1900 anthology of short stories (first published in Pearson's
Magazine), dealing with Newton Moore, top agent of the British Secret
Service. (The "Fund" part is never explained, though it seems to have
been in general use at the time; I think the idea may have been that
Britain wouldn't want an actual secret service like those filthy
foreigners, but could have a fund to pay for occasional distasteful
but necessary actions.)
Like White's later The Doom of London, what we get here is a
very early example of what would become a genre and a cliché in later
years. This is a story of the Secret Service which came out when the
actual Intelligence Branch of the Quartermaster General's Department
had 13 officers for the whole of the Empire…
So one should not be surprised that the split between espionage and
counter-espionage is rather hazy at times. Yes, our hero foils the
plots of dastardly foreigners rather than creating plots of his own
and then defending them, but sometimes he does this in Britain, and
sometimes in various Ruritanias.
"By Woman's Wit" has our hero foiling the Russians' attempts to weaken
and then replace the Ruritanian prince; the plan to deal with this is
largely set up by the prince's wife, and Moore's part in it mostly
consists of waiting for the right moment and then hitting somebody a
lot.
From time to time she glanced in the direction of the Princess, and
then Moore saw plainly the full treachery of that flashing smile.
Nothing was lost to the eyes of the man who was a novelist as well
as a man of action.
"The Mazaroff Rifle" sees Moore tracking down the stolen plans for a
rifle which will revolutionise warfare.
The projectile is fired by liquid air, there are no cartridges, and,
as there is practically no friction beyond the passage of the bullet
from the barrel, it is possible to fire the rifle some four hundred
times before recharging. In addition, there is absolutely no smoke
and no noise.
Hmm. Well. Yes. A Gewehr 98 fires its bullets at twice the speed of
sound, so it's not just the burning powder that makes the bang… never
mind.
In any case, the thief makes a really major mistake, this leads our
hero to the mastermind, and a poison-gas trap is easily dealt with by
breaking the window.
"In The Express" is the gem of this collection for me: another
mastermind has to be persuaded to hand over the stolen McGuffin he has
in safekeeping, and this is done by Moore telling him while on a
train from Glasgow to London details of how the trial of his
underlings is going, even though he has clearly not been given a
telegram at the stops. It's a neat trick, and I enjoyed it.
"The Almedi Concession" has one of Those foreigners, an Indian prince
who becomes a drunken beast when out at play in London. But it also
has a decent death-trap, so there's that.
"The Other Side Of The Chess Board" wears its plot rather on its
sleeve, but is neatly done even so. (Drugs are bad.)
"Three Of Them" reveals that our hero is well aware of the whereabouts
of a fiendish foreigner who should not have been allowed to enter
England. So if the authorities know where he is, so as to be able to
tell Moore, why aren't they throwing him out? Eh, never mind. What to
my mind was an obvious piece of misdirection turns out to be the
critical clue.
All right, these are stories from a more naïve age; but they are
still worth reading now, and if you can enjoy the style of the day
they retain a significant period charm.
Freely available
from Roy Glashan.
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