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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Great Secret"


Only you see it wasn't I!"
"A man who called himself Hardross Courage," Gilbert repeated,
bewildered. "It's an uncommon name."
"The men who killed him," I answered, "thought that they had killed me.
It's a long story, Gilbert. I've come here to tell you a little of it, if
you can spare the time."
"Time! Of course I can," he declared. "Wait one moment while I go to the
telephone."
I checked him on the way to the door.
"Not a word of this to any one, Gilbert," I said. "Not even to Groves
there!"
He nodded and hurried out of the room. When he returned, he had taken off
his hat and overcoat. He drew up two easy-chairs and produced a box of
cigars.
"Now then!" he exclaimed, "for the mysteries! By Jove, I'm glad to see
you, Hardross! Light one of those--they're the old sort---and go ahead."
"You're not a nervous person, are you, Gilbert?" I asked quietly.
"I don't think so," he answered. "You've given my nerves a pretty good
test just now, I think! Why do you ask?"
"Because I am going to tell you secrets," I answered, "and because there
are men in the world, men in London close to us, who, if they knew, would
kill us both on sight.


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