I was given no leisure for wondering how Cynthia's mother came to
be in the grounds of Sanstead House, for her companion, almost
before the car had stopped, jumped out and clutched me by the arm,
at the same time uttering this cryptic speech: 'Whatever he offers
I'll double!'
She fixed me, as she spoke, with a commanding eye. She was a woman,
I gathered in that instant, born to command. There seemed, at any
rate, no doubt in her mind that she could command me. If I had
been a black beetle she could not have looked at me with a more
scornful superiority. Her eyes were very large and of a rich, fiery
brown colour, and it was these that gave me my first suspicion of
her identity. As to the meaning of her words, however, I had no clue.
'Bear that in mind,' she went on. 'I'll double it if it's a
million dollars.'
'I'm afraid I don't understand,' I said, finding speech.
She clicked her tongue impatiently.
'There's no need to be so cautious and mysterious. This lady is a
friend of mine. She knows all about it. I asked her to come. I'm
Mrs Elmer Ford. I came here directly I got your letter. I think
you're the lowest sort of scoundrel that ever managed to keep out
of gaol, but that needn't make any difference just now. We're here
to talk business, Mr Fisher, so we may as well begin.'
I was getting tired of being taken for Smooth Sam.
'I am not Smooth Sam Fisher.'
I turned to the automobile. 'Will you identify me, Mrs Drassilis?'
She was regarding me with wide-open eyes.
'What on earth are you doing down here? I have been trying
everywhere to find you, but nobody--'
Mrs Ford interrupted her. She gave me the impression of being a
woman who wanted a good deal of the conversation, and who did not
care how she got it. In a conversational sense she thugged Mrs
Drassilis at this point, or rather she swept over her like some
tidal wave, blotting her out.
'Oh,' she said fixing her brown eyes, less scornful now but still
imperious, on mine. 'I must apologize. I have made a mistake. I
took you for a low villain of the name of Sam Fisher. I hope you
will forgive me. I was to have met him at this exact spot just
about this time, by appointment, so, seeing you here, I mistook
you for him.'
'If I might have a word with you alone?' I said.
Mrs Ford had a short way with people. In matters concerning her
own wishes, she took their acquiescence for granted.
'Drive on up to the house, Jarvis,' she said, and Mrs Drassilis
was whirled away round the curve of the drive before she knew what
had happened to her.
'Well?'
'My name is Burns,' I said.
'Now I understand,' she said. 'I know who you are now.' She
paused, and I was expecting her to fawn upon me for my gallant
service in her cause, when she resumed in quite a different
strain.
'I can't think what you can have been about, Mr Burns, not to have
been able to do what Cynthia asked you. Surely in all these weeks
and months.... And then, after all, to have let this Fisher
scoundrel steal him away from under your nose...!'
She gave me a fleeting glance of unfathomable scorn. And when I
thought of all the sufferings I had gone through that term owing
to her repulsive son and, indirectly, for her sake, I felt that
the time had come to speak out.
'May I describe the way in which I allowed your son to be stolen
away from under my nose?' I said. And in well-chosen words, I
sketched the outline of what had happened. I did not omit to lay
stress on the fact that the Nugget's departure with the enemy was
entirely voluntary.
She heard me out in silence.
'That was too bad of Oggie,' she said tolerantly, when I had
ceased dramatically on the climax of my tale.
As a comment it seemed to me inadequate.
'Oggie was always high-spirited,' she went on. 'No doubt you have
noticed that?'
'A little.'
'He could be led, but never driven. With the best intentions, no
doubt, you refused to allow him to leave the stables that night
and return to the house, and he resented the check and took the
matter into his own hands.' She broke off and looked at her watch.
'Have you a watch? What time is it? Only that? I thought it must
be later. I arrived too soon. I got a letter from this man Fisher,
naming this spot and this hour for a meeting, when we could
discuss terms. He said that he had written to Mr Ford, appointing
the same time.' She frowned. 'I have no doubt he will come,' she
said coldly.
'Perhaps this is his car,' I said.
A second automobile was whirring up the drive. There was a shout
as it came within sight of us, and the chauffeur put on the brake.
A man sprang from the tonneau. He jerked a word to the chauffeur,
and the car went on up the drive.
He was a massively built man of middle age, with powerful shoulders,
and a face--when he had removed his motor-goggles very like any one
of half a dozen of those Roman emperors whose features have come
down to us on coins and statues, square-jawed, clean-shaven, and
aggressive. Like his late wife (who was now standing, drawn up to
her full height, staring haughtily at him) he had the air of one
born to command. I should imagine that the married life of these
two must have been something more of a battle even than most married
lives. The clashing of those wills must have smacked of a collision
between the immovable mass and the irresistible force.
He met Mrs Ford's stare with one equally militant, then turned to
me.
'I'll give you double what she has offered you,' he said. He
paused, and eyed me with loathing. 'You damned scoundrel,' he
added.
Custom ought to have rendered me immune to irritation, but it had
not. I spoke my mind.
'One of these days, Mr Ford,' I said, 'I am going to publish a
directory of the names and addresses of the people who have
mistaken me for Smooth Sam Fisher. I am not Sam Fisher. Can you
grasp that? My name is Peter Burns, and for the past term I have
been a master at this school. And I may say that, judging from
what I know of the little brute, any one who kidnapped your son as
long as two days ago will be so anxious by now to get rid of him
that he will probably want to pay you for taking him back.'
My words almost had the effect of bringing this divorced couple
together again. They made common cause against me. It was probably
the first time in years that they had formed even a temporary
alliance.
'How dare you talk like that!' said Mrs Ford. 'Oggie is a sweet
boy in every respect.'
'You're perfectly right, Nesta,' said Mr Ford. 'He may want
intelligent handling, but he's a mighty fine boy. I shall make
inquiries, and if this man has been ill-treating Ogden, I shall
complain to Mr Abney. Where the devil is this man Fisher?' he
broke off abruptly.
'On the spot,' said an affable voice. The bushes behind me parted,
and Smooth Sam stepped out on to the gravel.
I had recognized him by his voice. I certainly should not have
done so by his appearance. He had taken the precaution of 'making
up' for this important meeting. A white wig of indescribable
respectability peeped out beneath his black hat. His eyes twinkled
from under two penthouses of white eyebrows. A white moustache
covered his mouth. He was venerable to a degree.
He nodded to me, and bared his white head gallantly to Mrs Ford.
'No worse for our little outing, Mr Burns, I am glad to see. Mrs
Ford, I must apologize for my apparent unpunctuality, but I was
not really behind time. I have been waiting in the bushes. I
thought it just possible that you might have brought unwelcome
members of the police force with you, and I have been scouting, as
it were, before making my advance. I see, however, that all is
well, and we can come at once to business. May I say, before we
begin, that I overheard your recent conversation, and that I
entirely disagree with Mr Burns. Master Ford is a charming boy.
Already I feel like an elder brother to him. I am loath to part
with him.'
'How much?' snapped Mr Ford. 'You've got me. How much do you
want?'
'I'll give you double what he offers,' cried Mrs Ford.
Sam held up his hand, his old pontifical manner intensified by the
white wig.
'May I speak? Thank you. This is a little embarrassing. When I
asked you both to meet me here, it was not for the purpose of
holding an auction. I had a straight-forward business proposition
to make to you. It will necessitate a certain amount of plain and
somewhat personal speaking. May I proceed? Thank you. I will be as
brief as possible.'
His eloquence appeared to have had a soothing effect on the two
Fords. They remained silent.
'You must understand,' said Sam, 'that I am speaking as an expert.
I have been in the kidnapping business many years, and I know what
I am talking about. And I tell you that the moment you two got
your divorce, you said good-bye to all peace and quiet. Bless
you'--Sam's manner became fatherly--'I've seen it a hundred
times. Couple get divorced, and, if there's a child, what happens?
They start in playing battledore-and-shuttlecock with him. Wife
sneaks him from husband. Husband sneaks him back from wife. After
a while along comes a gentleman in my line of business, a
professional at the game, and he puts one across on both the
amateurs. He takes advantage of the confusion, slips in, and gets
away with the kid. That's what has happened here, and I'm going to
show you the way to stop it another time. Now I'll make you a
proposition. What you want to do'--I have never heard anything so
soothing, so suggestive of the old family friend healing an
unfortunate breach, as Sam's voice at this juncture--'what you
want to do is to get together again right quick. Never mind the
past. Let bygones be bygones. Kiss and be friends.'
A snort from Mr Ford checked him for a moment, but he resumed.
'I guess there were faults on both sides. Get together and talk it
over. And when you've agreed to call the fight off and start fair
again, that's where I come in. Mr Burns here will tell you, if you
ask him, that I'm anxious to quit this business and marry and
settle down. Well, see here. What you want to do is to give me a
salary--we can talk figures later on--to stay by you and watch
over the kid. Don't snort--I'm talking plain sense. You'd a sight
better have me with you than against you. Set a thief to catch a
thief. What I don't know about the fine points of the game isn't
worth knowing. I'll guarantee, if you put me in charge, to see
that nobody comes within a hundred miles of the kid unless he has
an order-to-view. You'll find I earn every penny of that salary ...
Mr Burns and I will now take a turn up the drive while you think
it over.'
He linked his arm in mine and drew me away. As we turned the
corner of the drive I caught a glimpse over my shoulder of the
Little Nugget's parents. They were standing where we had left
them, as if Sam's eloquence had rooted them to the spot.
'Well, well, well, young man,' said Sam, eyeing me affectionately,
'it's pleasant to meet you again, under happier conditions than
last time. You certainly have all the luck, sonny, or you would
have been badly hurt that night. I was getting scared how the
thing would end. Buck's a plain roughneck, and his gang are as bad
as he is, and they had got mighty sore at you, mighty sore. If
they had grabbed you, there's no knowing what might not have
happened. However, all's well that ends well, and this little game
has surely had the happy ending. I shall get that job, sonny. Old
man Ford isn't a fool, and it won't take him long, when he gets to
thinking it over, to see that I'm right. He'll hire me.'
'Aren't you rather reckoning without your partner?' I said. 'Where
does Buck MacGinnis come in on the deal?'
Sam patted my shoulder paternally.
'He doesn't, sonny, he doesn't. It was a shame to do it--it was
like taking candy from a kid--but business is business, and I was
reluctantly compelled to double-cross poor old Buck. I sneaked the
Nugget away from him next day. It's not worth talking about; it
was too easy. Buck's all right in a rough-and-tumble, but when it
comes to brains he gets left, and so he'll go on through life,
poor fellow. I hate to think of it.'
He sighed. Buck's misfortunes seemed to move him deeply.
'I shouldn't be surprised if he gave up the profession after this.
He has had enough to discourage him. I told you about what
happened to him that night, didn't I? No? I thought I did. Why,
Buck was the guy who did the Steve Brodie through the roof; and,
when we picked him up, we found he'd broken his leg again! Isn't
that enough to jar a man? I guess he'll retire from the business
after that. He isn't intended for it.'
We were approaching the two automobiles now, and, looking back, I
saw Mr and Mrs Ford walking up the drive. Sam followed my gaze,
and I heard him chuckle.
'It's all right,' he said. 'They've fixed it up. Something in the
way they're walking tells me they've fixed it up.'
Mrs Drassilis was still sitting in the red automobile, looking
piqued but resigned. Mrs Ford addressed her.
'I shall have to leave you, Mrs Drassilis,' she said. 'Tell Jarvis
to drive you wherever you want to go. I am going with my husband
to see my boy Oggie.'
She stretched out a hand towards the millionaire. He caught it in
his, and they stood there, smiling foolishly at each other, while
Sam, almost purring, brooded over them like a stout fairy queen.
The two chauffeurs looked on woodenly.
Mr Ford released his wife's hand and turned to Sam.
'Fisher.'
'Sir?'
'I've been considering your proposition. There's a string tied to
it.'
'Oh no, sir, I assure you!'
'There is. What guarantee have I that you won't double-cross me?'
Sam smiled, relieved.
'You forget that I told you I was about to be married, sir. My
wife won't let me!'
Mr Ford waved his hand towards the automobile.
'Jump in,' he said briefly, 'and tell him where to drive to.
You're engaged!'