E. W. Hornung_A J Raffles 01 Read Online Free PDF

who went about with
twenty-five thousand in his shirt-front and another twenty-five
on his little finger. He didn't exist. If he did, he wouldn't
have the pluck to wear them. But he had—he'd tell us why. And
before you could say Jack Robinson he had whipped out a whacking
great revolver!"
    "Not at the table?"
    "At the table! In the middle of his speech! But it was nothing
to what he wanted to do. He actually wanted us to let him write
his name in bullets on the opposite wall, to show us why he
wasn't afraid to go about in all his diamonds! That brute
Purvis, the prize-fighter, who is his paid bully, had to bully
his master before he could be persuaded out of it. There was
quite a panic for the moment; one fellow was saying his prayers
under the table, and the waiters bolted to a man."
    "What a grotesque scene!"
    "Grotesque enough, but I rather wish they had let him go the
whole hog and blaze away. He was as keen as knives to show us
how he could take care of his purple diamonds; and, do you know,
Bunny,
I
was as keen as knives to see."
    And Raffles leaned towards me with a sly, slow smile that made
the hidden meaning of his visit only too plain to me at last.
    "So you think of having a try for his diamonds yourself?"
    He shrugged his shoulders.
    "It is horribly obvious, I admit. But—yes, I have set my heart
upon them! To be quite frank, I have had them on my conscience
for some time; one couldn't hear so much of the man, and his
prize-fighter, and his diamonds, without feeling it a kind of
duty to have a go for them; but when it comes to brandishing a
revolver and practically challenging the world, the thing becomes
inevitable. It is simply thrust upon one. I was fated to hear
that challenge, Bunny, and I, for one, must take it up. I was
only sorry I couldn't get on my hind legs and say so then and
there."
    "Well," I said, "I don't see the necessity as things are with us;
but, of course, I'm your man."
    My tone may have been half-hearted. I did my best to make it
otherwise. But it was barely a month since our Bond Street
exploit, and we certainly could have afforded to behave ourselves
for some time to come. We had been getting along so nicely: by
his advice I had scribbled a thing or two; inspired by Raffles, I
had even done an article on our own jewel robbery; and for the
moment I was quite satisfied with this sort of adventure. I
thought we ought to know when we were well off, and could see no
point in our running fresh risks before we were obliged. On the
other hand, I was anxious not to show the least disposition to
break the pledge that I had given a month ago. But it was not on
my manifest disinclination that Raffles fastened.
    "Necessity, my dear Bunny? Does the writer only write when the
wolf is at the door? Does the painter paint for bread alone?
Must you and I be DRIVEN to crime like Tom of Bow and Dick of
Whitechapel? You pain me, my dear chap; you needn't laugh,
because you do. Art for art's sake is a vile catchword, but I
confess it appeals to me. In this case my motives are absolutely
pure, for I doubt if we shall ever be able to dispose of such
peculiar stones. But if I don't have a try for them—after
to-night—I shall never be able to hold up my head again."
    His eye twinkled, but it glittered, too.
    "We shall have our work cut out," was all I said.
    "And do you suppose I should be keen on it if we hadn't?" cried
Raffles. "My dear fellow, I would rob St. Paul's Cathedral if I
could, but I could no more scoop a till when the shopwalker
wasn't looking than I could bag the apples out of an old woman's
basket. Even that little business last month was a sordid
affair, but it was necessary, and I think its strategy redeemed
it to some extent. Now there's some credit, and more sport, in
going where they boast they're on their guard against you. The
Bank of England, for example, is the ideal crib; but that would
need half a dozen of us with years to give to the job; and
meanwhile Reuben Rosenthall is high