The Man from Brodney's Part 13

"Ah," said Baillo, with a cunning smile, "our man is also a great American. He can command the gunboats, too, sahib. We have told him that you have the great power. He shows us that he can call upon the English ships as well, for he comes last from London. He can have both, while you have only one. Besides, he says you cannot send a message in the air, without the wire, unless he give permission. He have a little machine that catch all the lightning in the air and hold it till he reads the message. Our man is a great man--next to Mohammed."

Britt pa.s.sed his hand over his brow, staggered by these statements.

Gnawing at his stubby mustache, he was compelled to stand by helplessly, while they crowded through the gates like a pack of hounds at the call of the master. The deserters were gone; the deserted stood staring after them with wonder in their eyes. Suddenly Britt laughed and clapped Deppingham on the back.

"Say, he's smoother than I thought. Most men would have been d.a.m.ned fools enough to say that it was all poppy-c.o.c.k about me sending wireless messages and calling out navies; but not he! And that machine for tapping the air! Say, we'd better go slow with that fellow. If you say so, I'll call him up and tell him we'll agree to his little old conference. What say to that, Browne? And you, Deppy? Think we--"

"See here," roared Deppingham, red as a lobster, "I won't have you calling me Deppy, confound your--"

"I'll take it all back, my lord. Slip of the tongue. Please overlook it.

But, say, shall I call him up on the 'phone and head off the strike?"

"Anything, Mr. Britt, to get back our servants," said Lady Deppingham, who had come up with Mrs. Browne.

"I was just beginning to learn their names and to understand their English," lamented Mrs. Browne.

When Britt reappeared after a brief stay in the telephone booth he was perspiring freely, and his face was redder, if possible, than ever before.

"What did he say?" demanded Mrs. Browne, consumed by curiosity. Britt fanned himself for a moment before answering.

"He was very peremptory at first and very agreeable in the end, Mrs.

Browne. I said we'd come down at four-thirty. He asked me to bring some cigarettes. Say, he's a strenuous chap. He wouldn't haggle for a second."

Britt and Saunders found the Enemy waiting for them under the awning in front of the bank. He was sitting in a long canvas lounging chair, his feet stretched out, his hands clasped behind his head. There was a far-away, discontented look in his eyes. A native was fanning him industriously from behind. There was no uncertainty in their judgment of him; he looked a man from the top of his head to the tips of his canvas shoes.

Every line of his long body indicated power, vitality, health. His lean, masterful face, with its clear grey eyes (the suspicion of a sardonic smile in their depths), struck them at once as that of a man who could and would do things in the very teeth of the dogs of war.

He arose quickly as they came under the awning. A frank, even joyous, smile now lighted his face, a smile that meant more than either of them could have suspected. It was the smile of one who had almost forgotten what it meant to have the companionship of his fellow-man. Both men were surprised by the eager, sincere manner in which he greeted them. He clasped their hands in a grip that belied his terse, uncompromising manner at the telephone; his eyes were not those of the domineering individual whom conjecture had appraised so vividly a short time before.

"Glad to see you, gentlemen," he said. He was a head taller than either, coatless and hatless, a lean but brawny figure in white crash trousers.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, displaying hard, sinewy forearms, browned by the sun and wind. "It's very good of you to come down. I'm sure we won't have to call out the British or American gunboats to preserve order in our midst. I know something a great deal better than gunboats. If you'll come to my shack down the street, I'll mix you a real American c.o.c.ktail, a mint julep, a brandy smash or anything you like in season. There's a fine mint bed up my way, just back of the bungalow. It's more precious than a ruby mine, let me tell you. And yet, I'll exchange three hundred carats of mint, Mr. Britt, for a dozen boxes of your Egyptian deities."

Then as they sauntered off into a narrow side street: "Do you know, gentlemen, I made the greatest mistake of my life in failing to bring a ton of these little white sticks out with me? I thought of Gordon gin, both kinds of vermouth, brandy, and all that sort of thing, and completely forgot the staff of life. I happened to know that you have a million packages of them, more or less, up at the chateau. My spies told me. I daresay you know that I have spies up there all the time? Don't pay any attention to them. You're at liberty to set spies on my trail at any time. Here we are. This is the headquarters for the Mine-owners'

a.s.sociation of j.a.pat."

He led them down a flight of steps and into a long, cool-looking room some distance below the level of the street. Narrow windows near the ceiling let in the light of day and yet kept out much of the oppressive heat. A huge ice chest stood at one end of the room. At the other end was his desk; a couch, two chairs, and a small deal table were the only other articles of furniture. The floor was covered with rugs; the walls were hung with ancient weapons of offence and defence.

"The Mine-owners' a.s.sociation, gentlemen, comprises the entire population of j.a.pat. Here is where I receive my clients; here is where they receive their daily loaf, if you will pardon the simile. I sit in the chairs; they squat on the rugs. We talk about rubies and sapphires as if they were peanuts. Occasionally we talk about our neighbours.

Shall I make three mint juleps? Here, Selim! The ice, the mint and the straws--and the bottles. Sit down, gentlemen. This is the American bar that Baedeker tells you about--the one you've searched all over Europe for, I daresay."

"Reminds me of home, just a little bit," said Britt, as the tall gla.s.ses were set before them. The Englishman was still clothed in reticence. His slim, pinched body seemed more drawn up than ever before; the part in his thatch of straw-coloured hair was as straight and undeviating as if it had been laid by rule; his eyes were set and uncompromising. Mr.

Saunders was determined that the two Americans should not draw him into a trap; after what he had seen of their methods, and their amazing similarity of operation, he was quite prepared to suspect collusion.

"They shan't catch me napping," was the sober reflection of Thomas Saunders.

The Enemy planted the mint in its bed of chipped ice. "The sagacity that Taswell Skaggs displayed in erecting an ice plant and cold storage house here is equalled only by John Wyckholme's foresightedness in maintaining a contemporaneous mint bed. I imagine that you, gentlemen, are hoping to prove the old codgers insane. Between the three of us, and man to man, how can you have the heart to propose anything so unkind when we look, as we now do, upon the result of their extreme soundness of mind? Here's how?"

Selim pa.s.sed the straws and the three men took a long and simultaneous "pull" at the refreshing julep. Mr. Saunders felt something melt as he drew the subsequent long and satisfying breath. It was the outer rim of his cautious reserve.

"I think we'll take you up on that proposition to trade mint for cigarettes," said Mr. Britt. "Mr. Browne, my client, for one, will sanction the deal. How about your client, Saunders?"

Saunders raised his eyes, but did not at once reply, for the very significant reason that he had just begun a second "pull" at his straw.

"I can't say as to Lady Deppingham," he responded, after touching his lips three or four times with his handkerchief, "but I'm quite sure his lordship will make no objection."

"Then we'll consider the deal closed. I'll send one of my boys over to-morrow with a bunch of mint. Telephone up to the bungalow when you need more. By the way," dropping into a curiously reflective air, "may I ask why Lady Deppingham is permitted to ride alone through the unfrequented and perilous parts of the island?" The question was directed to her solicitor, who stared hard for a moment before replying.

"Perilous? What do you mean?"

"Just this, Mr. Saunders," said the Enemy, leaning forward earnestly.

"I'm not responsible for the acts of these islanders. You'll admit that there is some justification in their contention that the island and its treasures may be s.n.a.t.c.hed away from them, by some hook or crook. Well, there are men among them who would not hesitate to dispose of one or both of the heirs if they could do it without danger to their interests.

What could be more simple, Mr. Saunders, than the death of Lady Deppingham if her horse should stumble and precipitate her to the bottom of one of those deep ravines? She wouldn't be alive to tell how it really happened and there would be no other witnesses. She's much too young and beautiful to come to that sort of an end."

"My word!" was all that Saunders could say, forgetting his julep in contemplation of the catastrophe.

"He's right," said Britt promptly. "I'll keep my own client on the straight and public path. He's liable to tip over, too."

"Deuce take your Browne," said Saunders with mild asperity. "He never rides alone."

"I've noticed that," said the Enemy coolly. "He's usually with Lady Deppingham. It's lucky that j.a.pat is free from gossips, gentlemen."

"Oh, I say," said Saunders, "none of that talk, you know."

"Don't lose your temper, Saunders," remonstrated Britt. "Browne's worth two of Deppingham."

"Gentlemen," said the Enemy, "please remember that we are not to discuss the habits of our clients. To change the subject, Britt, that was a--Oh, Selim, please step over to the bank and ask what time it is." As Selim departed, the Enemy remarked: "It won't do for him to hear too much. As I was saying, that was a clever bluff of yours--I mean the gunboat goblin. I have enlarged upon your story somewhat. You-----"

"Yes," said Britt, "you've added quite a bit to it."

"It's a sort of two-story affair now, don't you know," said Saunders, feeling the effect of the drink. They all laughed heartily, two, at least, in some surprise. Saunders never let an opportunity escape to repeat the joke to his friends in after life; in fact, he made the opportunity more often than not.

"There's another thing I want to speak of," said the Enemy, arising to prepare the second round of juleps. "I hope you won't take my suggestions amiss. They're intended for the peace and security of the island, nothing else. Of course, I could sit back and say nothing, thereby letting your clients cut off their own noses, but it's hardly fair among white people. Besides, it can have nothing to do with the legal side of the situation. Well, here it is: I hear that your clients and their partners for life are in the habit of gambling like fury up there."

"Gambling?" said Britt. "What rot!"

"The servants say that they play Bridge every night for vast piles of rubies, and turn the wheel daily for sapphires uncountable. Oh, I get it straight."

"Why, man, it's all a joke. They use gun wads and simply play that they are rubies."

"My word," said Saunders, "there isn't a ruby or sapphire in the party."

"That's all right," said the Enemy, standing before them with a bunch of mint in one hand and the bowl of ice in the other. They could not but see that his face was serious. "We know it's all right, but the servants don't. How do they know that the stakes are not what they're said to be?

It may be a joke, but the people think you are playing for real stones, using gun wads as they've seen poker chips used. I've heard that as much as 50,000 in precious gems change hands in a night. Well, the situation is obvious. Every man in j.a.pat thinks that your people are gambling with jewels that belong to the corporation. They think there's something crooked, d'ye see? My advice to you is: Stop that sort of joking. It's not a joke to the islanders, as you may find out to your sorrow. Take the tip from me, gentlemen. Let 'em play for pins or peppermint drops, but not for rubies red. Here's your julep, Mr. Saunders. Fresh straw?"

"By Jove," said Saunders, taking a straw, and at the same time staring in open-mouthed wonder at the tall host; "you appal me! It's most extraordinary. But I see your point clearly, quite clearly. Do you, Britt?"

"Certainly," said Britt with a look of disdain. "I told 'em to lower the limit long ago."

"This is all offered in a kindly spirit, you understand," said the magnanimous Enemy. "We might as well live comfortably as to die unseasonably here. Another little suggestion, Mr. Saunders. Please tell Lord Deppingham that if he persists in snooping about the ravines in search of rubies, he'll get an unmanageable bullet in the back of his head some day soon. He's being watched all the time. The natives resent his actions, foolish as they may seem to us. This is not child's play.

He has no right to a single ruby, even if he should see one and know what it was. Just tell him that, please, Mr. Saunders."