The Halfpenny Surprise, Vol. I, No. 20 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

se) THE HALFPENNY SURPRISE. He had a sickly wife and five children, and was agree ably engaged in forming plans for benefiting them by this windfall. Suddenly the owner of that face at the window became strangely excited. Silhouetted on the landscape he saw a figure spring to the foot of the bridge, and instantly after there was a gleam of fire. Then the pony became restive and threw its rider. The figure was that of a man. He picked up the doctor and threw him into the brook. There need be no mystery about the assassin, who was none other than Dick Flinter. On retiring to his room he decided to waylay, murder, and rob the doctor. A man like this fiend in human shape, who held human life as cheap as dirt, was tempted by the prospect of obtaining a thousand pounds for one more upraising of his murderous hand, stained with the life blood of many victims. : A knotted rope suspended from the window of his bedroom secured a secret exit from Monk House. Once out of the ground, he, wearing a half mask, laid in wait for his victim and perpetrated foul murder and robbery. Skulking back through fields, to avoid the high road, he encountered a tramp lying asleep under a hay-stack. Thrusting three five pound notes into the pocket of his tattered coat, he made off and reached Monk House just as the clock in the turret chimed out eleven of the night. On looking for the rope, he found it gone. “Can my brother have visited my room in my absence P” he asked himself. Not a light was to be seen anywhere, so he concluded the household had retired fox the night, which was really the case. Climbing into the loft of the stables he rested on a truss of straw and fell asleep. He was up betimes, and entering the house unper- ceived gained his own room. The knotted rope lay on the floor. On the dressing-table was a paper, written in red ink, which ran as follows: ‘‘ Murderer! beware of coming doom! Meet me at the River of Death. This is a message from the other world !” Though somewhat startled by the document, he was quick to perceive that it had been placed there by human agency. “‘ Whoever you are, you’re overdoing your part,” he muttered; “ghosts don’t write such stuff as this. You are secreted in the Monk’s Room. I'll have the whole of the panelling down where your face appeared; then, your hiding-place will prove a River. of Death to you, in very truth!” _ The doctor’s body was found in the brook, and the tramp, who imprudently tried to change the notes in the village, was handed over to the police. The local bank, which had issued them, said they had been paid to Sir Percival Greene. He, in turn, admitted having paid them to Dr. Merton for professional services; though wondering greatly where those representing the balance of one thousand pounds were. Thus once again was Dick Flinter, the arch-villain, triumphant. True to his resolve to unearth the secret of the Monk’s Room, he entered at midnight—armed with a hammer and chisel—the death-chamber where all that was mortal of Robert Greene lay. Placing the candle on a convenient bracket, he pro- ceeded to work, intent upon another murder, should his quest succeed. Most men would have felt nervous amid such surroundings, with his victim lying in the same room. But he did not; and he struck blow upon blow at the spot where the supposed apparition had shown its face. oy Suddenly and silently a panel opened, and before he could make use of his revolver some substance was thrown in his eyes, half blinding him. Smarting with fear and pain he passed his hands in vain over the smooth woodwork in search of an opening. Groping for the candlestick, he knocked it off the bracket, when the burning wick fell among the folds of a muslin curtain. Pursned, by a smell of burning; he continued to grope his way forward until he reached the bed. By this time the room was well alight, and he feared that he would be hoist with his own petard, and perish in the flames. Going down on his hands and knees to escape the suffocating fumes of smoke, he crawled towards the door, which he had left ajar. Once through it he managed to reach his own room, and, after well rinsing his eyes, gulped down a stiff glass of neat brandy. Going to a drawer he drew forth a bundle of bank- notes, and thrust them hastily, but saiely, as he thought, into the side pocket of his coat. Then, after securing. the knotted rope which was lying on the floor, he descended from the window, not caring whether the other inmates made good their escape or not; but escape they did, and fled from the scene of disaster. He gave a chuckle of satisfaction on finding himself safe below, and instinctively thrust his hand into his pocket in search of the bundle of bank-notes. “JT am undone!” he hissed, “I’ve dropped the notes!” Lighting match after match, he searched for the treasure in vain. ’ *“T'll re-ascend to the room,” he muttered, “ the bundle fell out on the floor, no doubt.” Heclimbed up, hand over hand, with surprising agility, and reached the open window to find that the flames had invaded the room. He saw the bank-notes lying on the floor, and, with a ery of Joy, started forward to seize them; but a lurid stream of fire, like a flaming arm and hand, shot forth and burnt up the precious notes—the proceeds of murder—under his very eyes, and drove him back to the window in mad haste. On descending he raved like a lunatic, and, uttering horrible imprecations shook his clenched fist at the flames. Before help could arrive, Monk House was laid. in ashes, nota wall being left standing, and with it were cremated the mortal remains of the hapless Robert Greene. In such universal detestation was the baronet held, that not a single door was opened by his neighbours to receive him, so he and his brother made their way by an early train to London, and took lodgings at an hotel. : After dinner was over, Flinter said, as he smoked a choice cigar and drank wine: “By-the-way, Per- cival, you were insured, of course? ” “Yes ; why do you ask?” “T’ll tell you presently. If you deduct fifteen pounds from the total of a thousand, how much remains ? ” “This is no time for foolery,” snarled the baronet. “As you are in a grumpy humour Ill answer my own question: why nine hundred and eighty five, of course.” . “Did you make a memo of the numbers of the notes? I wanted to do so but you wouldn't let me.” “No, but the bank-cashier did.” “That’s all right. Make an affidavit before a Commissioner of Oaths that those notes, to the value.of nine hundred and eighty five pounds, were burnt in the fire at Monk House, and you'll recover that amount at the expiration of the time prescribed by statute-law. There’s a wrinkle for you, Percival; I’ve been eyes and brain to you all my life.” “ But they might turn up in the course of time?” “T think not; in fact, ?m positive they won't. My judgment in such matters is infallible. Wil you do as suggest P” “ Certainly; and now why did you ask me whether the house and contents were insured ?” : “To recover the amount of wy loss. me that, of course?” “ Yes, if your claim is moderate. lose the diamonds, Richard P” You'll recoup Surely you did not Part IV. of the “Halfpenny Surprise” contains four long and complete Stories, illustrated throughouw : and a Coloured Plate. Reprinted and now on sale, Price Twopence. ab chek comiclooks.comn