The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 189: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ON THE PLYMOUTH EXPRESS. “T’ve often told you, Ferguson,” he said, “that a mystery is the best thing that can happen in a big case. It’s m the mystery that the clue lies. You know from your own experiences that it is the apparently simple cases that so often prove most baffling—the cases where there is no element of mystery.”’ “Go on; I know,” I said impatiently. “Well, it struck me at once that Rothwell must be pretty sure of his man to remain so stubborn in his iden- tification, even after he had, for policy’s sake, pretended to be convinced he was wrong. TF must say I admire that fat little millionaire’s shrewdness. He’d have made a fine detective.” “Tf he was right,” I argued. “Then came that walk with the Rothwells. We met Tomlinson — or Badstock—which is which, and what their real names are, we'll find out in due course. It was the first time Mrs. Rothwell had seen him since he dropped off the train about ten miles from Salis- bury. . | “Immediately we passed him, she clutched my arm and whispered ex- citedly: ‘That’s the man.’ She had heard all about Colonel Tomlinson, and I laughingly assured her she was mis- taken, but she persisted. ‘I know it 1s the man,’ she said; ‘he has a mole on the left side of his neck, just under the angle of the jaw.’ “T had noted that mole, Ferguson, and you know what I said about wom- en observing details. Mrs. Rothwell’s remark convinced me there was a mys- tery, and that gave me my clue. The rest was fairly easy. “To begin with, we have an educated crook dropping from a train. That man knew what he was doing, too, for the way he jumped with feet out, hort- zontal toward the engine, there was lit- tle danger; taking into consideration the nature of the ground., Thick grass up to the top of the grading, and clumps of yielding bushes all the way along, to stop him from rolling to the bottom. But he wouldn’t have chosen that spot if he hadn’t some means of getting 175 away. The telegraph would soon be working, and he would certainly be caught in a closely populated country like England. “Well, taking into consideration that he got to Plymouth on the express from Exeter—something over seventy mules away—there was only one ex- planation.” “Oh, what was that?” I interrupted in wonderment. “An aeroplane—and he must have made it zip, for he had to make seven minutes’ better time than the London express schedule to catch the West of England train at Exeter, and enough over to house the plane and get to the station. The distance would be about seventy miles, as the crow flies. “T soon found out that a man an- swering his description had brought an aeroplane to Salisbury for the meet there; but—he didn’t enter it for any of the contests. “Not far from the point where Bad- stock left the train I found a farmer who had lent the use of his barn to house an aeroplane which, according to the aviator’s story, had been giving en- gine trouble. That was two days be- fore the robbery. “The evening of the day after he arrived, the flying man left on his ma- chine again. But that was only a bluff. The barn in question being in a field, five hundred yards from the house, and not in use at the time, it was easy to re- turn later in the night and put his ma- chine under shelter again. The little son of the house had slipped down to the barn the following day and saw the machine. He had been ordered not to go near the barn, so said nothing at home, till I questioned him.” After listening to Harley’s recital, I saw that the case was fairly clear. “And the man who established the alibi at Chester got off at Exeter, I sup- pose?’”’ I said. “Yes, got off dressed in the tweed suit and cap you found him in. He was a bit of a fool, for he claimed the aeroplane two days later, from the liv- CoOMmicbook CO