"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 074 - Bells of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

before it reached England. Those fellows were held as suspicious characters. It is believed that they came
aboard to rob me.

"In London, I conferred with the authorities at Scotland Yard. They arranged for my passage aboard the
Laurentic. My jewels are safe on this ship. The New York police will see that I am protected when I
arrive tomorrow."

Messler paused with a beaming smile. He looked toward Cranston, as though expecting his companion
to give a story that would equal his own. Cranston spoke, quietly.

"My experience differs from yours," he stated. "I went to South Africa, prepared for adventure. I trekked
the veldt; then set forth through the jungle. I was the only white man in the expedition, until we had
passed Lake Victoria.

"Yet in my search for adventure, I found none. The entire trip lacked excitement. Danger existed; but it
never came close enough to be a menace. We bagged big game; but always in easy, methodical
fashion."

MILTON CLAVERLY smiled suavely. The contrast between the two stories amused him. He felt that it
was his turn to speak; so he presented a tale that differed completely from the others.

"I've been to a lot of places," stated Claverly, "and I've had my share of adventures. I wound up in
Adelaide, Australia, and I had pretty well decided to remain there, until a month ago.

"Then I received a cable. It announced the death of my father. The cable was from his lawyer. I was
needed back in the States. So here I am - on my way to collect a legacy. There's something of a mystery
about it, as near as I can make out."

"How so?" inquired Messler.

"My father was reputed to be very wealthy," replied Claverly. "At one time he just about owned the little
town of Torburg, where he lived. But his lawyer informs me that the affairs of the estate were quite
involved at the time of my father's death.

"I'll collect a worthwhile inheritance, I suppose. But it won't be as large as I might have expected. I guess
my father slipped plenty when he grew old. Lost his hold on business. Poor investments, probably. But
I'll make out all right. Torburg will be my home instead of Adelaide. Twelve thousand miles apart - that's
all - and it doesn't make much difference to a man who's traveled as often as I have."

Charles Rosling had risen from his chair. Steadying himself as the boat rolled, the hatchet-faced man
growled a few brief remarks.

"I've traveled plenty, too," asserted Rosling. "But it hasn't been for pleasure or adventure. Business -
that's all. I've got no jewels, no big game, no legacy. I don't want 'em. I'm tired of crossing this big pond
on a lot of tubs that jump around in bad weather. But I've got to do it, on account of business.

"That's my story. My idea of pleasure and adventure is holding some good hands in a card game. I didn't
get any tonight. All I did was get hooked for a bunch of dough. So I'm turning in to see if I can get six
hours' sleep out of the bum bunk I've paid too much for. Good night."