You listen to me. You write--straight off--to the
Royal Atlantic. Tell 'em you had some inquiry made about a man named
Parsons, who booked a passage with you for New York last November. Say
that on looking up your books you found that you unaccountably forgot to
send them the forms for him and his passage money. Make out a form for
that date, and crumple it up--as if it had been left lying in a drawer.
Enclose the money in it--here, I'll give you ten pounds to cover it," he
went on, drawing a bank-note from his purse. "Get it off at once--you've
time now--plenty--to catch the night-mail at the General. And then, d'ye
see, you're all right. It's only a case then--as far as you're
concerned--of forgetfulness. What's that?--we all forget something in
business, now and then. They'll overlook that--when they get the money."
"Aye, but you're forgetting something now!" remarked Murgatroyd. "You're
forgetting this--no such passenger ever went! They'll know that by their
passenger lists."
"What the devil has that to do with it?" snarled Pratt impatiently.
"What the devil do we care whether any such passenger went or not? All
that you're concerned about is to prove that you issued a ticket to
Parrawhite, under the name of Parsons. What's it matter to you where
Parrawhite, _alias_ Parsons, went, when he'd once left your shop? You
naturally thought he'd go straight to the Lancashire and Yorkshire
Station, on his way to Liverpool and New York! But, for aught you know,
he may have fallen down a drain pipe in the next street! Don't you see,
man? There's nothing, there's nobody, not all the detectives in London
and Barford, can prove that you didn't issue a ticket to Parrawhite on
that date? It isn't up to you to prove that you did!--it's up to them to
prove that you didn't! And--they can't.
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