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A Shadow Before R f i By A Conan Doyle ^
N the 15th of July, 1870,
John Worlington Dodds
was a ruined gamester
of the stock exchange.
Upon the 17th he was
a very", opulont man.
And yet he had effected
the change without
leaving ithe penurious
little Irish townlet of
Dunsloe, which could
have been bought out
right for a quarter of
the sum which he had
earned during the sin
gle day that he was
within Its walls. There
Is a romance of finance
yet to be written, a
story of huge forces which are forever
waxing and waning, of bold operations,
of breathless suspense, of agonised fail
ure, of deep combinations which are baf
fled by others still more subtle. The
mighty debts of each great European
power stand like so many columns of
mercury, forever rising and falling to
Indicate the pressure upon each. He
who can see far enough Into the future
to tell how that ever-varying column will
stand tomorrow Is the man who has
fortune within his grasp.
John Worlington Dodds had many of
the gifts which lead a speculator to
success. He was quick In observing.
Just in estimating, prompt and fearless
in acting. But in finance there is al
ways the element of luck which, how
ever one may eliminate it, still remains,
like the blank at roulette, as a con
stantly present handicap upon the op
erator. And so It was that Worlington
Dodds had come to grief. On the best
advices he had dabbled in the funds of
a South American republic in the days
before South American republics had
been found out. The republic defaulted
and Dodds lost his money. He had
bulled the shares of a Scotch railway
and a four months’ strike had hit him
hard. He had helped to underwrite a
coffee company in the hope that the
public would come along upon the feed
and gradually nibble away some of his
holding, but the political sky had been
clouded and the public bad refused to In
vest. Everything wMch b* bad
- had aSd* Mr,
or his ▼harrlags, young, Cleat
and energetic, he was actually a bank
rupt, had his creditors chosen to make
him one. But the stock exchange is an
Indulgent body. What Is the case of
one today may be that of another to
morrow, and every one is interested In
seeing that the stricken man is given
time to rise again. So the burden of
Worlington Dodds was lightened for him,
many shoulders helped to bear It, and
he was able to go for a little summer
tour Into Ireland, for the doctors had
ordered him rest and change of air to
restore his shaken nervous system. Thus
it was that upon the 15th of July, 1870,
he found himself at his breakfast in the
fly-blown coffee room of the George hotel
in the market square of Dunsdoe.
It is a dull and depressing ooffee room
and one which is usually empty, but op
this particular day it was as crowded
and noisy as that of any London hotel.
Every table was occupied and a thick
smell of fried bacon and of fish hung
in the air. Heavily-booted men clattered
in and out. spurs Jingled, riding crops
were stacked in corners, and there was
a general atmosphere of horse. The
conversation, too, was of nothing else.
From every side Worlington Dodds
heard of yearlings, of wlndgalls. of roar
ers. of spavins, of crlbsuckers, of a hun
dred other terms which were as unintel
ligible to him as his own stock ex
change jargon would have been to the
company. He asked the waiter for the
reason of It all, and the waiter was an
astonished man that there should he
any one In this world who did not
know it.
•‘Shure it’s the Dunsloe horse fair,
your honor—the greatest horse fair in
all Oireland. It lasts for a wake, and
the dalers come from far an' near, from
England an' Scotland an' iverywhere.
If you look out of the winder, your
honor, you'll see the horses, aqd it 8
asy your honor's conscience must be or
you wouldn't slape so sound that the
cratures didn't rouse you with their
clatter.”
Dodds had a recollection that he had
heard a confused murmur, which had in
terwoven itself with his dreams—a sort
of steady rhythmic beating and clank
ing—and now when he looked through
the window he saw the cause of it. The
square was packed with horses from
end to end. grays, bays, browns, blacks,
chestnuts, young ones and old. fine ones
and coarse, horses of every conceivable
sort and size. It seemed a huge func
tion for so small a town, and he re
marked as much to the waiter.
■•Well, you see. your honor, the horses
don't live in the town an' they don't vex
their heads how small It Is. But It's in
the very center of the horse tradin' dis
tricts of Oireland, so where should they
come to be sould if it wasn't to Duns
loe?”
Tile waiter had a telegram in his hand,
and ho turned the address to Worlington
Dodds.
"Shure I niver heard such a name,
sorr. Maybe you could tell me who owns
It?”
Dodds looked at the envelope. Strel-
Icnhaus was the name.
' Xo, I don't know." said he. "I never
heard it before. It's a foreign name.
Perhaps if you were—”
But at that moment a little round-
faced, ruddy-cheeked gentleman, who|
was breakfasting at the next table, lean
ed forward and interrupted him.
“Did you say a foreign name, sir?"
said he.
"Strellenhaus is the- name."
“I am Mr. Strellenhaus—Mr. Julius
Strellenhaus. of Liverpool. I was ex
pecting a telegram. Thank you very
much."
He sat so near that Dodds, without
any wish to play the spy, could not help
to some extent overlooking him as he
opened the envelope. The message was
a very long one. Quite a wad of melon-
tinted paper came out from it. Mr.
Strellenhaus arranged the sheets me
thodically upon the tablecloth in front
of him. so that no eye but his own could
see them. Then he took out a note
book, and with an anxious face he began
to make entries in it, glancing first at
the telegram and then at the book, and
writing apparently one letter or figure
at a time. Dodds was Interested, for he
knew exactly what the man was doing.
He was working out a cypher. Dodds
had been a shock to him. Dodds had
suddenly the little man turned very pale,
as if the full purport of the message
had been a shock to him. Dods had
done that also, and his sympathies were
all with his neighbor. Then the
stranger rose, and, leaving his break
fast untasted, he walked out of the
room.
“I'm thinking' that the gintleman has
bad bad news, sorr,” said the confiden
tial waiter.
“Looks like It,” Dodds answered, and
at that moment his thoughts were sud
denly drawn into another direction.
The boots had entered the room with
a telegram in his hand.
“Where's Mr. Mancune?" said he to
the waiter.
"Well, there are some quare names
about. What was it you said?”
“Mr. Mancune.” said the boots, glanc
ing about him.
“Ah, there he is!” and he handed the
telegram to a gentleman who was sitting
. reading. the-jjS’I* * a^enengf-
Dodds* eyes had already" fatten upon
this man, and he had wondered vaguely
what he was doing In such company.
He was a tall, white-haired, eagle-nosed
gentleman, with a waxed moustache and
a carefully pointed beard—an artlsto-
cratic type which seemed out of its ele
ment—among the rough, hearty, noisy
,dealers who surrounded him. This,
then, was Mr. Mancune, for whom the
second telegram was intended.
As he opened it, tearing It open with
a feverish haste, Dodds could perceive
that it was as bulky as the first one.
He observed also from the delay In read
ing it that it was also In some sort
of cypher. The gentleman did not write
down any translation of It, but he sat
for some time with his hervous thin
fingers twitching among the hairs of his
white beard, and his shaggy brows bent
in the deepest and most absorbed atten
tion whilst he mastered the meaning
of it. Then he sprang suddenly to his
feet, his eyes flashed, gis cheeks flushed
and in his excitement he crumpled the
message up in his hand. With an effort
he mastered his emotion, put the paper
into his pocket, and walked out of the
room.
This was enough to excite a less astute
and imaginative man than Worlington
Dodds. Was there any connection be
tween these two messages, or was it
merely a coincidence? Two men with
strange names receive two telegrams
within a few minutes of each other,
each of a considerable length, each in
cypher, and each causing keen emotion
to the man who received it. One turned
pale. The other sprang excitedly to Ms
feet. It might be a coincidence, but It
was a very curious one. If It was not a
coincidence, then what could it mean?
Were they confederates who pretend to
work apart, but who each received iden
tical orders from some person at a dis
tance? That was possible, and yet
there were difficulties in the way. He
puzzled and puzzled, but could find no
satisfactory solution to the problem. At
breakfast he was turning it over in his
mind.
When breakfast was over he sauntered
out into the market square, where the
horse sale was already in progress. The
yearlings were being ^>ld first—tall,
long-legged, skittish, wild-eyed creatures,
who had run free upon the upland pas
tures, with ragged hair and towsey
manes, but hardy. Inured to all weath
ers, and with the making* of splendid
hunters and steeplechaser* when corn
and time had brought them to maturity.
They were largely of the thoroughbred
blood, and were being bought by Eng
lish dealer* who would Invest a few
pound* now on what they might sell
for fifty guineas in a few years If all
went well. It was legitimate specula
tion. for the horse Is a delicate creature,
he Is afflicted with many ailments, the
least accident may destroy his value,
he Is a certain expense and an uncertalm
profit, and for one who comes safely to
maturity several may bring no return
at all. So the English horse dealers
took their risks as they bought up the
shaggy Irish yearlings. One njan with
a ruddy face and a yellow overcoat took
them by the dozen with as much sang
froid as If they had been oranges: en
tering each bargain in a bloated note
book. He bought forty or fifty during
the time that Dodds was watching him.
"Who is that?” he asked his neighbor,
whose spurs and gaiters showed that he
was likely to know.
The man stared in astonishment at the
stranger's ignorance.
' trout rani.: He had opened his note
- ttJOk and was tapping his teeth reflec-
; lively with his pencil as he eyed the
horses.
‘•You’ll see a fight now between the
Unit seller and the first buyer in the
country,” said Dodds' acquaintance;
“Strellenhaus—Mr. Strellenhaus, of
Liverpool."
"It’s a new firm," said Dodds' neigh-
' bor. “I thought I knew them all, but I
never heard of him before.”
The salesman's head had disappeared,
for he was whispering with the breeder.
Dodds looKed at the envelope—Strellenhaus was the name
“Why. that's Jim Holloway, the great
Jim Holloway,” said he, then, seeing by
the blank look upon Dodds’ face that
even this information had not helped
him much, he went into details. “Sure
he's the head of Holloway & Morland,
of London,” said he. "He’s the buying
partner, and he buys cheap, and the
other stays at home and sells, and he
sells dear. He owns more horses than
any man In the world and asks the best
money for them. I dare say you'll
find that half of what are sold at the
Dunsloe fair this day will go to him,
and he's got such a purse that there's
not a man who can bid against him."
Worlington Dodds watched the doings
of the great dealer with interest. He
bad passed on now to the 2-year-olds
and 3-year-olds, full grown horses, but
still a little loose In the limb and weak
in the bone. The London buyer was
choosing his animals carefully, but hav
ing chosen them the vigor of his com
petition drove all other bidders out of
it. With a careless nod he would run
the figure up £5 at a time, until he was
left in possession of the field. At the
same time he was a shrewd observer,
and when, as happened more than once,
he believed that some one was bidding
against him simply In order to run
him up, the head would cease suddenly
to nod, the note book would be closed
with a snap, and the intruder would be
left with a purchase whi*h he did not
desire upon his hands. All Dodds’ busi
ness instincts were aroused by the tac
tic* of this great operator, and he stood
In fhe crowd watchtng^wltlr *be greatest
Interest *11 that occurred.*:
It la not to buy young homes, how
ever, that the great detier* come to
Ireland, and the real business of the
fair commenced when the 4 and 5-year-
olds were reached, the full-grown per
fect horses at their prime and ready for
any work or any fatigue. Seventy
magnificent creatures had been brought
down by a single breeder, a comforta
ble looking, keen-eyed, ruddy cheeked
gentleman who stood beside the sales
man and whispered cautions and pre
cepts into his ear.
"That's Flynn of Kildare.” said
Dodds' informant. “Jack Flynn has
brought down that string of horses,
and the other large string over yonder
belongs to Tom Flynn, his brother. Th*
two of them together are the two first
breeders in Ireland.”
A crowd had gathered in front of the
horses. By common consent a place
had been inadp for Mr. Holloway, and
Dodds could catch a glimpse of hi*
florid face and yellow covert coat In the
"They are a beautiful string, anyhow.
I shouldn't be surprised if he didn't av
erage five and thirty pounds apiece for
the lot as they stand.”
The salesman had mounted upon a
chair, and his keen, clean-shaven face
overlooked the crowd. Mr. Jack Flynn's
gray whiskers were at his elbow, and
Mr. Holloway immediately in front.
"You’ve seen these horses, gentlemen,”
said the salesman, with a backward
sweep of his hand toward the line of
tossing heads and streaming manes.
“When you know that they are bred by
Mr. Jack Flynn, at his place in Kildare,
you will have a guarantee of their qual
ity. They are the best that Ireland can
produce, and in this class of horse the
best that Ireland can produce are the
best in the world, as every riding man
knows well. Hunters or carriage horses,
all warranted sound and bred from the
best stock. There are seventy in Mr.
Jack Flynn’s string, and he bids me
say that If any wholesale dealer would
make one bid for the whole lot, to save
time, he would have the preference over
any purchaser.'”
There was a pause and a whisper from
the crowd In front,with some expressions
of discontent. By a single 9weep all the
small dealers had been put out of It. It
was only a long purse which could buy
on such a scale as that. The salesman
looked round him inquiringly.
"Come. Mr. Holloway,” said he at
last. "You didn't come over here for
the sake of the scenery. You may travel
the country and not see such another
string of horses. Give us a starting
bid.”
The great dealer was still rattling his
pencil upon his front teeth.
"Well,” said he at last. "They are a
fine lot of horses, and I won't deny it.
They do you credit, Mr. Flynn, I am
sure. All the same, I didn't mean to
fill a ship at a single bid In this fash
ion. I like to pick and choose my
horses.
"In that case, Mr. Flynn Is quite pre
pared to sell them in smaller lots,” said
the salesman. "It was rather for the
convenience of a wholesale customer
that he was prepared to put them all
up together. But If no gentleman wishes
to Wd—'■
“Walt a minute,” said a voice. “They
are very fine horses, these, and I will
glv* you a bid to start on. I will give
yon £20 each for the string of seventy.”
There was a rustle as the crowd all
swayed their heads to catch a glimpse
of the speaker. The salesman leaned for
ward.
“May I ask your name, sir?'’
Now he suddenly straightened himself
again.
"Thank you for giving us a lead, sir,”
said he. "Now, gentlemen, you have
heard the offer of Mr. Strellenhaus, of
Liverpool. It will give us a base to
start from. Mr. Strellenhaus has offered
£20 a head.”
"Guineas,” said Holloway.
“Bravo, Mr. Holloway. I knew that
you would take a hand. You are not
the man to let such a string of horses
pass away from you. The bid Is twenty
guineas a head.”
“Twenty-five pounds," said Mr. Strel
lenhaus.
"Twenty-six.”
“Thirty.”
It was London against Liverpool, and
it was the head of the trade against an
outsider. Still, the one man had In
creased his bids by fives and the other
only by ones.
Those five meant determination and
also wealth. Holloway had ruled the
market so long that the crowd was de
lighted at finding some one who would
stand up to him.
“The bid now stands at £30 a head,”
said the salesman. ‘The word lies with
you. Mr. Holloway.”
The London dealer was glancing keen
ly at his unknown opponent, and he wa|
asking himself whether this was a gen
uine rival, or whether it was a device
of some sort—an agent of Flynn's, per
haps, for running up the price. Little
Mr. Strellenhaus. the same apple-faced
gentleman whom Dodds had noticed In
the coffee room, stood looking at the
horses with the little quick glances of a
man who knows what he is looking
for.
"Thirty-one.” said Holloway, with the
air of a man who ha# gone to his ex
treme limit.
“Thirty-two," said Strellenhaus very
promptly.
Holloway grew angry at this persist
ent opposition. His red face flushed red
der still.
"Thirty-three.” he shouted.
“Thirty-four,” said Strellenhaus.
Holloway became thoughtful and en
tered a few figures In his note book.
There were seventy horses. He knew
that Flynn's stock was always of the
highest quality. With the hunting sea
son coming on he might rely upon sell
ing them at an average from forty-five
to fifty. Some of them might carry a
heavyweight and would run to three
figures. On the other hand there was
the feed and keep of them for three
months, the danger of the voyage, the
chance of influenza or some of those
Author of the
Famous SherlocK
Holmes Stories
other complaints which rqn through an
entire stable as measles go through a
nursery. Deducting all this, it was a
question whether at the present price
any profit would be left upon the trans
action. Every pound that he bid meant
£70 out of his pocket. And yet he could
not submit to be beaten by him to be
recognized as the head of his profession.
He would make one more effort if he
sacrificed his profit by doing so.
“At the end of your rope, Mr. Hollo
way?" asked the salesman, with the
suspicion of a sneer.
"Thirty-five,” cried Holloway, gruffly.
"Thlrty^six,” said Strellenhaus.
“Then I wish you Joy of your bargain,'*
said Holloway. "I don't buy at that
price, but I should "be glad to sell you
some.”
Mr. Strellenhaus took no notice of the
irony. He wa* still looking critically at
the horses. The salesman glanced round
him in a perfunctory way.
"Thirty-six pounds bid," said he. “Mr.
Jack Flynn's lot is going to Mr. Strellen
haus, of Liverpool, ait thirty-six pounds
a head. Golng-*-golng—"
"Forty," cried a high, thin, clear voice.
A buz* rose from the crowd and they
were all on tiptoe again, trying to catch
a glimpse of this reckless buyer. Being
a tall man Dodds could see over the oth
ers, and there at the side of Holloway he
saw the masterful nose and .aristocratic
beard of the second stranger in the coffee
room. A sudden pAsonal Interest added
Itself to the scene. He felt that he was on
the verge of something—something dimly
seen—which he could himself turn to ac
count. The two men with strange names,
the telegrams, the hor*ee—what was un
derlying it all?
The salesman was all animation again,
and‘Mr. Jack Flynn was sitting up with
hl3 white whiskers bristling and his eyes
twinkling. It was the best deal which he
had ever made in his fifty years of expe
rience.
"What name, sir?” asked the salesman.
"Mr. Mancune."
“Address?”
"Mr. Mancune, of Glasgow.”
“Thank you tor jrour
is a trea* bea been"
of Glasgow. Any. i
“Forty-one,” said Strellenhaus. .
"Forty-five,” said Mancune.
The tactics had changed, ar|l It was
the turn of Strellenhaus now to advance
by ones, while his rival sprang up by
fives. But the former was as dc%ged as
ever.
“Forty-six,” said he.
“Fifty,” cried Mancune.
It was unheard of. The most that the
horses could possibly average at a retail
price was as much as these men were
willing to pay wholesale.
"Two lunatics from Bedlam," whisper
ed the angry Holloway. "If I was Flynn
I would see the color of their money be
fore I went any further.”
The same thought had occurred to the
salesman.
“As a mere matter of business, gen
tleman,” said he, "it is usual In such
cases to put down a small deposit as a
guarantee of bona fldes. You will under
stand how I am placed, add that I have
not had the pleasure of doing business
_wt*h either of you before.”
vHow much?" asked Strellenhaus, brlef-
iy\
"Sffl^’ld w^-jpay flye hundred?”
“Here is a note for a thousand pounds.”
"And here is another,” j»Jd Mancune.
“Nothing could be ' 'Store handsome,
gentlemen,” said the salesman. ‘‘It's a
treat to see such a spirited competition.
The last bid was fifty pounds a head from
Mancune. The word lies with you, Mr.
Strellenhaus.”
Mr. Jack Flynn whispered something to
the salesman.
"Quite so! Mr. Flynn suggests, gen
tlemen. that as you are both Urge buy
ers, it would, perhaps, be a convenience
to you if he was to add the string of Mr.
Tom Flynn, which consists of seventy
animals of precisely the same quality,
making one hundred and forty in all.
Have you any objection, Mr. Mancune?”
"No. sir."
“And you, Mr. Strellenhaus?"
"I should prefer It.” '■
“Very handsome! Very handsome In
deed!" murmured the salesman. "Then I
understand, Mr. Mancune. that your offer
of fifty pounds a head extends to the
whole of these horses?"
“Yes, sir.”
A long breath went up from the crowd.
Seven thousand pounds at. one deal. It
was a record for Dunsloe.
“Any advance, Mr. Strellenhaus?”
“Fifty-one."
“Fiftv-flve."
“Fifty-six.”
“Sixty.”
They could hardly bflleve their ears.
Holloway stood with his mouth open,
staring blankly in front of him. The
salesman tried hard to look as if such bid
ding and such prices were nothing unusu
al. Jack Flynn, of Kildare, smiled be
nignly and rubbed his hands together.
The crowd listened in dead silence.
“Sixty-one,” said Strellenhaus. From
the beginning he had stood without a
trace of emotion upon his round face,
like a little automatic figure which bid
by clockwork. His rival was of a more
excitable nature. His eyes were shining
and he was forever twitching at his
beard. •
"Sixty-five,” he cried.
"Sixty-six."
“Seventy.”
But the clockwork had run down. No
answering bid came from Mr. Btrellen-
haus.
“Seventy bid. sir."
Continued on third page