Trent’s Last Case

To
GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON.

My dear Gilbert,

I dedicate this story to you. First: because the only really noble motive I hadin writing it was the hope that you would enjoy it. Second: because I owe you abook in return for “The Man Who Was Thursday.” Third: because Isaid I would when I unfolded the plan of it to you, surrounded by Frenchmen,two years ago. Fourth: because I remember the past.

I have been thinking again to-day of those astonishing times when neither of usever looked at a newspaper; when we were purely happy in the boundlessconsumption of paper, pencils, tea, and our elders’ patience; when weembraced the most severe literature, and ourselves produced such light readingas was necessary; when (in the words of Canada’s poet) we studied theworks of nature, also those little frogs; when, in short, we were extremelyyoung. For the sake of that age I offer you this book.

Yours always,
E. C. BENTLEY

Contents

Chapter I.
Bad News

Between what matters and what seems to matter, how should the world we knowjudge wisely?

When the scheming, indomitable brain of Sigsbee Manderson was scattered by ashot from an unknown hand, that world lost nothing worth a single tear; itgained something memorable in a harsh reminder of the vanity of such wealth asthis dead man had piled up—without making one loyal friend to mourn him,without doing an act that could help his memory to the least honour. But whenthe news of his end came, it seemed to those living in the great vortices ofbusiness as if the earth too shuddered under a blow.

In all the lurid commercial history of his country there had been no figurethat had so imposed itself upon the mind of the trading world. He had a nicheapart in its templ

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