DIVIDED WAYS
With the coming of winter the two Englishmen found fewer opportunities
of employing their leisure time. They both paid short visits to
Shanghai, but could not long be spared from their branches. The intense
cold made hydroplaning or flying a pastime of doubtful pleasure, and
they had to fall back on their own resources, or on the recreations
afforded by the European society of the town.
Burroughs did not care for what he called "racketing." He was fond of
reading, and preferred an evening with his books to social functions.
He joined Errington in games of draughts, chess or dominoes; but these
sedentary amusements had few attractions for the more active and
restless member of the chummery, who could not find in reading, either,
a substitute for his usual recreations. Occasionally they went out
shooting together: the reed-beds of the river abounded in wild fowl; but
the country was becoming more and more disturbed; the unrest which is
always fermenting in out-of-the-way parts of China broke out in riots
and other disorders; and one day they received a polite request from the
viceroy of the province to keep within the precincts of the settlement.
The viceroy had a nervous dread lest they should come to some harm, and
their Government cause trouble, which would result possibly in his
dismissal from office and the consequent loss of opportunities of
enriching himself, or even, if the matter were very serious, in the loss
of his buttons. As peaceable traders they had no option but to comply
as gracefully as possible with this request: though if they had had no
business interests to consider, they would have been prepared to take
the risk of the attacks to which small parties of Europeans are
frequently exposed in the remoter provinces, especially during periods
of popular excitement.
The result of this enforced idleness on Errington was that he fell more
readily than he might otherwise have done to the temptation of
Reinhardt's card-parties, which became during the winter a nightly
institution. Reinhardt was now seldom absent, and with one or two other
Germans in the settlement he spent the long evenings over cards.
Errington would sometimes rise from his seat in the little sitting-room
he shared with Burroughs, pace the floor restlessly, then, with a glance
at his companion engrossed in a book, slip out, more or less
shamefacedly at first, but afterwards with scanter offers to justify
himself, and make his way to Reinhardt's bungalow, where he was always
assured of a warm welcome.
It was unfortunate that he should find himself possessed of an unusual
aptitude for cards: still more unfortunate that for a time he had the
luck that proverbially attends beginners. The card-players played for
stakes, and as the season advanced, the amount of the stakes, as so
frequently happens, advanced too. Errington never deliberately intended
to play high, but he was almost insensibly led on by the example of the
older men; and having begun, he lacked the firmness to withdraw, and
shrank from appearing less of a sportsman than the others.
As was only to be expected, the luck presently turned against him, and
one night, after long play, he found himself not only stripped of all
his money, but in debt to Reinhardt. This position was irksome to a
high-spirited temperament. The idea of owing money to his superior was
unendurable, and after a restless night, during which he slept little,
he resolved to borrow from his chum enough to clear him.
"Got a few dollars to spare, old chap?" he said with an assumed
light-heartedness at breakfast.
Burroughs flushed, and cast his eyes upon his plate: an onlooker would
have thought from his manner that he was the culprit. He knew very well
what was coming, and felt instinctively what Errington had suffered
inwardly before he could have brought himself to this point.
"You can have what you like, Pidge--in reason, of course."
"Thanks. I could do with twenty or thirty dollars just now. Sorry to
trouble you."
"Oh, hang it, man, don't talk such rot. What's mine's yours any time you
like."
Errington pocketed the money hastily, and spoke of something else. His
discomfort was so obvious that Burroughs hoped he would drop the
card-playing forthwith. Until the monthly cheque for his salary
arrived, indeed, Errington absented himself from Reinhardt's parties.
He repaid Burroughs at once, and for a week or two never went out in the
evening. But then the old restlessness crept upon him; once more he
joined the jolly party; then not an evening passed without his leaving
the chummery as soon as it was dark, not to return until long past
midnight. His losses became more serious, and he played again in an
attempt to retrieve them, only to plunge deeper still.
One morning, with pale face and stammering lips, quite unlike his wonted
self, he asked Burroughs for the loan of a hundred dollars.
"All right, old man," said his friend, determinedly cheerful, "but
aren't you going the pace rather?"
"What do you mean?" demanded Errington hotly, his old resentment at
restraint flaming forth.
"Well, it's no affair of mine, of course, but it's a pity, don't you
think, to let that fellow Reinhardt get the whip hand of you?"
"Confound you, why are you always girding at Reinhardt? What's he done
to you? Anybody would think he's an ogre, waiting to crunch my bones, to
hear you talk." He ignored the fact that for months Burroughs had not
once opened his mouth on the subject. "What's a fellow to do if he
can't enjoy a harmless game? It's all straight; you don't suppose I'd
play with sharpers; and one can't always win. You don't want me to
shirk it when I lose, I suppose? I tell you what it is: you're getting
mean and miserly; you're afraid you won't get your beastly money back."
"You know me better than that, Pidge," said Burroughs quietly. "You're
a bit off colour, old chap. Here's your hundred; pay me when you like."
If Errington had obeyed his impulse at that moment he would have
apologized to Burroughs, and renounced Reinhardt and all his works once
and for ever. But shame, the sense of being in the wrong, false pride,
and above all the gambler's perpetual hope of success, tied his tongue,
and the precious moment slipped away.
Burroughs was very much surprised to get his money back within a few
days--before, as he knew, Errington had received any further remittances
from Shanghai.
"Much obliged, Moley," Errington said as he laid the notes beside his
friend's plate one morning.
Burroughs glanced up, but Errington would not meet his eye; so with a
"Thanks, old man!" as casual as Errington's own remark, he put the notes
into his pocket and began cheerfully to talk shop. But he was much
disturbed in mind. If his chum had won the money, it would encourage
him to go on gambling. If he had not won it, how had he obtained it so
soon? Burroughs hoped with all his heart that he had not borrowed of
Reinhardt or any other German of the set. It was bad enough that
Reinhardt should entice his subordinate to play at all; and the low
opinion that Burroughs held of him fell still lower.
He would have been even more perturbed had he known the real source of
Errington's money. Restive under the disapproval, of which he was
conscious, though Burroughs never again uttered it, the lad was foolish
enough to apply to the Chinese money-lenders. They were ready to oblige
a young Englishman, and fixed their interest to match the risk, as they
said: which meant that they would squeeze as much as possible out of him
by working on his fears of exposure and disgrace.
The nightly card-parties went on, and Errington became a constant
attendant. There grew up a constraint between the two friends.
Burroughs was anxious and worried, and could not help showing it.
Errington, in his own worried state of mind, was annoyed at his friend's
manner, all the more because he knew very well that he himself was in
the wrong. His high spirits gave way to moodiness and irritability, and
after a time he avoided Burroughs. It was a trying position for both of
them, inmates of one lodging. They saw less and less of each other, and
when they could not but meet, what conversation passed between them was
almost confined to business matters.
Naturally the affairs of the few Europeans in the town were freely
discussed by their native servants and their cronies. Vague rumours came
to Burroughs' ears, after a long round, of what went on at Reinhardt's
card-parties. It appeared that Reinhardt himself was frequently the
winner when the stakes were high, and Burroughs became less and less
tolerant of a man who ought to have been particularly scrupulous in
keeping his subordinate out of mischief. Reinhardt was always very
polite and pleasant when he met Burroughs, but on more than one occasion
the latter was rude to him. There were no half measures with Burroughs.
One day, talking shop because they seemed to have now no other common
topic, Burroughs mentioned to Errington that he was negotiating a very
large transaction with a Chinese broker, and stated the terms on which
the consignment of goods was to change hands. Errington congratulated
him on the prospect of doing a good stroke of business, and the subject
dropped.
Next day, however, at the last moment, the negotiations fell through, to
Burroughs' great annoyance. It was a loss to his branch, and
incidentally to himself, for both he and Errington had a small interest
in the turnover of their branches, as well as a salary. He was also
vexed at having mentioned the matter to Errington, when it was so unlike
him to talk about things that were still uncertain.
What was his surprise and irritation a few days later to hear from his
comprador that the transaction in which he had failed had been completed
by Errington, who had overbid him.
"Nonsense! Absolute rot!" he said to the man, feeling indignant on his
friend's behalf.
The comprador spread out his hands deprecatingly and said--
"Allo lightee savvy all same, sah. Mass' Ellington he go buy all jolly
lot."
"Shut up; I don't believe it."
The Chinaman shrugged: surely his master was very short this morning!
But he said no more. Two days after, however, he brought Burroughs the
order for the goods, written on the official paper of Ehrlich Soehne,
and signed with Errington's initials. At this, even a friend of long
standing might well be staggered. Burroughs remembered that his chum
had been looking more and more worried of late. He came to breakfast
with a pale face and weary eyes, and the look of a man who had not
slept. Could it be that, in his urgent need of money, he had fallen to
the temptation of snatching this business out of the hands of the other
house? If it had been Reinhardt, Burroughs would not have been at all
surprised; but that Errington had taken advantage of the information
casually given him to steal a march on his friend was inconceivable.
Burroughs knew perfectly well that at the time when negotiations were in
progress with him, Feng Wai, the Chinese merchant, had made no overtures
to the German firm, so that there was no question of the firms being
played off against each other. Besides, it had always been an
understanding between the two old school-fellows that, a price having
once been named, each should abide by it.
The position was unendurable to Burroughs, who at once stepped over to
Errington's office, and walked, as he had always been accustomed to do,
though not frequently of late, straight into his room. Once, Errington
would have sprung up from his seat with a hearty word of greeting: now
he remained sitting, with a look of embarrassment.
"I say, Pidge," began Burroughs, trying to speak in an ordinary tone,
"what's this I hear about Feng Wai doing better with you than with me?
I told you, you remember, that I had practically concluded the deal."
Burroughs was but a poor actor, and his manner, rather than his tone,
told Errington that he was labouring under some strong feeling. Nervous
and irritable as he was, Errington at once took offence.
"I shouldn't listen to gossip, if I were you," he said; "next time come
straight to me."
"As it happens, I have come straight to you as soon as I had seen with
my own eyes what I wouldn't believe when I heard it. I don't want any
more information than your signature."
"Look here, do you mean to be offensive, or can't you help it? Say
straight out that you think I've gone behind your back, if you do think
it."
"Well then, if you want it straight, you shall have it," said Burroughs,
losing his temper. "I've seen your order, signed with your initials.
After our agreement it would have been bad enough if I'd said nothing to
you; but having myself given you the terms, in confidence, as I
supposed----"
"That's enough!" cried Errington, springing up, his eyes ablaze with
anger. "You've been looking accusations against me for months past, and
I've had enough of it. You always had the makings of a fine prig. Until
you beg my pardon, I swear I'll have nothing more to do with you."
And flinging out of the office, he slammed the door behind him.
Burroughs was as much hurt as enraged. This was the first serious row
between them since their early school-days. But he was not inclined to
apologize. He felt that he had asked for information in a perfectly
civil way; and though, in his heart, he could not help suspecting that
there was possibly some mistake, the sarcasm of his old friend had
wounded him too bitterly for him to hold out the olive branch.
When he went home to the chummery, the gravity of the quarrel was proved
by the fact that Errington had removed all his personal belongings.
"Where's Mr. Errington?" he asked of Chin Tai, his servant.
"He gone wailo Mass' Leinhadt," said the man, grinning. He was glad to
have seen the back of Lo San, Errington's man.
And next morning, when Lo San brought an envelope containing a
remittance for the entire amount that Errington owed him, Burroughs felt
still more deeply incensed. To repay him with money borrowed from the
German seemed the finishing stroke to their old friendship. In the old
days, a quiet talk would have set matters right instantly; but the
previous coolness between them, due to Errington's gambling, rendered
that course now impossible.
The explanation was exceedingly simple. Errington had received an
inquiry from Feng Wai immediately after he had heard from Burroughs of
the negotiation in progress. He had quoted exactly the same terms, and
the bargain was struck. But the Chinaman found that, the rates having
gone up slightly, he was unable to supply the goods, and went to the
office to ask to be released from his contract. It happened that
Errington was out at the time, but Reinhardt was there. Scenting a
chance of raising a difference between the two friends, Reinhardt agreed
to give the enhanced price, merely altering the figures in the contract
note, taking care to make the new figures as like Errington's as
possible. The Chinese merchant is usually as good as his word; but Feng
Wai had had only a verbal understanding with Burroughs, and thought
himself justified in concluding the transaction at the higher price.
Reinhardt stipulated that the extra price should not be disclosed; but
Burroughs' comprador often got information through private channels, and
it was not long before he was aware of the terms of the bargain.
The appearance of Errington at his bungalow that evening, in a towering
rage, told Reinhardt that his scheme had succeeded, but he was scarcely
prepared for the completeness of the breach between the friends. He owed
Burroughs the grudge which a mean and dishonourable man often owes a
more honourable one for no other reason than that he is more honourable.
He was now anxious that Errington should not discover the change of
price, for he knew that, if he heard of it, he would at once seek to put
himself right with his friend. Errington was too angry at first to give
any explanation of the quarrel; but presently he said--
"What's all this tosh about outbidding Burroughs with Feng Wai? Nothing
in it, is there?"
"Of course not. You initialled ze contract yourself, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Ze invoice will prove it: I show you zat to-morrow when we go to ze
office."
Before night he had made a private arrangement with Feng Wai that the
goods should be invoiced at the original price, and that the difference
should be made up by Reinhardt himself. His intention was to recoup
himself by an adjustment in his private ledger under what an Englishman
would call "squeeze." The invoice, consequently, satisfied Errington
that there was no foundation for Burroughs' suspicion, and he nourished
a deep resentment against his old friend for harbouring it. Reinhardt
was, of course, careful to file the altered contract note among his
private papers: to alter the figures back again could hardly be done so
neatly as to escape the notice of one so keen as Errington.
Thus Errington became an inmate of Reinhardt's house, and the breach
between the two friends widened. In a place where there is only a small
community of white men, a disagreement of this kind is at once set
right, or it becomes far more acute. With Errington, the mere idea that
he could be suspected by his friend of such a trick as he had accused
him of rankled more and more as time went on. He found himself
harbouring bitter thoughts, not only of him, but of Mr. Ting; for in his
perverted state of mind he was ready to listen to Reinhardt's
suggestions that the Chinaman had profited by his father's losses, and
was actually enjoying a wealth which, if right were done, would be his
own.
By and by his bitterness of spirit was if possible aggravated by the
suspicion that Reinhardt cheated at cards. Being more continuously in
the German's company, he noticed little things, slight manifestations of
character, which had before escaped him. He watched his host more and
more carefully, and though he was unable to bring the matter home to
him, he grew at length almost convinced that Reinhardt was a swindler.
This, coming upon the loss of his friend, which in his better moments he
felt deeply, so worked upon him that he found his situation unendurable,
and applied to his firm for a transfer still farther up the river. The
managers at first hesitated, but his threat to resign unless his
application was granted, coupled with reports of his business aptitude
from all with whom he had come in contact, produced the result he
desired. Rather than lose his services, the firm put him in charge of a
small sub-branch at Chia-ling Fu.