A MEETING OF MYSTERY
A RATHER attractive-looking, though overdressed, young woman was dining
in a second-rate chop-house in London. She was noticeable, not so much
for her fine figure and coarsely beautiful face as for the size and
appearance of her companion, a large, well-proportioned man in the
mid-twenties, with such a tremendous beard that it gave him the
appearance of hiding in ambush. He stood fully three inches over six
feet. His shoulders were broad, his chest deep, and his hips narrow. His
physique, his carriage, everything about him, suggested indubitably the
trained athlete.
The two were in close conversation, a conversation that occasionally
gave every evidence of bordering upon heated argument.
“I tell you,” said the man, “that I do not see what we need of the
others. Why should they share with us—why divide into six portions that
which you and I might have alone?”
“It takes money to carry the plan through,” she replied, “and neither
you nor I have any money. _They_ have it and they will back us with
it—me for my knowledge and you for your appearance and your strength.
They searched for you, Esteban, for two years, and, now that they have
found you, I should not care to be in your shoes if you betrayed them.
They would just as soon slit your throat as not, Esteban, if they no
more than thought they couldn’t use you, now that you have all the
details of their plan. But if you should try to take all the profit from
them—” She paused, shrugging her shoulders. “No, my dear, I love life
too well to join you in any such conspiracy as that.”
“But I tell you, Flora, we ought to get more out of it than they want to
give. You furnish all the knowledge and I take all the risk—why
shouldn’t we have more than a sixth apiece?”
“Talk to them yourself, then, Esteban,” said the girl, with a shrug,
“but if you will take my advice you will be satisfied with what you are
offered. Not only have I the information, without which they can do
nothing, but I found you into the bargain, yet I do not ask it all—I
shall be perfectly satisfied with one-sixth, and I can assure you that
if you do not muddle the thing, one-sixth of what you bring out will be
enough for any one of us for the rest of his natural life.”
The man did not seem convinced, and the young woman had a feeling that
he would bear watching. Really, she knew very little about him, and had
seen him in person only a few times since her first discovery of him
some two months before, upon the screen of a London cinema house in a
spectacular feature in which he had played the rôle of a Roman soldier
of the Pretorian Guard.
Here his heroic size and perfect physique had alone entitled him to
consideration, for his part was a minor one, and doubtless of all the
thousands who saw him upon the silver sheet Flora Hawkes was the only
one who took more than a passing interest in him, and her interest was
aroused, not by his histrionic ability, but rather because for some two
years she and her confederates had been searching for such a type as
Esteban Miranda so admirably represented. To find him in the flesh bade
fair to prove difficult of accomplishment, but after a month of
seemingly fruitless searching she finally discovered him among a score
of extra men at the studio of one of London’s lesser producing
companies. She needed no other credentials than her good looks to form
his acquaintance, and while that was ripening into intimacy she made no
mention to him of the real purpose of her association with him.
That he was a Spaniard and apparently of good family was evident to her,
and that he was unscrupulous was to be guessed by the celerity with
which he agreed to take part in the shady transaction that had been
conceived in the mind of Flora Hawkes, and the details of which had been
perfected by her and her four confederates. So, therefore, knowing that
he was unscrupulous, she was aware that every precaution must be taken
to prevent him taking advantage of the knowledge of their plan that he
must one day have in detail, the key to which she, up to the present
moment, had kept entirely to herself, not even confiding it to any one
of her four other confederates.
They sat for a moment in silence, toying with the empty glasses from
which they had been drinking. Presently she looked up to find his gaze
fixed upon her and an expression in his eyes that even a less
sophisticated woman than Flora Hawkes might readily have interpreted.
“You can make me do anything you want, Flora,” he said, “for when I am
with you I forget the gold, and think only of that other reward which
you continually deny me, but which one day I shall win.”
“Love and business do not mix well,” replied the girl. “Wait until you
have succeeded in this work, Esteban, and then we may talk of love.”
“You do not love me,” he whispered, hoarsely. “I know—I have seen—that
each of the others loves you. That is why I could hate them. And if I
thought that you loved one of them, I could cut his heart out. Sometimes
I have thought that you did—first one of them and then another. You are
too familiar with them, Flora. I have seen John Peebles squeeze your
hand when he thought no one was looking, and when you dance with Dick
Throck he holds you too close and you dance cheek to cheek. I tell you I
do not like it, Flora, and one of these days I shall forget all about
the gold and think only of you, and then something will happen and there
will not be so many to divide the ingots that I shall bring back from
Africa. And Bluber and Kraski are almost as bad; perhaps Kraski is the
worst of all, for he is a good-looking devil and I do not like the way
in which you cast sheep’s eyes at him.”
The fire of growing anger was leaping to the girl’s eyes. With an angry
gesture she silenced him.
“What business is it of yours, _Señor_ Miranda, who I choose for my
friends, or how I treat them or how they treat me? I will have you
understand that I have known these men for years, while I have known you
for but a few weeks, and if any has a right to dictate my behavior,
which, thank God, none has, it would be one of them rather than you.”
His eyes blazed angrily.
“It is as I thought!” he cried. “You love one of them.” He half rose
from the table and leaned across it toward her, menacingly. “Just let me
find out which one it is and I will cut him into pieces!”
He ran his fingers through his long, black hair until it stood up on end
like the mane of an angry lion. His eyes were blazing with a light that
sent a chill of dread through the girl’s heart. He appeared a man
temporarily bereft of reason—if he were not a maniac he most certainly
looked one, and the girl was afraid and realized that she must placate
him.
“Come, come, Esteban,” she whispered softly, “there is no need for
working yourself into a towering rage over nothing. I have not said that
I loved one of these, nor have I said that I do not love you, but I am
not used to being wooed in such fashion. Perhaps your Spanish
_señoritas_ like it, but I am an English girl and if you love me treat
me as an English lover would treat me.”
“You have not said that you loved one of these others—no, but on the
other hand you have not said that you do not love one of them—tell me,
Flora, which one of them is it that you love?”
His eyes were still blazing, and his great frame trembling with
suppressed passion.
“I do not love any of them, Esteban,” she replied, “nor, as yet, do I
love you. But I could, Esteban, that much I will tell you. I could love
you, Esteban, as I could never love another, but I shall not permit
myself to do so until after you have returned and we are free to live
where and how we like. Then, maybe—but, even so, I do not promise.”
“You had better promise,” he said, sullenly, though evidently somewhat
mollified. “You had better promise, Flora, for I care nothing for the
gold if I may not have you also.”
“Hush,” she cautioned, “here they come now, and it is about time; they
are fully a half-hour late.”
The man turned his eyes in the direction of her gaze, and the two sat
watching the approach of four men who had just entered the chop-house.
Two of them were evidently Englishmen—big, meaty fellows of the middle
class, who looked what they really were, former pugilists; the third,
Adolph Bluber, was a short, fat German, with a round, red face and a
bull neck; the other, the youngest of the four, was by far the best
looking. His smooth face, clear complexion, and large dark eyes might of
themselves have proven sufficient grounds for Miranda’s jealousy, but
supplementing these were a mop of wavy, brown hair, the figure of a
Greek god and the grace of a Russian dancer, which, in truth, was what
Carl Kraski was when he chose to be other than a rogue.
The girl greeted the four pleasantly, while the Spaniard vouchsafed them
but a single, surly nod, as they found chairs and seated themselves at
the table.
“Hale!” cried Peebles, pounding the table to attract the attention of a
waiter, “let us ’ave hale.”
The suggestion met with unanimous approval, and as they waited for their
drink they spoke casually of unimportant things; the heat, the
circumstance that had delayed them, the trivial occurrences since they
had last met; throughout which Esteban sat in sullen silence, but after
the waiter had returned and they drank to Flora, with which ceremony it
had long been their custom to signalize each gathering, they got down to
business.
“Now,” cried Peebles, pounding the table with his meaty fist, “’ere we
are, and that’s that! We ’ave everything, Flora—the plans, the money,
_Señor_ Miranda—and are jolly well ready, old dear, for your part of
it.”
“How much money have you?” asked Flora. “It is going to take a lot of
money, and there is no use starting unless you have plenty to carry on
with.”
Peebles turned to Bluber. “There,” he said, pointing a pudgy finger at
him, “is the bloomin’ treasurer. ’E can tell you ’ow much we ’ave, the
fat rascal of a Dutchman.”
Bluber smiled an oily smile and rubbed his fat palms together. “Vell,”
he said, “how much you t’ink, Miss Flora, ve should have?”
“Not less than two thousand pounds to be on the safe side,” she replied
quickly.
“_Oi! Oi!_” exclaimed Bluber. “But dot is a lot of money—two t’ousand
pounds. _Oi! Oi!_”
The girl made a gesture of disgust. “I told you in the first place that
I wouldn’t have anything to do with a bunch of cheap screws, and that
until you had enough money to carry the thing out properly I would not
give you the maps and directions, without which you cannot hope to reach
the vaults, where there is stored enough gold to buy this whole, tight,
little island if half that what I have heard them say about it is true.
You can go along and spend your own money, but you’ve got to show me
that you have at least two thousand pounds to spend before I give up the
information that will make you the richest men in the world.”
“The blighter’s got the money,” growled Throck. “Blime if I know what
he’s beefin’ about.”
“He can’t help it,” growled the Russian, “it’s a racial characteristic;
Bluber would try to jew down the marriage license clerk if he were going
to get married.”
“Oh, vell,” sighed Bluber, “for vy should we spend more money than is
necessary? If ve can do it for vone t’ousand pounds so much the better.”
“Certainly,” snapped the girl, “and if it don’t take but one thousand,
that is all that you will have to spend, but you’ve got to have the two
thousand in case of emergencies, and from what I have seen of that
country you are likely to run up against more emergencies than anything
else.
“_Oi! Oi!_” cried Bluber.
“’E’s got the money all right,” said Peebles, “now let’s get busy.”
“He may have it, but I want to see it first,” replied the girl.
“Vat you t’ink; I carry all dot money around in my pocket?” cried
Bluber.
“Can’t you take our word for it?” grumbled Throck.
“You’re a nice bunch of crooks to ask me that,” she replied, laughing in
the face of the burly ruffians. “I’ll take Carl’s word for it, though;
if he tells me that you have it, and that it is in such shape that it
can, and will, be used to pay all the necessary expenses of our
expedition, I will believe him.”
Peebles and Throck scowled angrily, and Miranda’s eyes closed to two
narrow, nasty slits, as he directed his gaze upon the Russian. Bluber,
on the contrary, was affected not at all; the more he was insulted, the
better, apparently, he liked it. Toward one who treated him with
consideration or respect he would have become arrogant, while he fawned
upon the hand that struck him. Kraski, alone, smiled a self-satisfied
smile that set the blood of the Spaniard boiling.
“Bluber has the money, Flora,” he said; “each of us has contributed his
share. We’ll make Bluber treasurer, because we know that he will squeeze
the last farthing until it shrieks before he will let it escape him. It
is our plan now to set out from London in pairs.”
He drew a map from his pocket, and unfolding it, spread it out upon the
table before them. With his finger he indicated a point marked X. “Here
we will meet and here we will equip our expedition. Bluber and Miranda
will go first; then Peebles and Throck. By the time that you and I
arrive everything will be in shape for moving immediately into the
interior, where we shall establish a permanent camp, off the beaten
track and as near our objective as possible. Miranda will disport
himself behind his whiskers until he is ready to set out upon the final
stage of his long journey. I understand that he is well schooled in the
part that he is to play and that he can depict the character to
perfection. As he will have only ignorant natives and wild beasts to
deceive it should not tax his histrionic ability too greatly.” There was
a veiled note of sarcasm in the soft, drawling tone that caused the
black eyes of the Spaniard to gleam wickedly.
“Do I understand,” asked Miranda, his soft tone belying his angry scowl,
“that you and Miss Hawkes travel alone to X?”
“You do, unless your understanding is poor,” replied the Russian.
The Spaniard half rose from the table and leaned across it menacingly
toward Kraski. The girl, who was sitting next to him, seized his coat.
“None of that!” she said, dragging him back into his chair. “There has
been too much of it among you already, and if there is any more I shall
cut you all and seek more congenial companions for my expedition.”
“Yes, cut it out; ’ere we are, and that’s that!” exclaimed Peebles
belligerently.
“John’s right,” rumbled Throck, in his deep bass, “and I’m here to back
him up. Flora’s right, and I’m here to back her up. And if there is any
more of it, blime if I don’t bash a couple of you pretty ’uns,” and he
looked first at Miranda and then at Kraski.
“Now,” soothed Bluber, “let’s all shake hands and be good friends.”
“Right-o,” cried Peebles, “that’s the talk. Give ’im your ’and, Esteban.
Come, Carl, bury the ’atchet. We can’t start in on this thing with no
hanimosities, and ’ere we are, and that’s that.”
The Russian, feeling secure in his position with Flora, and therefore in
a magnanimous mood, extended his hand across the table toward the
Spaniard. For a moment Esteban hesitated.
“Come, man, shake!” growled Throck, “or you can go back to your job as
an extra man, blime, and we’ll find someone else to do your work and
divvy the swag with.”
Suddenly the dark countenance of the Spaniard was lighted by a pleasant
smile. He extended his hand quickly and clasped Kraski’s. “Forgive me,”
he said, “I am hot-tempered, but I mean nothing. Miss Hawkes is right,
we must all be friends, and here’s my hand on it, Kraski, as far as I am
concerned.”
“Good,” said Kraski, “and I am sorry if I offended you;” but he forgot
that the other was an actor, and if he could have seen into the depths
of that dark soul he would have shuddered.
“Und now, dot ve are all good friends,” said Bluber, rubbing his hands
together unctuously, “vy not arrange for vhen ve shall commence starting
to finish up everyt’ings? Miss Flora, she gives me the map und der
directions und we start commencing immediately.”
“Loan me a pencil, Carl,” said the girl, and when the man had handed her
one she searched out a spot upon the map some distance into the interior
from X, where she drew a tiny circle. “This is O,” she said. “When we
all reach here you shall have the final directions and not before.”
Bluber threw up his hands. “_Oi!_ Miss Flora, vhat you t’ink, ve spend
two t’ousand pounds to buy a pig in a poke? _Oi! Oi!_ you vouldn’t ask
us to do dot? Ve must see everyt’ing, ve must know everyt’ing, before ve
spend vun farthing.”
“Yes, and ’ere we are, and that’s that!” roared John Peebles, striking
the table with his fist.
The girl rose leisurely from her seat. “Oh, very well,” she said with a
shrug. “If you feel that way about it we might as well call it all off.”
“Oh, vait, vait, Miss Flora,” cried Bluber, rising hurriedly. “Don’t be
ogcited. But can’t you see vere ve are? Two t’ousand pounds is a lot of
money, and ve are good business men. Ve shouldn’t be spending it all
vit’out getting not’ings for it.”
“I am not asking you to spend it and get nothing for it,” replied the
girl, tartly; “but if anyone has got to trust anyone else in this
outfit, it is you who are going to trust me. If I give you all the
information I have, there is nothing in the world that could prevent you
from going ahead and leaving me out in the cold, and I don’t intend that
that shall happen.”
“But we are not gonoffs, Miss Flora,” insisted the Jew. “Ve vould not
t’ink for vun minute of cheating you.”
“You’re not angels, either, Bluber, any of you,” retorted the girl. “If
you want to go ahead with this you’ve got to do it in my way, and I am
going to be there at the finish to see that I get what is coming to me.
You’ve taken my word for it, up to the present time, that I had the
dope, and now you’ve got to take it the rest of the way or all bets are
off. What good would it do me to go over into a bally jungle and suffer
all the hardships that we are bound to suffer, dragging you along with
me, if I were not going to be able to deliver the goods when I got
there? And I am not such a softy as to think I could get away with it
with a bunch of bandits like you if I tried to put anything of that kind
over on you. And as long as I do play straight I feel perfectly safe,
for I know that either Esteban or Carl will look after me, and I don’t
know but what the rest of you would, too. Is it a go or isn’t it?”
“Vell, John, vot do you und Dick t’ink?” asked Bluber, addressing the
two ex-prize-fighters. “Carl, I know he vill t’ink v’hatever Flora
t’inks. Hey? V’at?”
“Blime,” said Throck, “I never was much of a hand at trusting nobody
unless I had to, but it looks now as though we had to trust Flora.”
“Same ’ere,” said John Peebles. “If you try any funny work, Flora—” He
made a significant movement with his finger across his throat.
“I understand, John,” said the girl with a smile, “and I know that you
would do it as quickly for two pounds as you would for two thousand. But
you are all agreed, then, to carry on according to my plans? You too,
Carl?”
The Russian nodded. “Whatever the rest say goes with me,” he remarked.
And so the gentle little coterie discussed their plans in so far as they
could—each minutest detail that would be necessary to place them all at
the O which the girl had drawn upon the map.