THE AMERICAN BAR
"You're wanted at the 'phone, Mr. Britt," said Miss Pelham. It was late
in the evening a day or two afterward. Britt went into the booth. He was
not in there long, but when he came out he found that Miss Pelham had
disappeared. The coincidence was significant; Mr. Saunders was also
missing from his seat on the window-sill at the far end of the long
corridor. Britt looked his disgust, and muttered something
characteristic. Having no one near with whom he could communicate, he
boldly set off for the hanging garden, where Deppingham had installed
the long-idle roulette paraphernalia. The quartette were placing
prospective rubies and sapphires on the board, using gun-wads in lieu of
the real article.
Britt's stocky figure came down through the maze of halls, across the
vine-covered bridge and into the midst of a transaction which involved
perhaps a hundred thousand pounds in rubies.
"Say," he said, without ceremony, "the Enemy's in trouble. Bowles just
telephoned. There's a lot of excitement in the town. I don't know what
to make of it."
"Then why the devil are you breaking in here with it?" growled
Deppingham, who was growing to hate Britt with an ardour that was
unmanageable.
"This'll interest you, never fear. There's been a row between Von Blitz
and the lawyer, and the lawyer has unmercifully threshed Von Blitz. Good
Lord, I'd like to have seen it, wouldn't you, Browne? Say, he's all
right, isn't he?"
"What was it all about?" demanded Browne. They, were now listening, all
attention.
"It seems that Von Blitz is in the habit of licking his wives," said
Britt. "Bowles was so excited he could hardly talk. It must have been
awful if it could get Bowles really awake."
"Miraculous!" said Deppingham conclusively.
"Well, as I get it, the lawyer has concluded to advance the American
idiosyncrasy known as reform. It's a habit with us, my lady. We'll try
to reform heaven if enough of us get there to form a club. Von Blitz
beats his Persian wives instead of his Persian rugs, therefore he needed
reforming. Our friend, the Enemy, met him this evening, and told him
that no white man could beat his wife, singular or plural, while he was
around. Von Blitz is a big, ugly chap, and he naturally resented the
interference with his divine might. He told the lawyer to go hang or
something equivalent. The lawyer knocked him down. By George, I'd like
to have seen it! From the way Bowles tells it, he must have knocked him
down so incessantly in the next five minutes that Von Blitz's attempts
to stand up were nothing short of a stutter. Moreover, he wouldn't let
Von Blitz stab him worth a cent. Bowles says he's got Von Blitz cowed,
and the whole town is walking in circles, it's so dizzy. Von Blitz's
wives threaten to kill the lawyer, but I guess they won't. Bowles says
that all the Persian and Turkish women on the island are crazy about the
fellow."
"Mr. Britt!" protested Mrs. Browne.
"Beg pardon. Perhaps Bowles is wrong. Well, to make it short, the lawyer
has got Von Blitz to hating him secretly, and the German has a lot of
influence over the people. It may be uncomfortable for our good-looking
friend. If he didn't seem so well able to look out for himself, I'd feel
mighty uneasy about him. After all, he's a white man and a good fellow,
I imagine."
"If he should be in great danger down there," said her ladyship
firmly--perhaps consciously--"we must offer him a safe retreat in the
château." The others looked at her in surprise. "We can't stand off and
see him murdered, you know," she qualified hastily.
The next morning a messenger came up from the town with a letter
directed to Messrs. Britt and Saunders. It was from the Enemy, and
requested them to meet him in private conference at four that afternoon.
"I think it will be for the benefit of all concerned if we can get
together," wrote the Enemy in conclusion.
"He's weakening," mused Britt, experiencing a sense of disappointment
over his countryman's fallibility. "My word for it, Saunders, he's going
to propose an armistice of some sort. He can't keep up the bluff."
"Shocking bad form, writing to us like this," said Saunders
reflectively. "As if we'd go into any agreement with the fellow. I'm
sure Lady Deppingham wouldn't consider it for a moment."
The messenger carried back with him a dignified response in which the
counsellors for Mr. Browne and Lady Deppingham respectfully declined to
engage in any conference at this time.
At two o'clock that afternoon the entire force of native servants picked
up their belongings, and marched out of the château. Britt stormed and
threatened, but the inscrutable Mohammedans shook their heads and
hastened toward the gates. Despair reigned in the château; tears and
lamentations were no more effective than blasphemy. The major-domo,
suave and deferential, gravely informed Mr. Britt that they were leaving
at the instigation of their legal adviser, who had but that hour issued
his instructions.
"I hope you are not forgetting what I said about the American gunboats,"
said Britt ponderously.
"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 passed 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 damned
fools enough to say that it was all poppy-cock 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 cocktail, 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 château. 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'
Association of Japat."
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' Association, gentlemen, comprises the entire
population of Japat. 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 glasses
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 passed 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 snatched 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 Japat 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 Japat 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."
"I shall, confound him," exploded Saunders, smiting the table mightily.
"He's too damned uppish anyhow. He needs taking down--"
"Ah, Selim," interrupted the Enemy, as the native boy entered, "no mail,
eh?"
"No, excellency, the ship is not due to arrive for two weeks."
"Ah, but, Selim, you forget that I am expecting a letter from Von
Blitz's wives. They promised to let me know how soon he is able to
resume work at the mines."
"I hear you polished him off neatly," said Britt, with a grin.
"Just the rough edges, Mr. Britt. He is now a gem of purest ray serene.
By the way, I hope you'll not take my mild suggestions amiss."
"There's nothing I object to except your power to call strikes among our
servants. That seems to me to be rather high-handed," said Britt
good-naturedly.
"No doubt you're right," agreed the other, "but you must remember that I
needed the cigarettes."
"My word!" muttered Saunders admiringly.
"Look here, old man," said Britt, his cheeks glowing, "it's mighty good
of you to take this trouble for----"
"Don't mention it. I'd only ask in return that we three be a little more
sociable hereafter. We're not here to cut each other's throats, you
know, and we've got a deadly half year ahead of us. What say?"
For answer the two lawyers arose and shook hands with the excellent
Enemy. When they started for the château at seven o'clock, each with six
mint juleps about his person, they were too mellow for analysis. The
Enemy, who had drunk but little, took an arm of each and piloted them
sturdily through the town.
"I'd walk up to the château if I were you," he said, when they clamoured
for a jinriksha apiece. "It will help pass away the time."
"By Jove," said Saunders, hunting for the Enemy's hand. "I'm going to
'nform L-Lord Deppingham that he's 'nsufferable ass an'--an' I don't
care who knows it."
"Saunders," said Britt, with rare dignity, "take your hand out of my
pocket."