Part 13 (1/2)
”About what?”
”Jake.”
”What was the character of the stories?”
”Well, they do say that the stepsons murdered him. Yes, one story was that Jake never went out in the boat, but a dummy went out in his clothes, one of the sons. Another story was that the son went out over night, laid for Jake on the sea, knowing his habits, and murdered him out on the water and sunk his boat and body, but I never took any stock in those wild tales. No, sir, Jake was not murdered, he just 'sloped'
to get away from his devilish second-hand relatives. I never blamed him; no, sir, I never did.”
Jack was the most delighted man that ever started out to ”shadow” a mystery. He had indeed started without a single clue, and he had made out a most wonderful case. He had traced and traced step by step, and was satisfied that Jake Canfield was the strange man who had deposited the money with Mr. Townsend, and what was far more important, he had established a _motive_ for the singular deposit, and this, as intimated, was the most important of all his discoveries. The adventure of Mr.
Townsend had been a very remarkable one; it was an incident that only the facts could explain, for no one could ever have imagined a series of incidents to account for so remarkable a proceeding. Jack felt that he could claim without dispute that his success thus far had been a remarkable detective feat--one of the most remarkable on record--but he was not through. He had several important links to supply, several incidents to explain. Of one fact our hero was a.s.sured: Jake Canfield had not been murdered, but he had indeed taken steps to guard against his second-hand family, as old Berwick called them, securing an estate which in some mysterious manner had come into Jake Canfield's possession. The detective had made great progress, but he had further to go. There was more light, however, s.h.i.+ning on his way; he had something tangible and clear to work upon.
Jack held a prolonged talk with Berwick, drawing out many little facts and incidents which it is not material to our narrative to record, and in good time he returned to the city of New York, and one night appeared at the elegant home of Mr. Townsend. He had given the old banker warning of his visit, and Mr. Townsend was prepared to receive him, and again saluted him with the appellation:
”Well, wonderful man, what have you to record now?”
”I have an announcement to make.”
”Of that I am sure.”
”Yes, sir, I can safely say now the chances are that you will be compelled to surrender the fortune.”
”Great Scott! young man, what is that you say?”
”You will be compelled to surrender the fortune.”
”Never,” came the declaration.
”Aha! then all your zeal was a 'fake?'”
”No.”
”What then?”
”It will never be necessary to compel me to surrender the fortune; I will be only too glad to do so--yes, delighted to do so in case the real heir can be found; but what have you discovered?”
”I have discovered that the man who visited you was Jake Canfield.”
”You have learned the name of the man?”
”I have.”
”Is he living?”
”We know that he is dead, killed on the railroad, but it is believed down where he was raised that he was drowned from his boat while out fis.h.i.+ng.”
”Then that accounts for his body not being identified.”