The Clue of the Twisted Candles | Page 5

short laugh,
"and I haven't two thousand five hundred shillings at this moment."
"Will he wait?"
John Lexman shrugged his shoulders.
"Look here, Kara," he said, suddenly, "don't think I want to reproach
you, but it was through you that I met Vassalaro so that you know the
kind of man he is."
Kara nodded.
"Well, I can tell you he has been very unpleasant indeed," said John,
with a frown, "I had an interview with him yesterday in London and it
is clear that he is going to make a lot of trouble. I depended upon the
success of my play in town giving me enough to pay him off, and I
very foolishly made a lot of promises of repayment which I have been
unable to keep."

"I see," said Kara, and then, "does Mrs. Lexman know about this
matter?"
"A little," said the other.
He paced restlessly up and down the room, his hands behind him and
his chin upon his chest.
"Naturally I have not told her the worst, or how beastly unpleasant the
man has been."
He stopped and turned.
"Do you know he threatened to kill me?" he asked.
Kara smiled.
"I can tell you it was no laughing matter," said the other, angrily, "I
nearly took the little whippersnapper by the scruff of the neck and
kicked him."
Kara dropped his hand on the other's arm.
"I am not laughing at you," he said; "I am laughing at the thought of
Vassalaro threatening to kill anybody. He is the biggest coward in the
world. What on earth induced him to take this drastic step?"
"He said he is being hard pushed for money," said the other, moodily,
"and it is possibly true. He was beside himself with anger and anxiety,
otherwise I might have given the little blackguard the thrashing he
deserved."
Kara who had continued his stroll came down the room and halted in
front of the fireplace looking at the young author with a paternal smile.
"You don't understand Vassalaro," he said; "I repeat he is the greatest
coward in the world. You will probably discover he is full of firearms
and threats of slaughter, but you have only to click a revolver to see
him collapse. Have you a revolver, by the way?"

"Oh, nonsense," said the other, roughly, "I cannot engage myself in that
kind of melodrama."
"It is not nonsense," insisted the other, "when you are in Rome, et
cetera, and when you have to deal with a low-class Greek you must use
methods which will at least impress him. If you thrash him, he will
never forgive you and will probably stick a knife into you or your wife.
If you meet his melodrama with melodrama and at the psychological
moment produce your revolver; you will secure the effect you require.
Have you a revolver?"
John went to his desk and, pulling open a drawer, took out a small
Browning.
"That is the extent of my armory," he said, "it has never been fired and
was sent to me by an unknown admirer last Christmas."
"A curious Christmas present," said the other, examining the weapon.
"I suppose the mistaken donor imagined from my books that I lived in a
veritable museum of revolvers, sword sticks and noxious drugs," said
Lexman, recovering some of his good humour; "it was accompanied by
a card."
"Do you know how it works?" asked the other.
"I have never troubled very much about it," replied Lexman, "I know
that it is loaded by slipping back the cover, but as my admirer did not
send ammunition, I never even practised with it."
There was a knock at the door.
"That is the post," explained John.
The maid had one letter on the salver and the author took it up with a
frown.
"From Vassalaro," he said, when the girl had left the room.

The Greek took the letter in his hand and examined it.
"He writes a vile fist," was his only comment as he handed it back to
John.
He slit open the thin, buff envelope and took out half a dozen sheets of
yellow paper, only a single sheet of which was written upon. The letter
was brief:
"I must see you to-night without fail," ran the scrawl; "meet me at the
crossroads between Beston Tracey and the Eastbourne Road. I shall be
there at eleven o'clock, and, if you want to preserve your life, you had
better bring me a substantial instalment."
It was signed "Vassalaro."
John read the letter aloud. "He must be mad to write a letter like that,"
he said; "I'll meet the little devil and teach him such a lesson in
politeness as he is never likely to forget."
He handed the letter to the other and Kara read