"DERLETH, August - The Adventure of the Seven Passengers (A Solar Pons story)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Derleth August)

Our visitor tapped his shoe impatiently with his stick. "Certainly not, Mr. Pons. The papers were stolen!"

"Ah, that is more like it," said Pons. "Perhaps you would like to tell us exactly what occurred."

St. John nodded and began at once. "We were on the train this morning, coming from . . ."

Pons interrupted him with a grimace of exasperation. "Pray be so good as to start from the beginning, Mr. St. John. You say 'We'--who, besides yourself? You were on a train--it follows that you spent the night out of the city; yet you are presumably in close attendance upon the Naval Conference."

Our visitor flushed, and his hand closed more tightly upon his stick, a gesture of which Pons took no notice. "I take it you are aware, Mr. Pons, that his lordship, the Minister of War, is convalescing at his country home near Windsor?"

Pons nodded.

"His lordship stipulated that he be fully acquainted with the happenings at the Conference; he desired complete, detailed reports in writing. Since it is largely upon Lord Stapleton that the ultimate results of this Conference rest, his lordship had no difficulty in obtaining his request. In consequence, it devolved upon seven carefully selected men to carry this report to him. Every evening, following the Conference, these seven men, of whom I was one, took a carriage at Paddington. Each man carried in a wallet, kept in his inner coat pocket, a portion of the detailed report in code. I myself carried the most important of the papers; the remaining six men carried the rest. I occupied a compartment alone; my companions divided two compartments between them. In this fashion we arrived at Windsor and reported to his lordship. We were required to spend the night there, and took an early morning train back to the city.

"For the last six days, I was not alone in my compartment. An elderly gentleman, apparently a tradesman of some kind, occupied my compartment with me. This man did not attract my attention until I began to find that no matter how irregular our hours were at night, he managed somehow to take the same train we did, and showed up promptly at my compartment, for the occupation of which he had most courteously requested and continued to request. I had never in any way associated any suspicion with him, for he seemed a rather harmless and decrepit old person, but I admit to a certain vague uneasiness during the past week.

"Yesterday, as the papers have been hinting all week, marked the crisis of the Conference, and as a consequence we carried in addition to yesterday's reports a fully detailed report of the entire work of the Conference to date. Thus far, the work of this Conference has been most rigidly excluded from the press, and it was considered best for this policy to continue for at least the period of a year. In the meanwhile, carefully censored reports were to be supplied the press. Should the press at this moment get hold of these genuine reports which were stolen from us this morning as we rode to the city, the entire work of the Conference would collapse."

"It is difficult to conceive in what manner such a collection of papers could possibly be stolen from seven agents," said Pons with keen interest.

St. John gestured with his hands. "They were stolen, Mr. Pons. I can tell you how they were stolen from me, but as for my companions--I do not know." He shrugged his shoulders.

"And how were they stolen from you?"

"Unfortunately," said our visitor in some embarrassment, "I believe I fell asleep. At least, I can remember drawing out of Windsor, and after that no more, until I came to my senses in the midst of the roar of Paddington Station."

"You have no conscious knowledge of falling asleep?"

"None!" exclaimed our visitor, shaking his head. "Absolutely none. I could not even swear that I had slept, but it must have been so. The compartment was very close, for the air was chill outside, and there was nothing open."

Pons began to chuckle. "I fancy you have fallen victim to a very clever little plot. Unfortunately, it is rather old, though to all appearances still very workable."

"Indeed," said St. John, "what is it, then?"

"You were drugged, and I daresay your companions were similarly treated, but they, unlike you, are unwilling to admit that they fell asleep at the post."

"On the contrary, I ate and drank nothing which might have had such an effect on me," protested Mr. St. John.

"Certainly not," agreed Pons. "You very probably inhaled it. Was the old gentleman in your compartment again this morning? Ah, I see in your eyes that he was. And he was nowhere in evidence when you came to your senses at Paddington."

"You are quite right, Mr. Pons. My companion had vanished," answered our visitor, looking ruefully at Pons.

Pons nodded abstractedly. "If I were to ask you to describe your traveling companion I should in all probability learn that his features were very indistinct; he probably wore dark glasses, perhaps also a beard, a heavy coat--an ulster, most likely--and no doubt also a scarf wound tightly about his neck and chin."

St. John colored; he opened his mouth once, or twice as if to speak, but no words came.

"Am I right, Mr. St. John?"

Our visitor nodded curtly. "You might have seen the man, Mr. Pons. He wore an ulster, yes. He also wore a scarf and dark glasses. He had a moustache, but no beard.