Chapter 36: Chapter 36
Mrs. Goss was boarding nearby, in William Street, so she and Gabriel walked off
together after bidding Mr. Gladman good night and wishing him well for Christmas.
They were walking past the post office when a bearded man with a large paunch and
a carrier's white cap and apron came from behind a pillar and down the steps and
walked alongside them.
"Clear off!" said Fox . "Go away, or I won't care what happens I'll call the police." He
was so angry he would have sworn but for the presence of the startled Mrs. Goss.
"Gawd, you're hard on me," whined Benno, for he was in a new disguise. “Gimme ten
bob and I'll hook it. Wocka's missus wouldn't let me in the house so the boys are
going to get me on the Sydney boat as a deckhand. I would have been at sea by now
only she blew a valve or something so she won't be going until tomorrow or the day
after. Fair dinks, Gabby, yer gotta help me. I can't even go back to the sixpenny rope
now. The rozzers found me there once so I betcha they'll be back to have another
look. O'Hanlon says it's more than his license is worth to have me in his pub, so what's
a man to do? You gotta get me into your place and give me a bed. Amy won't mind,
she's a mate of mine."
"Oh yes she will, and you're not coming anywhere with me. If you keep hanging round
like this I'll call the police."
"Well, gimme a dollar then. I gotta have something. If you give me the five bob I'll
keep an eye on that stuff you're sending to Sydney, if you don't it can go to bloody
hell."
Fox turned on him. "What do you mean? We're not consigning anything to Sydney."
"Yes you are. I was there at the wharf when it arrived. I know the carriers and I heard
them say it was from Gladman's. There was a prissy little bloke came with them and
he said the crates were to go on to the Sydney boat. Like I told you; it would have
been half way down the bay by now if the engine hadn't clapped out. They had to send
to Ballarat for a part; don't ask me what it was I wouldn't know."
"Who was the man with the carriers?" asked Mrs.Goss tensely. "Did he say his name
was Memsworth?"
"I didn't talk to him, missus! How the hell should I know what his name was. All I
know is that stuff was put on the boat for Sydney. There was a bit of a row when he
The Young Marvel
195
found out that the boat wasn't going that night and he wanted to put it on another one
but the next steamer doesn't leave until the day after Boxing Day. Anyway, they said
they couldn't put any cargo on board until the engine was fixed and they knew when
it was sailing. Right now your stuff's in store down at the wharf."
"That's where I'm going," said Fox . "Mrs. Goss, can I take you home because I want to
go straight round to the police station. I think there is something seriously wrong
here. If Mr Gladman's goods are supposed to go to Mornington but they'e going to
Sydney instead, well, it's worth looking into."
"I'm coming with you," stated Mrs. Goss "If that man has cheated us I will report him
to the authorities myself. He is a wicked deceiver and should be punished."
Fox was a little surprised at Mrs. Goss's denunciation of the errant Mr Memsworth. A
stream of complaints about cruel deceitful men issued from her lips as they hurried
away leaving Benno by the steps of the post office. He was not invited to go with them
and did not want to come. His opinion was that anyone who entered a police station
without being taken there was mad and deserved anything that might happen to them
when they got there.
He was shouting out these sentiments and others to express his poor opinion of
Gabriel's generosity and lack of mateship as the couple crossed Bourke Street. The
noise drew the attention of some police constables who were standing on the other
corner. They were bored and were about to investigate his behaviour when he
decided it might be more prudent to follow the departing couple.
"Who is he?" asked Mrs. Goss when she heard the patter of his feet running after
them and had turned to look, "And could you ask him to moderate his language."
By dockside standards his flow of language was not too bad and he had restrained
himself a little in Mrs. Goss's presence but it was still too racy for a lady.
"Keep the noise down," said he said grimly to Benno. "You nearly went to the police
station whether you wanted to or not. If you do that sort of thing again you'll go
straight to the cells. They know you at the station and you're on the wanted list for
breaking Gladman's window. You won't get out of prison for years."
"Is this the man that smashed them?" asked Mrs. Goss. She was delighted to meet the
miscreant who had perpetrated the outrage on Mr Gladman's premises. "That's
marvellous. I'm glad you did that, it used to be so boring working for that man. Now,
between you and Mr Fox and Mr Pryor and the entertainers and everything else it's
like a show going on all the time. This makes me feel better when I think of that
horrible man Memsworth.”
"Have you got a dollar on ya, Missus?" asked Benno as he tried to walk
inconspicuously beside them. He looked back from time to time and though the police
were standing under the gas light looking in their direction they did not seem
interested in following.
The Young Marvel
196
"How much is a dollar?" enquired Mrs. Goss. "Is it another word for a pound?"
"He means five shillings and if you give it to him it will be spent on beer or medicine
like the other money he was given today."
"Gaw strike me!" cried Benno. "You don't ease up on a man, do yer? I want the five
bob for me bed and a breakfast and how can I buy the medicine I need with what's left
out of a minjy oxford? I'm sick and you don't care. You got thirty odd quid of mine
and I can't get it out of you. If I'd kept that money I would'a been allright by now. It'll
be a lesson to me not to trust any bloody new chums in future."
"It's a lot of money," said Mrs. Goss doubtfully. "Should I give it to him? I have to work
hard for five shillings."
Fox stopped and faced them. "Don't bother, Mrs. Goss. I'll give him a shilling and
that's the stone, motherless end. Not another penny; he can just whistle for it because
I won't put up with this sort of thing any longer. I will send him money every quarter;
but not here in Melbourne, because it would cause endless trouble. Benno, you write
to me from Sydney. As soon as I get a letter I will forward a cheque for your quarterly
interest and you can do what you like with it, but don't come back annoying us."
He took a coin from his waistcoat pocket and gave it to Benno. "Alright, that's it. We're
going to the police station so you can't follow us there and thank heavens for that."
"I can't read or write," said Benno sullenly. "I told you I started late and the father
kicked me out of school after about a month. He said he couldn't put up with me any
longer."
"I know how he felt. Well, get someone else to write a note for you. I don't care, as
long as you're in Sydney and I'm down here."
"If you was on the bone of yer backside I wouldn't let you down," shouted Benno to
their receding figures. He looked cautiously up and down the street lest any
policeman should be lurking in a shop doorway. Fox was determined to ignore him
and would not look back, though Mrs. Goss kept looking over her shoulder. Benno
was an original, she had never met anyone like him before and it took her mind off the
possible cheating of the Honourable Adrian.
Benno followed them for a while shouting complaints about his treatment but
disappeared when they turned the corner and came in sight of the police station.
Gabriel asked to see a detective and was a little uncomfortable to find Mr Jones still on
duty. He wondered if Mrs. Goss would mention the encounter with Benno and
decided to do it first.
"The Sydney boat, eh? That's interesting," the man said, making an entry in his
notebook. He was engrossed in their story about the Hon. Adrian and seemed to
recognise him from the description.
The Young Marvel
197
"I think we'll go down to the wharf now," he said. "No problem, we can knock up the
nightwatchman. You may be able to identify the merchandise. If you can we will
inspect the manifest to see what name he is using and leave instructions that it is not
to go aboard any ship. If we lay low until after Christmas we might just catch Billy
when he comes to check the freight for Sydney. You can be stiff, you know. If it hadn't
been for the ship's engine breaking down he would have been in Sydney before the
cheque was returned from the bank. He's probably had a busy day going round to
shops like yours and leaving a trail of dud cheques for merchandise. When we
investigate we might find there has been a procession of vans to the wharf all day. It
wouldn't surprise me if he and his mate in Sydney had an auction arranged on the
wharf, It's been done before, but not for a while." He chuckled. "If I'm right about this
little caper it's just as well the loot didn't go on the Mornington boat, the weight
would have sunk it."
"Billy!" said Mrs. Goss. "Isn't his name Memsworth at all?"
"No, from your description I'd say it was Billy Summers. He and his mate worked a
swindle during Cup week, or so I heard, even though there was no official complaint. I
reckon he might be lucky if we get him before the bookies do. I'm not surprised he's
off to Sydney, probably Melbourne's too hot for him now."
"Then he doesn't have a mansion or friends at Mornington? All that was just part of
his lies?"
"I would be surprised if he owns the clothes he was wearing and he probably had the
cards printed on tick. No, I don't think you should waste your time going to
Mornington to look for his house."
"Flogging's too good for the man!" Mrs. Goss was enraged that her dreams were
being torn away by the exposure of this swindler. "I'll go with you to the wharves if it
takes all night."
"It's no place for a lady down there, especially in the middle of the night," was
detective Jones' doubtful response, but his qualms were swept aside by Mrs. Goss's
determination to have the scoundrel brought to justice.
A police wagon was called for and soon they were rattling over the timbers of the
wharf to pull up before the large, arched doorway of a bluestone warehouse.
Sometimes gangs of men worked all night loading and unloading ships but that night,
because of the season, there was no one at work and the heavy wooden doors were
barred shut, illuminated by a gas lamp mounted on a bracket over the keystone.
Detective Jones thumped on the planks of the door and shouted to be let in.
Only one ship lay at the wharf but more were tied up at other wharves up and down
the river. Most appeared deserted, though entry lights were burning dimly on each
one. Over the water came the faint sound of a banjo playing a popular tune; It
stopped when the detective hammered on the warehouse door.
The Young Marvel
198
The ship at the wharf was a two master with a single funnel and two cargo hatches
covered and wedged down. They guessed that this was the ship that should have
been on its way to Sydney. As in the warehouse there was no sound or movement on
board though a security light burned over the gangway.
After waiting a few moments to see if anyone was going to answer the door Fox stood
on tip toe and held himself up by the bars to peer through the window of the
warehouse. It was quite dark, no light, nothing to indicate that a night-watchman was
on duty and locked inside. The noise of the detective banging on the door echoed
around the quiet docks.
"There should be somebody about," muttered the detective. "Even on Christmas Eve
the company wouldn't leave the place without a night-watchman. If there's no one
here I'll have something to say to the manager after Christmas." He banged on the
door again and the noise re-echoed from the quiet docks on the other side of the river.
"Who's making all that racket?" Roared a voice from the ship and a yellow square of
light appeared as a door was opened at deck level. "You've no call to be making a
noise enough to wake the fishes in the water this holy season."
The person on the ship took the lantern down from a bracket and turned up the wick.
He stumped loudly over the gangplank and held it up so the light shone on the
intruders. "Ye'll explain yourselves," he said. "This is a private wharf and ye've no
shadow of a right to come on it in the middle of the night without permission and
make a racket that would draw the dead from their graves. If you've come from one
of they parties with wine and beer and spirits and think you can roar and carouse on
this wharf just as you please well, ye can think again."
The speaker was a man in his forties with a bushy black beard . The beard merged
with the hair on his head and upper lip, though it stopped short above his ears. There
was no hair at all on his skull. In spite of the warmth of the night he wore a heavy
jacket and seaman's trousers. This bulky figure advanced on them holding the lantern
high while Mrs. Goss stepped backwards to stand behind Gabriel .
"I am Detective Sergeant Jones of the Victoria Police," said that individual, showing his
authority to the bearded man.
He looked at it by gas and lamplight and said gruffly, "So, ye're a detective from the
police; it wouldn't matter if ye were the Prince of Wales himself it doesn't give ye the
right to come in the middle of the night, on Christmas Eve, of all times, and make a
noise like that."
The uniformed policeman who had driven them there got down from his box and
came over to see if he was needed. Detective Sergeant Jones waved him away.
The stranger seemed more impressed by the uniform than the written authority but
did not abate his aggressive manner. "And who might these be?" He demanded
directing the lantern light to Fox and Mrs. Goss.
The Young Marvel
199
"Witnesses!" retorted the detective. "They have information that could assist police
inquires. Now, I am seeking information about certain articles that may have been
loaded on to this ship or could still be in the warehouse. We know they were brought
to the wharf this afternoon and consigned to Sydney."
"I know nothing of freight," said the man abruptly. "If ye want to ask about
consignments and cargo ye'd best come back when the supercargo reports in, or the
wharfinger. My duty is to assist in the care of the ship and to guide her safely, under
God's providence, to wherever the owners may direct. When we get our valve
repaired we'll be off to Sydney, but that'll no be for a day or two."
"What about the night watchman? Why isn't he here on duty; don't tell me he's
cleared off."
The bald man shrugged. "There's nobbut me here. The watch was on the dock
earlier but I think he's a man of wrath and has taken himself to the fleshpots of
Babylon. No doubt he will answer for his transgressions when Auld Nick calls the
sinners of the world to account."
They gathered from this that the errant night watchman must have slipped away to
the nearest pub. They were at an impasse unless the detective was to authorise a
policeman to stand guard and wait.
"Is there no one else?" enquired Fox .
The man shook his head. "I told you, there is no one here on the wharf and ship but
me." He paused. "That is, there are none of the crew on board though we have a
saloon passenger who's staying put because he expected to be sailing this day and
he's closed up his house in Toorak and sent away all the servants. A man of substance,
but good company for a seafaring man such as myself in spite of all."
"What is he like?"
"A godly man who has been to the four corners of the world and seen almost as much
of the works of the creator as I have. We've been sitting there swapping our
experiences of life. The failure of the bank has gone very hard with him and he will
have to start his life over again in Sydney."
"We would like to meet this gentleman," said the detective, "do you mind if we step
aboard."
The seaman said nothing but stood aside and let the light from his lantern fall on the
gangplank. Mrs. Goss crossed the narrow chasm over the water with gasps and
trembling but at last stood on the deck of the steamer, gazed around in astonishment
and then had to be assisted over the raised sill in the doorway. She had never been on
a ship before.
The first class passenger saloon into which they had entered was panelled with birdseye maple set off with teak framing and embellished with polished brass fittings and
The Young Marvel
200
portholes, and a number of handsome bevelled glass mirrors. Built against the wall
were padded benches where the stewards could serve passengers from tables
screwed to the floor.
In the middle of the saloon was a much larger dining table it too was firmly fixed to
the floor.
There was no one in the saloon though on a corner of a table were two tumblers
partly full of spirits to show where the seaman and the passenger had been sitting
talking.
By this time they had introduced themselves and discovered that the man they had
met was Dawkins, first mate of the ship.
He looked keenly round the saloon. "The passenger must have stepped out for a
minute. If you want to seat yourselves I would be pleased to treat the gentlemen to a
dram while you're waiting. It will be harder to find the lady something to drink
though, with a bit of a search, I might be able to break out a bottle of lemonade."
"I'm on duty," said detective Jones. "I thank you for the offer, but I can't drink. What I
would like is to get a sight of this passenger of yours."
First mate Dawkins was looking at him in astonishment when they heard a loud
thump from outside.
Jones leapt to his feet. "Quick!" He moved to the door on the opposite side to where
they had entered. They all hurried out on to the deck but could see nothing at first
because the night was very dark and their eyes were dazzled from the light in the
saloon.
After a few moments Mrs. Goss pointed to a row boat that was drifting in the current.
The person at the oars was keeping a cautious distance away but was grinning up at
them. They had met him earlier in the day as the Honourable Adrian Memsworth.
Ah, Mrs. Goss, Mr Fox and Mr Jones; you are all well I trust." He cried while moving
the oars from time to time to stay in the one place. "I'm sorry, but certain pressing
engagements draw me away. I can't stay and enjoy your company. Mrs. Goss, I regret I
will have to withdraw my invitation for a musical soiree but as soon as I re-open the
house at Mornington you will be the first to be invited."
"You horrible man!" shouted Mrs. Goss leaning dangerously over the rail and shaking
her fist, something she had never done before.
"You're very cruel my darling," said the trickster, still grinning, "don't be too hard on
me, you can have the goods I bought from that pompous old ass, Gladman. They're all
yours; just tell him I said you could have them."
"Come back here, Summers," ordered the detective sternly. "If you try to escape you
will only make things worse for yourself. Come back and I'll tell the court that you
The Young Marvel
201
gave yourself up quietly."
"Thanks for the offer," was the reply, "but I've tried Her Majesty's hospitality at
Pentridge and I don't want to sample it again. If you don't mind I'll love and leave
you."
"Summers, this is your last warning!" said the detective, "Either come back to the
ship or I will spread the word among certain bookie friends of yours that you are still
in Melbourne. If they get you before we do you won't be worth finding afterwards."
Memsworth-Summers lay on his oars for a minute. "You wouldn't do that would you,
sergeant?"
"Try me. There are certain characters out there have been asking very urgently for
you and your mate. They couldn't get at you in a police cell."
"Couldn't they?" he retorted. "I might be alright in Melbourne jail but once I was out
at Pentridge there would be no escape. No thanks, I'll take my chances out in the wide
world." He started to row to the wharves on the other side of the Yarra."
By this time Dawkins, the first mate, had discovered, in a low voiced conversation
with Gabriel , what was going on. He stepped up to the rail. "Come back, you," he
roared in a voice that had been heard over many a gale and sliced through the din of
fog horns. "You borrowed two quid off me, you bloody liar, bring it back or I'll come
over there and pull your guts out, and that boat's company property. I warn you, I'll
thump you and the company will lay criminal charges." He said all this interlarded
with abuse of the most lurid kind and continued with a stream of profanity of which
Mrs. Goss, fortunately, understood very little.
They quietened him after a minute as the row-boat receded towards the further
shore. He was abjectly apologetic when he realized all the terrible things he had been
saying in the presence of a lady, but detective Jones had little time for talk.
"Get your glass out and keep it on the boat," he said urgently. "I want you to mark
exactly where he goes ashore. He might have to climb a fence or go past a night
watchman to get off the wharf and then he will have difficulty getting transport on
that side of the river, unless he rows upstream past Queensbridge; we might catch
him on foot. I'm going off to alert the patrols and the River Police but we'll want to
know whether he's upstream or down from here. So someone will be back later on for
the information. Come on, you two," he said "I'll take you back to Bourke Street. You
won't be needed again tonight."
"Well," said Dawkins, who was surveying the far side of the river through his spy
glasses. "I'll bid you goodnight and apologise for my behaviour. I can see you had
every right to come on the wharf and make that rumpus and I bitterly regret I forgot
myself so far as to blaspheme before a lady and my creator. It was the thought of
losing £2 that I could ill afford to a liar and a cheat and how I listened like a gowk to
his tales about his mansion at Toorak and his travels that would have made the
The Young Marvel
202
Wandering Jew look like a stay at home. It all rose up in me throat when I thought
how I'd been cheated and cozened. But enough of me complaining. I'll be here on the
boat on Christmas Day; if ye want to visit a plain sea faring man, and a sinner to boot
I'll be happy to give you the dram you missed and apologise for my discourtesy."
"I'll come!" Volunteered Mrs. Goss promptly. "No man should have to sit on his own
on Christmas day. You can show me over the ship and tell me about the places you
have been. That will be better than talking to that dreadful Memsworth man."
"Will you now? I'll be very pleased to see you and we can break out that wee bottle of
lemonade I was talking about."
They had to go then, Detective Jones was anxious to start the hunt for the trickster.
He let them down from the carriage in Bourke Street, at the police station, to finish
their interrupted walk home.
"A very interesting day," said Mrs. Goss complacently. Memsworth had roved but a
shadow and a fraud ,but he had been replaced in her esteem by the first mate and
now she was looking forward to another kind of Christmas day visit. "I have been so
glad to meet you and Mr Pryor. The music business was terribly dull with only old
Gladman for company, but with you two around all sorts of exciting things happen. I
just hope they catch that horrible man and put him in jail for ten years."