OUR BACKS TO THE WALL
Hilmi Bey bowed us out, his smirk more tigerish than ever. It seemed
to us that he had a perfect right to enjoy our departure. We felt
that we had come off distinctly second-best.
"Score for them," remarked Hugh, as we shook the dust of the Rue
Midhat Pasha from our shoes. "We're chivvied, dished."
"They won't do it," I objected. "And if they did, it wouldn't get
them anywhere."
"You're right," assented Hugh. "But there's the delay. This is
expensive, Jack, and we can't hang on forever. If we could wear them
out, why--"
"You are both wrong!" exclaimed Nikka energetically. "You must
remember that you are in Constantinople. Things don't happen here as
they do in Europe."
"Constantinople is in Europe," I objected--and promptly felt like the
fool the remark demonstrated me to be.
Nikka favored me with a withering glance of contempt.
"We are not talking in terms of geography, but of human nature," he
said. "This is the Orient. You ought to realize that, Jack, after
what you have seen with me. And in the Orient, and especially in
Turkey, such a graft deal as Hilyer made with Mahkouf Pasha would not
excite any interest, much less condemnation. It's the regular thing."
"You forget the Allied High Commissioners," interjected King.
"No, I don't. They can go only just so far. Their position is
delicate enough, without imperiling their prestige by interfering in
what would be strictly a question of Turkish internal government.
They'd know that a windfall such as this treasure would be used
simply to further Pan-Islamic intrigue and bolster the coffers of the
Nationalist Government at Angora. But for that very reason they
wouldn't be able to interfere. I tell you, it would be the height of
bad luck for us if the struggle for the treasure took on a political
tinge. It would be fatal. We might as well pack up, and go home."
"Guess you're right," assented Hugh thoughtfully. "It looks as
though we were pocketed.'
"What puzzles me is why they didn't try something like this before,"
continued Nikka. "I fancy they wanted to be very sure of their man
first."
"Surely, they won't have told him!" protested King.
"Who? Mahkouf? Oh, no. They're too wise. No. they've simply
explained to him the general proposition and arranged tentative
terms. They won't trust him any farther than they have to."
"Is it your idea that we've got to accept their offer?" asked Hugh.
"It's my idea that we've got to use our wits, and act quickly," said
Nikka.
"But you can't trust them," I cried. "Hélène as much as told you so.
We'd get the stuff out--"
"If it's there," Hugh reminded me.
"--if it's there, then, and they would think nothing of jumping us,
either by force or by some damned trick."
"They might even stage a fake hold-up on the part of a Government
agency," Nikka added cheerfully.
"In plain language, their proposition is: heads we win tails you
lose," said Hugh.
"Yes, supposing you permit them to take the lead from your hands,"
agreed Nikka. "However, I am reminded of a memorable address I was
once privileged to listen to as a soldier of the Legion. A general
named Foch read us a citation, and then told us how to go on winning
more. 'I have noticed,' he said, 'that it is the soldier who attacks
who wins battles. The initiative is the price of victory. Never
permit your foe to assume the initiative. Attack! Always attack!'"
"True," assented Hugh. "And we've been able to stall their gang so
far by taking the initiative."
"But if we can't?" inquired King. "Optimism is all right, but--"
"Optimism is all we've got," interrupted Nikka. "We have our backs
to the wall. This is the time to fight, if fighting will get us
anywhere."
"If it will!" echoed Hugh.
"That's what we have to decide," said Nikka. "You can't work out a
problem like this in the street."
We walked the remainder of the distance to the hotel at a breakneck
gait. As we entered the lobby one of the clerks came from the office
and accosted Hugh.
"Your messenger would not wait, milord," he said. "Mees King had not
returned. Indeed, she has not yet returned."
"My messenger?" repeated Hugh, with a startled look at us.
"Yes, milord. He said he must see her. When I told heem she had
gone out he left your letter for her, weeth instructions that I
present it so soon as she came in."
Hugh's face creased into grim lines.
"Very well. As long as she has not yet returned, I will take it
back."
The clerk went to the mail-desk, and plucked an envelope from Betty's
letter-box. Hugh thanked him, and turned it over in his hand. It
was addressed in an extraordinarily scrawling hand to "Miss King."
In the lower left-hand corner was written: "By messenger."
"But it looks nothing like your handwriting," exclaimed King. "I am
at a loss to comprehend how persons so adroit as our opponents have
demonstrated themselves to be could hope to secure success by means
of such a shallow trick."
"We'll see," returned Hugh brusquely, slitting the envelope. "I have
a notion this is the other ace Hilyer bragged about."
The envelope held a single sheet of paper. On it was written in the
same scrawling hand:
"_Dear Bet:_
"I've broken my arm, which explains this abominable writing. I never
could do anything with my left hand. Don't worry, I shall be fit in
no time. Can you come with the bearer, or if that is not convenient,
with Watkins, to the house in Sokaki Masyeri? It's important. Can't
write any more.
"HUGH."
"P.S. The others are all right. The bearer can't wait."
"Can you beat that!" I gasped.
"Exceedingly ingenious," murmured King. "Dear me, how fortunate it
was that we returned when we did."
"We mustn't leave anything to chance, though," said Nikka quickly:
"You can't tell what other steps they may have taken to trap her. We
had better go down to the dock at once."
Hugh glanced at the clock.
"Yes, she'd hardly be back yet," he muttered. "One moment. I'll
leave word at the desk that she is not to go out, no matter what
message she may receive, until we return."
He rejoined us at the door, and we all entered a taxi which Nikka had
impounded. Nobody said anything, but while we were jolting into
Galata Hugh produced his automatic, and make sure it contained a full
clip. At the dock there was no sign of the _Curlew_, and the late
afternoon sunlight failed to reveal her stubby little hull amongst
the shipping in the Golden Horn. None of the dock attendants had
seen the launch or anything of Betty or Watkins since we had waved
good-by to them before three o'clock.
We waited a while, thinking they might show up, but after six o'clock
King became nervous and persuaded us to return to the hotel. There,
too, there was no word of them, and we began to worry in earnest.
Dusk was coming on rapidly, and it was not like Betty to protract her
cruise so late, although she was fully capable of navigating after
dark, with the help of Watkins, or, for that matter, without his help.
We taxied to the dock a second time. The _Curlew_ was nowhere to be
seen.
"Perhaps it would be advisable to hire a boat and search for them in
the Marmora," suggested King. "Their engine may have broken down."
"We had better not split our forces," Nikka objected.
"Engine trouble would never bother Betty," Hugh said. "Still, I
don't like it."
"We are probably worrying about nothing," I said. "After all, it was
a blessing in disguise that she stayed out so late. It insured
against her being caught by that note in case we hadn't intercepted
it."
"I'm not interested in 'if,' and 'had,'" snapped Hugh. "I don't like
this delay. Those devils of Toutou's are capable of having an extra
trick in reserve."
"I vote we go back to the hotel," proposed Nikka; "maybe I can pick
up one of my Gypsies. We could start them out on the trail."
Nikka's suggestion did not make anybody any happier. It indicated
that he, like the rest of us, was commencing to take the situation
more seriously than he cared to admit openly. But we climbed into
the smelly taxi for the fourth time, and were jounced up to Pera.
The hotel people regarded us with some amazement when Vernon King
again inquired for his daughter. No, she had not returned. Was
anything wrong?
King hesitated, looked at us. It was hard to know what to say.
Something might be wrong. And yet the chances were that the only
thing wrong was a cranky motor. We didn't want publicity. We
couldn't afford to attract unnecessary attention. Our party was
sufficiently conspicuous, as it was, and was taken for granted and
let alone largely because it included an American millionaire
archæologist and an English milord, both of whom, by all the rules of
the Orient, were naturally assumed to be harmless lunatics.
"No," he answered at length, "I think not. My daughter has a
reliable servant with her. I am simply anxious for her return."
The hotel management were all sympathy. Monsieur need not worry.
Let him dine in comfort. The instant Mademoiselle returned or word
of her arrived he should be apprised. In the meantime, why concern
himself unnecessarily?
"They're right," said Hugh as we grouped in the lobby, canvassing our
next step. "We've had a hard day, and we need food. Let's eat. By
the way, Nikka, did you see your Gypsies?"
"No, and if anything much had gone wrong, I think--at least, there's
a strong probability--they would spot it sooner or later and report
to me."
"Obviously, we have done all we can for the present," said Vernon
King. "Hugh's suggestion is a good one. Perhaps food and a rest
will sharpen our wits."
We went to the Kings' sitting room, where we had breakfasted that
morning, and sat down wearily, discouraged, disheartened, more than a
little dismayed. But as my uncle had said, food and wine and black
coffee brightened our despondency. We were on the point of deciding
that the best policy would be to risk dividing forces, sending Hugh
and Vernon King on a chartered boat to scour near-by waters, while
Nikka and I attempted to investigate Sokaki Masyeri, when Watkins
entered unannounced.
He was very pale. His collar was streaked with blood. There was an
ugly bump on the side of his head. He dragged one foot after the
other.
"Oh, your ludship," he murmured, and dropped into a chair.
At once he strove to regain his feet, but collapsed again.
"I beg pardon, I'm sure, your ludship--no disrespect intended--fair
dead beat I am, sir--my 'ead and all--"
Hugh seized a glass of champagne and carried it to him, holding the
glass to his lips.
"Where is--" Hugh's tongue boggled Betty's name.
"They--they've--took 'er, your ludship," answered Watkins faintly.
"How? Where? Is she alive?"
King sprang from his chair, wringing his hands.
"Oh, my God! She is all I have! What has happened? Where is she?
Please tell me!"
"Wait a minute," said Nikka quietly. "He's all in. Give him food
and some more to drink. That's right, Jack. There's a bottle of
whiskey over there. Pour a stiff dram into a cup of coffee, Hugh."
With stimulants to help him, and a cold cloth on his head, Watkins
regained control of himself.
"It 'appened so quick I don't rightly know 'ow it was," he said. "We
'ad run out beyond the Princes Islands, and I saw there was little
shipping around, your ludship and gentlemen. And then there was a
fishing-boat with power bore down on us. Miss Betty and I, we didn't
think anything about it until 'e was right on us. Even then we
thought they'd only lost control of their rudder like. But when they
bumped us and tumbled aboard I knew they wasn't up to no good, your
ludship.
"Miss Betty reached for 'er gun, and so did I. But somebody grabbed
'er, and somebody else pushed me over, at the same a chap lashed at
me with an iron-weighted club. 'E thought 'e'd knocked my brains
out, and 'e would, too, except I fell so fast on account of bein'
pushed, I was under the level of the rail when the club 'it me and
most of the blow went into the rail. Splintered it, it did, your
ludship. And but for that I wouldn't be 'ere."
"And Miss Betty?" questioned Hugh eagerly.
"I don't know, your ludship. When I saw anything again I was lyin'
on the floor of the cockpit, dusk was coming on and the launch was
drifted far out to sea. They'd stopped the engine. I don't know 'ow
I got back 'ere. My 'ead went round and round. But I thought if I
could get to you, your ludship and gentlemen, maybe we could think of
something else to do. Just give me a chance to lay my 'ands on that
'ere Tootoo! I'll bash 'is 'ead for 'im."
"They did have a spare trick ready," commented Nikka. "Our visit to
Hilmi was part of a plot to get hold of Betty. You see, they would
have caught her, whether she had gone sailing or not."
"You said this afternoon we had our back to the wall," said Hugh.
"You were right. They've licked us. Our only chance is to clean
them up."
The room-telephone rang. King answered it.
"Send him up," he said. And to Nikka: "A Gypsy asking for you."
"That will be Wasso Mikali," cried Nikka. "He must have learned
something. I thought he would. Don't be downhearted, Hugh. This
hand is a long way from being played out. It is as I thought all
along; we have got to meet savagery with savagery. It is a case of
kill or be killed."
"But Betty!" exclaimed Vernon King. "Think of her! What will they--"
"I am thinking of her," retorted Nikka. "If we hope to rescue her we
must strike hard. Give them time, let them strengthen their
position--and she will go to some harem in Anatolia or to a procurer
in Salonika. I tell you, I know. We are dealing with men and women
who have no mercy, who fight like animals, who are animals. Well,
from now on, Nikka Zaranko will meet them on their own ground."
There was a knock on the door. Wasso Mikali entered, his garish
Gypsy dress in striking contrast to the Western furnishings and our
own conventional garments.
"I greet you, son of my sister," he said calmly. "My young men,
watching in Sokaki Masyeri this evening, beheld Tokalji's party carry
in a bundle in a sack, which was a body. I have hastened that you
should know it."
Nikka clasped his hand.
"It is well, my uncle. I thank you for the news. This is the night
of blood of which I have spoken. We shall all dip our blades before
the sun rises to-morrow."
"My heart is glad," replied Wasso Mikali, with flashing eyes. "My
young men's knives are eager. Their hands are ready. What is the
plan?"
Nikka turned to us.
"I must go with my people," he said. "Hugh, do you and Jack think
you could keep the gang in play by a surprise attack through the
drain? That would give us a chance to force the street-entrance, and
we should have them between two fires."
"And where am I going to be?" demanded Vernon King indignantly.
"This will be a nasty affair, Professor," returned Nikka. "You ought
to stay out. We are younger men, and we are used to this kind of
thing."
"Betty is my daughter, and I am as able to fight for her as any of
you," answered King. "I know how to handle a pistol."
"We ought not to refuse you, you know," said Hugh. "Every man is
going to count."
"I certainly expect to be counted," replied King.
"Me, too, your ludship and Mister Nikka, sir," spoke up Watty,
lunging to his feet. "Yes, I will, gentlemen. You give me another
glass of that 'ere whiskey or arak or whatever you call it, and I'll
fight 'em all by myself. Yes, I will. And I guess I can swing a
crowbar, if I 'ave got a bump on my 'ead. Let me at 'em, gentlemen,
only let me. That's all I ask."