"If I'm any judge, _that's_ no exaggeration." Thus Mr. Staff after a
moment's pause which he utilised to look Mr. Iff over with a critical
eye.
Mr. Iff wagged his head. "Believe _me_," said he simply.
Staff fetched a decanter of Scotch and a glass, placing them on the
table by Iff's elbow, then turned away to get a siphon of charged water
from the icebox. But by the time he was back a staggering amount of
whiskey had disappeared from the decanter, a moist but empty glass stood
beside it, and Mr. Iff was stroking smiling lips with his delicate,
claw-like fingers. He discontinued this occupation long enough to wave
the siphon away.
"Not for me," he said tersely. "I've swallowed enough water this night
to last me for the rest of my life--half of the North River, more or
less; rather more, if you ask me."
"What were you doing in the North River?"
"Swimming."
This answer was evidently so adequate in Mr. Iff's understanding that he
made no effort to elaborate upon it; so that presently, growing
impatient, Staff felt called upon to ask:
"Well? What were you swimming for?"
"Dear life," said Iff--"life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness: the
incontestable birthright of every freeborn American citizen--if you must
know."
He relapsed into a reverie which seemed hugely diverting from the
reminiscent twinkle in the little man's eyes. From this he emerged long
enough to remark: "That's prime whiskey, you know.... Thanks very much,
I will." And again fell silent, stroking his lips.
"I don't want to seem to pry," said Staff at length, with elaborate
irony; "but in view of the fact that you've felt warranted in calling on
me via the fire-escape at one A.M., it doesn't seem unreasonable of me
to expect some sort of an explanation."
"Oh, very well," returned Iff, with resignation. "What would you like to
know?"
"Why did you disappear this morning--?"
"Yesterday morning," Iff corrected dispassionately.
"--yesterday morning, and how?"
"Because the time seemed ripe for me to do my marvellous vanishing
stunt. You see, I had a hunch that the dear captain would turn things
over in his mind and finally determine not to accept my credentials at
their face value. So I kind of stuck round the wireless room with my
ears intelligently pricked forward. Sure enough, presently I heard the
message go out, asking what about me and how so."
"You mean you read the operator's sending by ear?"
"Sure; I've got a telegrapher's ear as long as a mule's.... Whereupon,
knowing just about what sort of an answer 'd come through, I made up my
mind to duck. And did."
"But how--?"
"That'd be telling, and telling would get somebody aboard the
Autocratic into terrible bad trouble if it ever leaked out. I crawled in
out of the weather--let it go at that. I wish," said Mr. Iff soulfully,
"those damn' Pinkerton men had let it go at that. Once or twice I really
thought they had me, or would have me the next minute. And they wouldn't
give up. That's why I had to take to the water, after dark. My friend,
who shall be nameless, lent me the loan of a rope and I shinned down
and had a nice little swim before I found a place to crawl ashore. I
assure you that the North River tastes like hell.... O thank you; don't
mind if I do."
"Then," said Staff, watching the little man help himself on his own
invitation--"Then you are Ismay!"
"Wrong again," said Iff drearily. "Honest, it's a real shame, the way
you can't seem to win any bets at all."
"If you're not Ismay, what made you hide?"
"Ah!" cried Iff admiringly--"shrewd and pertinent question! Now I'll
tell you, and you won't believe me. Because--now pay strict
attention--because we're near-twins."
"Who are twins?" demanded Staff staring.
"Him and me--Ismay and I-double-F. First cousins we are: his mother was
my aunt. Worse and more of it: our fathers were brothers. They married
the same day; Ismay and I were born in the same month. We look just
enough alike to be mistaken for one another when we're not together.
That's been a great help to him; he's made me more trouble than I've
time to tell you. The last time, I was pinched in his place and escaped
a penitentiary sentence by the narrowest kind of a shave. That got my
mad up, and I served notice on him to quit his foolishness or I'd get
after him. He replied by cooking up a fine little scheme that almost
laid me by the heels again. So I declared war and 've been camping on
his trail ever since."
He paused and twiddled his thumbs, staring reflectively at the ceiling.
"I'm sure I don't know why I bore myself telling you all this. What's
the use?"
"Never mind," said Staff in an encouraging manner; he was genuinely
diverted. "At worst it's a worthy and uplifting--ah--fiction. Go on....
Then you're not a Secret Service man after all?"
"Nothing like that; I'm doing this thing on my own."
"How about that forged paper you showed the captain?"
"Wasn't forged--genuine."
"Chapter Two," observed Staff, leaning back. "It is a dark and stormy
night; we are all seated about the camp-fire. The captain says:
'Antonio, go to it.'"
"You are certainly one swell, appreciative audience," commented Iff
morosely. "Let's see if I can't get a laugh with this one: One of the
best little things my dear little cousin does being to pass himself off
as me, he got himself hired by the Treasury Department some years ago
under the name of William Howard Iff. That helped him a lot in his
particular line of business. But after a while he felt that it cramped
his style, so he just faded noiselessly away--retaining his credentials.
Then--while I was in Paris last week--he thought it would be a grand
joke to send me that document with his compliments and the suggestion
that it might be some help to me in my campaign for his scalp. That's
how I happened to have it."
"That's going some," Staff admitted admiringly. "Tell me another one.
_If_ you're Iff and not Ismay, what brought you over on the Autocratic?"
"Business of keeping an eye on my dearly beloved cousin," said Iff
promptly.
"You mean Ismay was on board, too?"
"'Member that undergrown waster with the red-and-grey Vandyke and the
horn-rimmed _pince nez_, who was always mooning round with a book under
his arm?"
"Yes...."
"That was Cousin Arbuthnot disguised in his own hair."
"If that was so, why didn't you denounce him when you were accused of
stealing the Cadogan collar?"
"Because I knew he hadn't got away with it."
"How did you know?"
"At least I was pretty positive about it. You'll have to be patient--and
intelligent--if you want to understand and follow me back to Paris. The
three of us were there: Ismay, Miss Landis, myself. Miss Landis was
dickering with Cottier's for the necklace, Ismay sticking round and not
losing sight of her much of the time, I was looking after Ismay. Miss
Landis buys the collar and a ticket for London; Ismay buys a ticket for
London; I trail. Then Miss Landis makes another purchase--a razor, in a
shop near the hotel where I happen to be loafing."
"A razor!"
"That's the way it struck me, too.... Scene Two: Cockspur Street,
London. I'm not sure what boat Miss Landis means to take; I've got a
notion it's the Autocratic, but I'm stalling till I know. You drift into
the office, I recognise you and recall that you're pretty thick with
Miss Landis. Nothing more natural than that you and she should go home
by the same steamer. Similarly--Ismay.... Oh, yes, I understand it was
pure coincidence; but I took a chance and filled my hand. After we'd
booked and you'd strutted off, I lingered long enough to see Miss Landis
drive up in a taxi with a whaling big bandbox on top of the cab. She
booked right under my nose; I made a note of the bandbox....
"Then you came aboard with the identical bandbox and your funny story
about how you happened to have it. I smelt a rat: Miss Landis hadn't
sent you that bandbox anonymously for no purpose. Then one
afternoon--long toward six o'clock--I see Miss Landis's maid come out on
deck and jerk a little package overboard--package just about big enough
to hold a razor. That night I'm dragged up on the carpet before the
captain; I hear a pretty fairy tale about the collar disappearing while
Jane was taking the bandbox back to your steward. The handbag is on the
table, in plain sight; it isn't locked--a blind man can see that; and
the slit in its side has been made by a razor. I add up the bandbox and
the razor and multiply the sum by the fact that the average woman will
smuggle as quick as the average man will take a drink; and I'm Jeremiah
Wise, Esquire."
"That's the best yet," Staff applauded. "But--see here--why didn't you
tell what you knew, if you knew so much, when you were accused?"
Iff grimaced sourly. "Get ready to laugh. This is one you won't fall
for--not in a thousand years."
"Shoot," said Staff.
"I like you," said Iff simply. "You're foolish in the head sometimes,
but in the main you mean well."
"That's nice of you--but what has it to do with my question?"
"Everything. You're sweet on the girl, and I don't wish to put a crimp
in your young romance by showing her up in her true colours.
Furthermore, you may be hep to her little scheme; I don't believe it,
but I know that, if you are, you won't let me suffer for it. And
finally, in the senility of my dotage I conned myself into believing I
could bluff it out; at the worst, I could prove my innocence easily
enough. But what I didn't take into consideration was that I was laying
myself open to arrest for impersonating an agent of the Government. When
I woke up to that fact, the only thing I could see to do was to duck in
out of the blizzard."