The Antidote
The Commissioner’s reply was brought to Armourer at a little before
seven.
Like the greater proportion of official messages, it was at once
highly satisfactory and intensely irritating.
The magistrate was ordered to proceed on his expedition against
Abu-Samar with the least delay possible; at the same time, he was on
no account to leave Jelandang before a suitable substitute had arrived
there to take his place. A runner had been dispatched to
Lindsay--whose _flying-column_ was understood to be somewhere in
Armourer’s area--instructing him to proceed immediately to Jelandang.
Armourer was to hand over his duties to him and to take command of his
men--who numbered eleven. Cases of ammunition and rations would be
placed on the morning train, and the magistrate was advised to have
bearers waiting at the nearest halt in readiness to receive them.
The Commissioner was endeavouring to get in touch with Battiscombe,
and Armourer was enjoined to leave a suitable guide at Jelandang who
would proceed to Battiscombe, as soon as his party had been located,
and bring him along in support of the main body.
He folded the letter carefully and thrust it into the upper pocket of
his tunic. Leaning on the verandah-rail, he watched the bustle of
preparation in the clearing below.
A small army of natives, borrowed from a neighbouring village, had
replaced Vance’s coolies. Short, sturdy men, most of them nude from
the waist upwards, who chattered and laughed amid a pyramid of cases,
as if about to embark upon the greatest joy-ride in their experience.
A sturdy corporal, with an expressionless face, was methodically
obtaining order from chaos. Sembilan, as fresh as if he had slept the
round of the clock, was grooming Trevor’s pony, while Armourer’s
mount, already attended to, had wandered to where the grass appeared
to offer the most nutriment. At the foot of the steps a couple of men
were cleaning rifles.
Armourer was turning the contents of Stewart’s letter over in his
mind. It was a comprehensive document, concise and well thought out,
and it gave the magistrate grim satisfaction to reflect that somebody
besides himself had lost many hours of slumber over the Abu-Samar
affair.
The delay irritated him. He had planned, toiled, strained every nerve
to get away with the dawn, and now he found himself compelled to cool
his heels until Lindsay chose to roll up. But argue with himself as he
might, he could not deny the wisdom of waiting for those eleven
additional men. Then there was the question of the cases to be fetched
from the railway. The train was due at the halt at ten minutes past
eleven. More than probably it would be late--and the goods had to be
handled and brought across to the starting-point. More delay! It meant
postponing their departure until after lunch, and perhaps till the
evening, if Lindsay lost his way. With the knowledge that Samar had
men hanging about in the trees, he intended to move in as compact a
body as possible and run no risk of having his supply-column cut off.
Chong-Si brought in the tea.
Armourer poured out two cups and, opening the door of his own room,
carried them to where Trevor still slept. The planter stirred as the
mosquito-curtains parted, and looked up sleepily.
“Hullo, old son!”
“Hullo!” responded the magistrate. “How d’you feel?”
Trevor sat up.
“O.K. thanks. What’s the time?”
“Somewhere around half-past seven.”
Trevor slid his feet to the ground and took his cup. He stirred it
thoughtfully.
“Suppose we’ll be pushing off soon?”
Armourer shook his head.
“I don’t see the slightest hope of starting before evening. Stewart
wants me to wait for my relief to arrive. That in itself is damnably
annoying, but he’s bringing us eleven men, for which I suppose we
ought to be thankful. Then there’s a lot of junk to be fetched from
the railway. It won’t be there before eleven, and I thought, if you
didn’t mind, that you might take the bearers over and see they don’t
hang about on the way.”
Trevor felt for the slippers he had brought over in his haversack.
“Right you are! I’m game.”
“I shall leave two of my own fellows with the new chap and a third to
join Battiscombe and bring him along after us as soon as the
Commissioner locates him. That leaves us fifteen men--eleven of
Lindsay’s and four of mine. Jimmy’s probably taken half a dozen on his
little jaunt, so we ought to have ample for the job.”
Trevor blinked.
“Got plenty of ammunition?”
“I’ve a fair supply already--and there’s more on the way.”
“And the brown girl?”
Armourer nodded his head towards the verandah.
“She’s still out there. As far as I can gather, she seems fit and
shows no signs of wanting to go back on her bargain. If we can get
away in the cool of the evening, we should make good progress before
nightfall. I haven’t the remotest idea how far we have to go, but it’s
going to be forced marching for everybody until we come in contact
with Abu-Samar’s outposts.”
He took Trevor’s empty cup and, having disembarrassed himself of both,
perched himself on the foot of the bed.
“I’ve been trying to reason myself into a sensible state of mind
regarding Mrs. Battiscombe’s predicament,” he continued. “She’s in an
unholy mess, of course, but I am inclined to believe she’s in no
immediate danger. You yourself can testify that she had no end of a
rotten trip into the backwoods. From the little I know of the effects
of hypnotism, I understand that it leaves people pretty weak. She was
only convalescent when she bolted from here and, although Jimmy
insists that she has a wonderful constitution, I’m convinced that this
last experience has brought on the fever again.”
“Yes,” agreed Trevor, “I fancy you’re right there. Even if she went
away in some sort of a trance, she must have come to her senses by
now, and be scared into the bargain.”
The magistrate placed a hand on either knee.
“That’s just how I figure it out. You see, Trevor, that all this
confounded delay, although intensely annoying, means that we shall
have time to collect our wits and organise. We shall move as a
well-equipped, well-provisioned column, instead of straggling along in
little detachments that might come to grief if suddenly surrounded and
cut off by Samar’s men. They’ll get to work with their poisoned darts
in any case, and it’s quite on the cards we’ll have Abu’s collection
of insects to contend with as well; but some of us are bound to get
through. Then there’s the _moral_ effect of a determined punitive
force. Whatever influence our friend has over the tribesmen, they’re
bound to get uneasy when they begin to learn that Mrs. Battiscombe’s
abduction has been regarded, not from the point of view of ransom, but
in a far more serious light.”
Trevor began spreading the contents of his haversack over the bed.
“I’ll get dressed at once,” he announced, “and you’d better turn in
for a spell.”
Armourer smiled.
“I shan’t attempt to sleep before lunch,” he said. “If by that time I
see no prospect of an early departure, I may try and squeeze in a
couple of hours. There’s a deuce of a lot of spade-work to be got
through yet.”
The planter was surveying his mud-stained garments of the night
before.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to borrow some clothes. If you happen to have a
suit that’s shrunk in the wash so much the better! You’re a good deal
bigger than me.”
“I’ll see what Chong-Si can do for you,” laughed the magistrate.
He shouted for the servant.
“There’s one thing to be thankful for,” declared Trevor, “and that is
that Jimmy Battiscombe isn’t anywhere in the neighbourhood. He’s gone
through a lot lately and this last bit of news would about bowl him
over.”
Chong-Si appeared at the door.
“The _Tuan_ Trevor wants some clothes,” said his master. “Bring
everything you can find and let him choose for himself.”
The Chinaman reflected for a moment and began pulling open drawers and
diving into the inner mysteries of a zinc-lined trunk.
When Trevor met the train he found, not only the cases he had come
there to collect, but the genial professor and his pretty daughter.
Standen was in great spirits.
“Morning, Trevor!” he shouted from the coach. “So you’ve been raked
into this little affair too?”
The younger man hurried forward to assist Joyce.
As soon as both were on _terra firma_, Trevor turned to Standen.
“You know what’s happened?” he suggested.
The professor nodded.
“The Commissioner sent me news last night, and I made arrangements to
return immediately. It’s a regrettable state of affairs, of course,
and I feel extremely anxious about Mrs. Battiscombe, but the incident
has brought the Samar business to a head, and I suppose that’s
something.”
“Give me your _barang_,” said Trevor; “my men can carry it up with the
rest of the stuff. How d’you do, Miss Standen? You’ve arrived just in
time to see the start of what promises to be a really interesting
adventure.”
A man poked his head from a window and called.
“Say, Trevor, tell Armourer that young Lindsay’s on his way now and
should be at his place this afternoon. He’ll understand.”
The planter waved an arm.
“All right, Barnes, and many thanks. He’ll be glad to hear it. You
keeping fit?”
“Fit as a fiddle. You look well.”
The train moved on.
They were on their way up the slope, with a straggling line of bearers
behind them, when the professor spoke again.
“I suppose there is such a thing as luck,” he declared suddenly.
“Abu-Samar’s had it all on his side up to within the last couple of
days--and now it’s swung round to ours.”
Trevor glanced up sharply, a puzzled expression on his face. “It’s
swung round, has it?”
“Absolutely.” He tapped a large water-bottle which was slung from his
shoulder on a leather strap. “Everything depends on the contents of
this flask. I hit on it yesterday, after countless futile experiments,
and went down to Jesselton to put it to the test. Joyce and I are
joining your expedition--myself because I believe my presence is
essential, and my daughter because she refuses point-blank to be left
behind. Whatever horrors our black magician may have in store for us,
I am ready for him.”
Trevor gasped. “You don’t mean to say you’ve found an antidote?”
Standen patted the younger man’s shoulder.
“There’s not the least doubt about it.” He beamed all over his face.
“That’s puts a different complexion on affairs, doesn’t it?”
“By Jove, it does!” murmured Trevor. “It ought to prove the
turning-point of everything.”
Joyce laughed.
“Poor old daddy!” she said. “He’s _so_ pleased with himself.
Everybody’s been praising him and trotting round after him--and he
does just love being praised and trotted round after! He’s tried his
marvellous discovery on monkeys and native criminals, and he’s so
delighted with his new toy that I really believe he’d have
experimented on me, if I’d let him!”
The professor shook his head delightedly.
“There’s a daughter for you, Mr. Trevor! Her sole object in existence
is to hold her poor old father up to ridicule--but we’ve found the
antidote, my boy, and that’s all that really matters.”
Lindsay reached Jelandang at four and at five-thirty Armourer rode
out, at the head of his column, with a fierce sun on its downward
course and a pleasant breeze shaking the topmost leaves of the palms.
Joyce rode between her father and Trevor, and Lindsay, leaning over
the verandah-rail with two rebellious terriers tethered beside him,
watched them off.