Golden Stories | Page 8

in fact, a sailor has done it in a
drunken freak more than once. Mind you, I don't say that murder was
intended in the first instance; but will presume that there was a struggle.
The thief probably lost his temper, and perhaps Mr. Skidmore irritated
him. Now, the rest was easy. It was easy to pack up the gold in leather
bags, each containing a thousand sovereigns, and to drop them along
the line at some spot previously agreed upon. I have no doubt that the
murderer and his accomplices traveled many times up and down the
line before the details were finally settled. Any way, there was no risk
here. The broken packing cases were pitched out also, probably in some
thick wood. Or they might have been weighted and cast into a stream.
Are you interested?"

The Marquis gurgled. He had some difficulty in speaking.
"A little dangerous," he said. "Our ingenious friend could not possibly
screw himself down in the coffin after returning to his compartment.
And have you perceived the danger of discovery at Lydmouth?"
"Precisely," Merrick said drily. "It is refreshing to meet with so
luminous a mind as yours. There were many dangers, many risks to
take. The train might have been stopped, lots of things might have
happened. It would be far better for the man to leave the express. And
he did so!"
"The express at top speed! Impossible!"
"To the ordinary individual, yes. But then, you see, this was not an
ordinary individual. He was--let us suppose--an acrobat, a man of great
nerve and courage, accustomed to trapeze work and the use of the
diving net."
"But Colonel, pardon me, where does the net come in?"
"The net came in at a place near Little Warlingham, on the Norfolk
coast. There are miles of net up there, trap and flight nets close by the
side of the line. These nets are wide and strong; they run many furlongs
without supports, so that an acrobat could easily turn a somersault on to
one of these at a given spot without the slightest risk. He could study
out the precise spot carefully beforehand--there are lightships on the
sands to act as guides. I have been down to the spot and studied it all
out for myself. The thing is quite easy for the class of man I mean. I am
not taking any great credit to myself, because I happened to see the
body of the man who essayed that experiment. I recognized him for----"
"You recognized him! You knew who he was?"
"Certainly. He was Luigi Bianca, who used to perform in London years
ago, with his brother Joseph, on the high trapeze. Then one of them got
into trouble and subsequently embarked, as the papers say, on a career
of crime. And when I saw the body of Luigi I knew at once that he had

had a hand in the murder of Mr. Skidmore. When the right spot was
reached the fellow took a header in the dark boldly enough, but he did
not know that the storm had come with a very high October tide, and
washed the nets away. He fell on the sands and dislocated his neck. But
I had something to go on with. When I found out about the bogus
corpse I began to see my way. I have been making careful inquiries
ever since for the other criminal----"
"The other criminal! You mean to insinuate----"
"I insinuate nothing," Merrick said coldly; "naturally enough I wanted
to find Joseph Bianca. He was the man who picked up the gold; he was
the man who hired a car in London from Moss & Co., in Regent Street,
for a week. This was to recover the gold and incidentally also to take up
the thief who stole it. I wanted to find Joseph Bianca, and I've done it!"
The Marquis leaped to his feet. As he did so the man in the distant chair
woke up and moved across the room.
"Don't make a fuss!" Merrick said quietly. "You will be able to explain
presently--perhaps what you are doing here posing as a Marquis, and
where you got all that ready money from. Meanwhile, let me inform
you that I am Inspector Merrick, of Scotland Yard, and that this is
Sergeant Matthews. Joseph Bianca, you are my prisoner, and I have a
warrant for your arrest as an accessory before and after the fact for the
murder of Mr. George Skidmore. Ask them to call us a cab, Matthews!"

II
OVER THE GARDEN WALL
The Story of a Vacation
By LOUISE HAMILTON MABIE
THE impression, which floated vaguely as a perfume in the wake of the
departing Mr. and Mrs. Jasper Prentiss, adapted itself pleasingly to any

point