. He asked to see the counterfoil in this case.
I had to say I hadn't got it--I'd sent it to the Company. Of course,
he'll find out that I didn't."
"Lies!" said Mrs. Murgatroyd, vindictively. "And they didn't start wi'
us neither!"
"Who was that other man with Prydale?" asked Pratt.
"London detective, I should say," answered the watchmaker. "And judging
by the way he watched me, a sharp 'un, too!"
"What impression did you get--altogether?" demanded Pratt.
"Why!--that they're going to sift this affair--whatever it is--right
down to the bottom!" exclaimed Murgatroyd. "They're either going to find
Parrawhite or get to know what became of him. That's my impression. And
what am I going to do, now! This'll lose me what bit of business I've
done with yon shipping firm."
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