The Road Of Crime

CHAPTER XV A FAMILY REUNION

“WHO are you?”

As Ezra Talboy put the question to his nephew, Graham Wellerton was astonished to observe the old man’s recuperative powers. He knew that his uncle was severely wounded; nevertheless, Ezra Talboy seemed to evidence no concern about himself. He was more interested in learning the identity of this stranger who had come to rescue him.

Graham Wellerton eyed his uncle coldly. He could see the avaricious gleam upon the old man’s face. He could see the scheming expression which he had always remembered Ezra Talboy to possess. With a grim smile, Graham gave a direct reply.

“I am your nephew,” he declared. “I am Graham Wellerton, your sister’s son.”

“I thought so.” Ezra Talboy chuckled weakly. “My nephew — come back to play the part of a good Samaritan. I suppose you feel that you have done a noble deed — to rescue me from those who were torturing me.”

“Some may feel that I deserve a bit of credit.”

“Some may,” snorted Ezra Talboy, “and some may not.

“I have no thanks to offer. I had no use for your father, with his foolish pride that he called ‘honor.’ I have no use for you, now that I observe you to possess his ridiculous characteristics.”

Graham Wellerton stared in amazement. Of all the despicable wretches he had ever known, Ezra Talboy was the worst. But for his own wounded plight, Graham would have yielded to the impulse of throttling the old scoundrel.

“I give you no thanks,” repeated Ezra Talboy. “I heard you were in town, and I was waiting for the time when you would come to greet me. You have chosen an excellent opportunity. I suppose you were passing by, wondering if it was too late to drop in and see your old uncle. You noticed that something was wrong, and came in to aid me.

“Do you know what this means? You are an intruder — like these dead men on the floor — so far as the law is concerned. You will be questioned when the sheriff arrives. I shall not say a word to save you.”

As the old man chortled gleefully, Graham Wellerton stared in amazement. He had classed Ezra Talboy as a black-hearted wretch; he did not believe such ingratitude was possible. He began to realize that his own meanness toward Ralph Delkin must have been a hereditary weakness. Ezra Talboy’s calloused attitude was the most incredible human quality that any man could possibly possess.

“I detest you,” declared Ezra Talboy. “I detest you because you remind me of your father. His honor — bah! I ended that folly when I deprived him of all he possessed. He was always proud of his son, always hypocritically sad because I had no children to be my heirs. He died penniless — your father — and now you return to reap a new harvest of my hatred!”

Ezra Talboy spat the final words, and his eyes glittered as he watched for their effect upon Graham Wellerton. The nephew, however, had caught the evil spirit of his uncle’s tone. With sudden inspiration, Graham determined to beat the old man at his game.

“You old fossil!” ejaculated Graham contemptuously. “Do you think I came here to save your useless hide? Do you think I have been living in Southwark in hopes of making friends with you? Do you think I threw myself into a battle with these bank robbers only on your account?

“You never were so wrong in all your life. Let me tell you a little about myself. I am a bank robber — and a capable one. These men who came here tonight were my underlings. They had double-crossed me. Their new leader — the only one who escaped — had tried to kill me.

“I suspected that they would come to Southwark. I was waiting for them. I knew they would attack your bank. I have been watching; and when they entered here tonight, I followed. You see the result. Three of the four are dead. One has escaped. He is a fugitive.

“You and I are alike, Uncle Ezra. We both are crooks. You work legitimately; I by stealth. You speak of revenge. What is your picayune grudge against me — my father’s son — compared to the score I had to settle with these yellow rats who now lie dead?

“You do not know the joy of vengeance. Nor do you know the joy of evil. You compared me with my father; the comparison is false. The qualities that I have inherited are yours — and I have done more with them in a few years than you have accomplished in a lifetime.

“I am no hero. I am a crook. I could kill you now; but I do not intend to do so. I am quite capable of handling any situation which may arise. When the sheriff arrives, I can convince him that I came here purely by chance. As a liar, I am as competent as you, Uncle Ezra.”

The sarcasm of Graham’s statement had its effect. By taking a negative treatment of everything that the old man had said, Graham had gained Ezra Talboy’s admiration. Graham’s story, true enough to be convincing, caused Talboy to stare in utter amazement at his nephew.

At last, the old man’s feelings became apparent. Vainly trying to arise from his resting place, Ezra Talboy extended his hand. He had recognized in his nephew a man as crooked as himself. Never in his life had Ezra Talboy paid tribute to anyone who was good of nature. His own soul was evil. He appreciated viciousness.

“So” — a coughing spell interrupted Ezra Talboy’s statement — “so — you take after your uncle. Good — good boy. I am very well satisfied. You are — a crook—”

The tones ended in a hoarse chuckle. Again, Ezra Talboy coughed. His eyelids closed. Graham Wellerton, contempt showing on his face, knew that he had tricked the man he hated. He had found Ezra Talboy’s weakness — an inherent love of evil.

All the while, burning eyes were studying this strange scene. Graham Wellerton did not see the observer who lurked beyond the door. His own gaze was upon Ezra Talboy’s huddled form. The watching optics disappeared as the throb of a motor sounded from somewhere outside.

To Graham Wellerton, that vague noise signified the arrival of the law. Calmly, despite his aching wound, Graham waited, with real confidence that all would go well. He was sure that his words had had effect. Soon he would know. The test was coming.

Two long minutes passed. Footsteps were stamping in the hallway. Three men burst into the room. With Sheriff Ellis Taussig at their head, the summoned rescuers stopped in awe as they observed two men living with three dead bodies close beside them.

Ezra Talboy opened his eyes. Before his uncle could speak, Graham Wellerton boldly forced the issue. Half rising from his chair, he spoke to Ellis Taussig.

“I came to see my uncle,” he asserted. “He was being tortured by these men. I saved him. This is the result.”

Ezra Talboy, evil admiration glowing in his eyes, spoke the words that Graham had hoped to hear.

“What my nephew says” — a cough came from Talboy’s blood-flecked lips — “is true. He — he came here at an opportune moment. He — he saved me from torture — and saved my life — for the present.

“Whatever he may tell you is correct. He worked to help me. He and I are in accord. We” — the old man’s lips formed a strange smile — “were having a family reunion. A reunion — after many years — many years—”

More men were coming into the room. One, evidently a physician, was leaning over Ezra Talboy’s form. He snapped quick orders. Two others picked up the old man and carried him from the room. Graham knew that they were taking Ezra Talboy to the hospital.

“Look after this fellow,” said Sheriff Taussig in a kindly tone, as he indicated Graham. “He looks done up.”

Graham smiled weakly as the doctor began to examine his wounded arm. It was not the fact that aid had come which caused his smile. It was the knowledge that a frank admission of his past, with no confession of his present change of heart, had served him well.

He was to be the hero, after all. Ezra Talboy would never tell the facts which Graham had admitted. The old man had explained the whole affair. He had called it a family reunion, in which his nephew had saved him from murderous death.

Yet through Graham’s brain throbbed a new thought — an idea which related to matters unexplained. Graham, alone, knew that he was not the one who had effected this rescue. Some unknown hand had brought about this present state of affairs.

Who had fired those shots from the doorway? Graham did not know. The possibility of The Shadow being here did not once occur to him. Graham knew only that some weird and hidden presence had intervened — that without its help, this odd reunion between himself and his uncle would never have been completed!