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Updated: June 26, 2025
Jarvice leaned back in his chair, and with a confident wave of his desk ruler had the air of producing the startling metamorphosis like some heavy but benevolent fairy. Walter Hine, however, was not attracted by the prospect. "But " he began, and at once Mr. Jarvice interrupted him. "I anticipate you," he said, with a smile. "Standing at the window there, I foresaw your objection.
Jarvice would have upon his heels a shrewd and watchful enemy; and in this particular business, such an enemy Mr. Jarvice could not afford to have.
As soon as the post-obit and the insurance policy are in this office, Mr. Hine, your first quarter's income is paid into your bank. I will have an agreement drawn, binding me on my side to pay you two thousand a year until your uncle's death." Mr. Jarvice rose as if the interview was ended. He moved some papers on his table, and added carelessly "You have a good solicitor, I suppose?"
"It had been sent a month before I found it. So I put it back into the drawer." "'What are you waiting for? Hurry up. Jarvice," said Chayne, slowly, and then he remembered how and when he had come across the name of Jarvice before. His face grew very grave. "We are in deep waters, my dear," he said.
Jarvice and Garratt Skinner in London the subsequent facts make plain. At Jarvice's instigation the plot to swindle Walter Hine becomes a cold-blooded plan to murder him. That plan has been twice frustrated, once by me in Dorsetshire, and a second time by Sylvia." So far the story worked out naturally, logically. But there remained two questions. For what reason did Mr.
Yet even when he spoke again, there was still a certain unsteadiness in his voice. "How did you come across Mr. Garratt Skinner?" he asked. "Barstow introduced me. I made Barstow's acquaintance at the Criterion Bar, and he took me to Garratt Skinner's house in Hobart Place." "I see," said Mr. Jarvice. "It was in Garratt Skinner's house that you lost your money, I suppose."
"And why?" he asked, leaning forward on his elbows and fixing his bright, sharp eyes on Walter Hine's face. Walter Hine shifted uncomfortably in his chair but did not answer. "And why can't you go?" he repeated. "I can't tell you." "Oh, surely," said Mr. Jarvice, with a scarcely perceptible sneer. "Come now! Between gentlemen! Well?" Walter Hine yielded to Jarvice's insistence.
"I think we have the means to do that," said Chayne. "We can point out to Walter Hine, for instance, that your ascent from the Brenva Glacier was an attempt to murder him." "An ugly word, Captain Chayne. You would find it difficult of proof." "The story is fairly complete," returned Chayne. "There is first of all a telegram from Mr. Jarvice couched in curious language."
"Yes, sir." "Well, you might find him this morning, give him some lunch, and bring him round to see me at three. See that he is sober." At three o'clock accordingly Mr. Walter Hine was shown into the inner room of Mr. Jarvice. Jarvice bent his bright eyes upon his visitor. He saw a young man with very fair hair, a narrow forehead, watery blue eyes and a weak, dissipated face.
Jarvice in their proper succession, and he interpreted them by his own experience. Captain Barstow, who was always to the fore, counted for nothing in the story as Jarvice understood it. He was the mere creature, the servant. Garratt Skinner, who was always in the background, prepared the swindle and pocketed the profits. "You are staying at the quiet house in Dorsetshire now, I suppose.
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