THE GOOD FRAU
After a thorough wash, the two compatriots felt very much refreshed, and
looked less like street urchins or sea urchins, and more like
themselves. Only one thing troubled the chief engineer, as he rubbed his
hand reflectively over his chin and face.
"I would feel quite respectable now if I only had a clean shave. You
know for a fact, Jim, that I can think much more clearly when my face is
smooth. But that is something which you don't have to bother about, Jim,
no reflection on your years, my lad," he concluded, with a smile.
"Better not be," replied Jim gruffly, coloring up, for be it known that
James was sensitive on the point of being young. Funny thing, boy
nature, anyway. John Berwick opened his eyes at Jim's tone, and then a
quizzical look came into his face. There was no denying that Berwick had
at times a vicious temper, but he was always good-natured where Jim was
concerned, and never resented the latter's occasional flare of temper,
which was greatly to his credit.
"You'll feel all right, Captain," he said gravely, "when you get your
emptiness lined with beefsteak."
"I'm a chump to flare up for nothing, Chief," deplored Jim; "next time I
do it give me a swift push into the alley." The engineer only shook his
head good-humoredly, while he was giving his brown mustache a final
twist before the glass; Jim was looking with interest at a photograph of
a lad upon the wall. A well set up boy, with a grave, straightforward
look.
"That is my Fritz," said a voice behind him. It was Frau Scheff. "He
has been away from home now two years. His father was very strict with
him and he love the sea, so he go away from home in some ship. He would
be about your age, my lad, but not so tall. Perhaps some time you see
him, and tell him, please, his mother break her heart to see him." Her
voice trembled, and for a moment she pressed her hands against her eyes.
Jim had a deep-seated aversion to any show of emotion, but this simple
yearning in a mother's voice affected him deeply. His eyes filled with
moisture for a moment.
"I promise you to keep your son in mind, Frau Scheff," he said in a
quiet voice, "and it may not be at all impossible that I should some
day meet him. Was there any certain mark by which I might recognize
him?"
"Fritz had a scar about an inch long over his left eye, which he got
when he was a little fellow," said the mother, "but ach! why do I make
you to feel sorry with my troubles. Come! by this time my husband has
your supper done." She regarded Jim with a benevolent smile and led the
way through the narrow passage into the little restaurant. The savory
smell of cooking greeted the hungry outcasts as they entered the car
restaurant.
"Shentlemans, your repast is served." He waved his hand towards one of
the little tables, which had on it a spotless white tablecloth, and the
necessary implements for attacking the grub.
"Ah! it looks very good, Herr Scheff," said John Berwick, who could be
very gracious when he wished. "Your name should be chef; you deserve it,
my friend."
The German made a short bow and his round face crinkled into a smile.
"It is enough that you are pleased, honorable sir," he said.
"Ach, Fritz!" exclaimed his wife, "why do you give these friends of
ourselves such knives and forks? I will get some of our own."
"Now don't you bother, Mrs. Scheff," said Jim; "these will do all right
for us."
"Ach! no! no!" she exclaimed, shaking her head; "they will not do. The
sailors bite the forks as though they eat them. I go get our own."
And she did. They were of heavy silver, with a quaint monogram on the
handles of the forks. No doubt heirlooms of several generations back.
Without more ado the two friends began with hearty appetites on the two
portions of steaks, the delicately browned potatoes, and the eggs.
Everything had a delicious taste, for, aside from their hunger, the meal
was excellently cooked.
"I will make the coffee, Fritz," said his wife, "and how would you like
some German pancake?"
"We would like nothing better," agreed the engineer.
"I'm good for any kind of a pancake," said Jim heartily, and he was not
exaggerating, either.
How good that coffee did smell, and it tasted equal to its aroma. As for
the big, flat, German pancakes, with their coating of powdered sugar and
side dishes of apple sauce, pleasantly tart with sliced lemon,--well,
Jim always had the tantalizing memory of them when in other days he was
furiously hungry, which latter he was destined to be on more than one
occasion. Jim, nevertheless, had not forgotten the business in hand,
even while eating.
"Herr Scheff, could you tell me about the people who live in the castle
upon the bluff above you?" he questioned.
A cold shadow came over the German's round face. It was evident that at
heart he was anything but a genial man given to much talk.
"I do not make my head ache about what I don't know," he replied; "my
business is to cook for whoever pays me. That's all I say."
"Oh! I see!" exclaimed Jim, somewhat taken aback. He noticed that Frau
Scheff seemed somewhat uneasy, but nevertheless she made no effort to
speak.
"Herr Scheff, how about that man with the gray suit, for whom you got a
lunch to-day, shortly after noon?" asked John Berwick.
For a moment the German's face took on a decided pallor, and then his
expression took on a blank, noncommittal look. There was no getting
behind that stolid wall. He shook his head heavily.
"I know nothing about that; maype you are a reporter, eh?"
John Berwick laughed heartily.
"You do me too much honor, Herr Scheff," he said; "I have not the gifts
of imagination or the requisite nerve for such a profession."
"Ach! but Fritz--" his wife began, but she stopped with a sigh at the
malevolent look her husband shot at her.
Not willing to make trouble for the kind-hearted German woman, Jim and
his friend refrained from making any further inquiries. In the course of
time they finished their meal, and prepared to leave, feeling like new
men and fully ready physically for anything that might be in store for
them. The proprietor had regained his surface good humor, and seemed
anxious to make the two strangers forget his abruptness.
As for his wife, she was her usual warm-hearted self, and there were
tears in her eyes when she said good-by to Jim. "Don't forget my little
Fritz," she urged, and Jim promised, and this seemed to give her much
comfort.
The two comrades then left the warm shelter of the curious little
restaurant. Outside it was misting heavily, but little did they mind it,
as they were warm and dry and well-fed. Indeed, they were now doubly
anxious to make an end of their strange adventure.
"Herr Scheff was a very uncommunicative old bird," remarked Jim, dryly,
as they trudged over the wet, heavy sand towards the cliffs.
"Just what was to be expected," replied John Berwick; "you might just as
well try to get water out of the Sahara as information out of Herr
Fritz. He would give the devil a meal as quick as he would a parson and
ask no questions for conscience' sake. You would never find out that he
had ever entertained either. That's business with that class, you know."
"Business be hanged, then!" exclaimed Jim hotly. "I bet anything that
the poor man we found murdered in the gulch up here did get a meal from
him."
"Certainly," replied the engineer coolly; "and what's more, he knows a
whole lot about the gang that infests that castle on the cliff."
"Well, the old clam can keep his information," remarked Jim. "I propose
to find out for myself what these rascals are up to. That's the only
way."
"You are right there, Jim," replied Berwick.
"We want to go a little careful now," remarked Jim, as they came to the
mouth of Dead Man's Gulch.
Noiselessly the two comrades climbed up the dark cleft, over the
slippery rocks, until Jim came to a halt.
"That man isn't here now, John," he said in a low voice.
"They've sneaked him off while we were below," remarked the engineer.
"It behooves us to be on the lookout."
Somehow, the disappearance of the body of the dead man seemed to give a
sense of danger that was everywhere present in the darkness, as if their
enemies, though elusive, were near at hand.
"Well, here we are," exclaimed Jim, with a breath of satisfaction, as
they reached the tall fence surrounding the castle on the bluff.