“You here already, Mr. French?” she greeted him.
“Yes. I want to get hold of some of those coins. Here is ten pounds’ worth of half crowns. Just count me out eighty of Mr. Welland’s.”
“But there’s nothing remarkable about them at all. They’re just ordinary half crowns. I’ve shown them to a friend of mine in a bank, and he said so too.”
“Oh,” said French, “so a bank clerk has seen them, has he? But were you not afraid to tell him about them?”
“I didn’t tell him at all. What I thought was that maybe they weren’t good, that maybe Mr. Welland’s friends was making them—counterfeit coining, don’t you call it? So I showed my friend four and said they’d been refused on the grounds that they weren’t good. He said they were perfectly all right.”
“Oh,” French repeated more dubiously. “Well, I’ll have the eighty all the same. You might let me see that bag now that we can’t be overlooked.”
It was just what Miss Moran had described, a plain but large vanity bag with a central compartment of normal appearance, and two side ones, each capable of carrying some hundred and fifty half crowns and fitted with an inside skin or bag which could be lifted out with the coins. When these side compartments were closed by their spring latches they were invisible to casual inspection, though if the bag were handled their existence became obvious. French was not surprised therefore to learn that Welland had given the strictest instructions that the bag was to be carried looped on the girl’s arm and never taken off except when she was actually working in the pay-box.
But his interest in the bag was but slight compared with that he felt in the coins which Miss Moran had received from Welland. There were 130 and he tumbled them out on a table and began to turn them over.
His first glance surprised him and increased that feeling of depression which the girl’s story of the bank clerk had aroused. That they were not new was undoubted; all had clearly been in circulation. Moreover the dates varied, and roughly speaking, the wear on any individual coin corresponded with its age.
Welland’s story was unlikely enough at the best, but here already was proof of its falsity. These coins had not been recalled from circulation because of age or wear. They were still perfectly good.
French swore internally as he realized the conclusion to which he was being forced. If these coins were of different dates and had been in circulation they were not forgeries. Dies were expensive and difficult to make and it was beyond belief that a series with different dates should have been obtained. Again, once the coins had been got into circulation the counterfeiters would have finished with them. They would not be trying to get rid of them now.
He set himself to reexamine the samples with greater care. And the more he did so, the more convinced of their genuineness he became. So far as his lens revealed the design, the detail seemed perfect, the colour, feel, and texture were normal, and every coin which he tested gave a satisfactory ring. He would of course have them examined by the experts at the Mint, but he had little doubt his own conclusion would be confirmed.
If so, it seemed to follow that the coins had been stolen. But he could not think of any source from which they might have been obtained. It was absurd to suppose they had been taken from the Mint. Coins of such an age and in such a condition would not be there. Nor did it seem likely that a bank had been robbed. Such an operation would be extremely difficult, and further, if it had been found possible, it was difficult to see why half crowns alone had been taken. The only explanation which French could devise was that some eccentrically minded miser had spent his life hoarding them. But if so, and Welland had stolen them, why should he hesitate to pay them out himself?
On this latter point, however, a little further thought supplied an explanation. The one feature of the affair which was clear beyond doubt was that it was being carried out on a very large scale. If Miss Moran changed eight hundred half crowns a week, it was to be presumed that each of the other girls did the same. Say, three thousand half crowns a week—150,000 a year! Nearly £19,000 worth. No one man could do it. Without some such organization as had been devised, the thing would be out of the question.
And then French saw that he had made a mistake. This consideration did not answer his question. For every half crown Welland gave the girls, he received one in exchange. How did he get rid of these latter? How did he get rid of them?
He simply could not do it! He had been watched too carefully. French did not believe he could have passed even small things like packages of “snow.” How much less comparatively bulky bags of half crowns! Once again French swore, this time half aloud.
“Beg pardon, Mr. French?”
His attention was recalled to the girl, whom in his abstraction he had forgotten.
“Just a little habit of mine,” he said, the twinkle reappearing in his eyes. “I think that’s all I want. I’ll take eighty of these half crowns of Welland’s and give you eighty of mine in exchange. Then you carry on as usual.”
“Very good, Mr. French.” She paused, then went on hesitatingly. “I wish you would tell me something about it. I don’t suppose you could, of course, but I’m frightfully interested.”
French glanced at her keenly, then smiled.
“I only wish I could,” he answered pleasantly. “If I knew enough to answer your question I’d be a much happier man. But I’ll soon know all about it and I’ll tell you then. In any case,
