The Black Bag by Louis Joseph Vance (best manga ereader .TXT) đ
- Author: Louis Joseph Vance
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inarticulate ejaculation, might have been taken to indicate either
satisfaction or disgust. He ignored Kirkwood altogether, for the time
being, and presently produced a small, bright object, which, applied to his
lips, proved to be a boatswainâs whistle. He sounded two blasts, one long,
one brief.
There fell a lull, Kirkwood watching the other and wondering what next
would happen. Calendar paced restlessly to and fro upon the narrow landing,
now stopping to incline an ear to catch some anticipated sound, now
searching with sweeping glances the black reaches of the Pool.
Finally, consulting his watch, âAlmost ten,â he announced.
âWeâre in time?â
âCanât sayâŠ. Damn! ⊠If that infernal boat would only show upââ
He was lifting the whistle to sound a second summons when a rowboat rounded
a projecting angle formed by the next warehouse down stream, and with
clanking oar-locks swung in toward the landing. On her thwarts two figures,
dipping and rising, labored with the sweeps. As they drew in, the man
forward shipped his blades, and rising, scrambled to the bows in order to
grasp an iron mooring-ring set in the wall. The other awkwardly took in his
oars and, as the current swung the stern downstream, placed a hand palm
downward upon the bottom step to hold the boat steady.
Calendar waddled to the brink of the stage, grunting with relief.
âThe other man?â he asked brusquely. âHas he gone aboard? Or is this the
first trip to-night?â
One of the watermen nodded assent to the latter question, adding gruffly:
âSeen nawthinâ of âim, sir.â
âVery good,â said Calendar, as if he doubted whether it were very good or
bad. âWeâll wait a bit.â
âRight-o!â agreed the waterman civilly.
Calendar turned back, his small eyes glimmering with satisfaction. Fumbling
in one coat pocket he brought to light a cigar-case. âHave a smoke?â he
suggested with a show of friendliness. âBy Heaven, I was beginninâ to get
worried!â
âAs to what?â inquired Kirkwood pointedly, selecting a cigar.
He got no immediate reply, but felt Calendarâs sharp eyes upon him while he
manoeuvered with matches for a light.
âThatâs so,â it came at length. âYou donât know. I kind of forgot for a
minute; somehow you seemed on the inside.â
Kirkwood laughed lightly. âIâve experienced something of the same sensation
in the past few hours.â
âDonât doubt it.â Calendar was watching him narrowly. âI suppose,â he put
it to him abruptly, âyou havenât changed your mind?â
âChanged my mind?â
âAbout coming in with me.â
âMy dear sir, I can have no mind to change until a plain proposition is
laid before me.â
âHmm!â Calendar puffed vigorously until it occurred to him to change the
subject. âYou wonât mind telling me what happened to you and Dorothy?â
âCertainly not.â
Calendar drew nearer and Kirkwood, lowering his voice, narrated briefly the
events since he had left the Pless in Dorothyâs company.
Her father followed him intently, interrupting now and again with
exclamation or pertinent question; as, Had Kirkwood been able to see the
face of the man in No. 9, Frognall Street? The negative answer seemed to
disconcert him.
âYoungster, you say? Blamâ if I can lay my mind to him! Now if that
Mulreadyââ
âIt would have been impossible for Mulreadyâwhoever he isâto recover and
get to Craven Street before we did,â Kirkwood pointed out.
âWellâgo on.â But when the tale was told, âItâs that scoundrel, Mulready!â
the man affirmed with heat. âItâs his handâI know him. I might have had
sense enough to see heâd take the first chance to hand me the double-cross.
Well, this does for him, all right!â Calendar lowered viciously at the
river. âYouâve been blameâ useful,â he told Kirkwood assertively. âIf
it hadnât been for you, I donât know where Iâd be now,ânor Dorothy,
either,ââan obvious afterthought. âThereâs no particular way I can show my
appreciation, I suppose? Moneyâ?â
âIâve got enough to last me till I reach New York, thank you.â
âWell, if the time ever comes, just shout for George B. I wonât be
wantingâŠ. I only wish you were with us; but thatâs out of the question.â
âDoubtless âŠâ
âNo two ways about it. I bet anything youâve got a conscience concealed
about your person. What? Youâre an honest man, eh?â
âI donât want to sound immodest,â returned Kirkwood, amused.
âYou donât need to worry about thatâŠ. But an honest manâs got no business
in my line.â He glanced again at his watch. âDamn that Mulready! I wonder
if he was âcute enough to take another way? Or did he think ⊠The fool!â
He cut off abruptly, seeming depressed by the thought that he might have
been outwitted; and, clasping hands behind his back, chewed savagely on his
cigar, watching the river. Kirkwood found himself somewhat wearied; the
uselessness of his presence there struck him with added force. He bethought
him of his boat-train, scheduled to leave a station miles distant, in an
hour and a half. If he missed it, he would be stranded in a foreign land,
penniless and practically without friendsâBrentwick being away and all the
rest of his circle of acquaintances on the other side of the Channel. Yet
he lingered, in poor company, daring fate that he might see the end of the
affair. Why?
There was only one honest answer to that question. He stayed on because of
his interest in a girl whom he had known for a matter of three hours, at
most. It was insensate folly on his part, ridiculous from any point of
view. But he made no move to go.
The slow minutes lengthened monotonously.
There came a sound from the street level. Calendar held up a hand of
warning. âHere they come! Steady!â he said tensely. Kirkwood, listening
intently, interpreted the noise as a clash of hoofs upon cobbles.
Calendar turned to the boat.
âSheer off,â he ordered. âDrop out of sight. Iâll whistle when I want you.â
âAye, aye, sir.â
The boat slipped noiselessly away with the current and in an instant was
lost to sight. Calendar plucked at Kirkwoodâs sleeve, drawing him into the
shadow of the steps. âE-easy,â he whispered; âand, I say, lend me a hand,
will you, if Mulready turns ugly?â
âOh, yes,â assented Kirkwood, with a nonchalance not entirely unassumed.
The racket drew nearer and ceased; the hush that fell thereafter seemed
only accentuated by the purling of the river. It was ended by footsteps
echoing in the covered passageway. Calendar craned his thick neck round the
shoulder of stone, reconnoitering the landing and stairway.
âThank God!â he said under his breath. âI was right, after all!â
A manâs deep tones broke out above. âThis way. Mind the steps; theyâre a
bit slippery, Miss Dorothy.â
âBut my fatherâ?â came the girlâs voice, attuned to doubt.
âOh, heâll be alongâif he isnât waiting now, in the boat.â
They descended, the man leading. At the foot, without a glance to right or
left, he advanced to the edge of the stage, leaning out over the rail as if
endeavoring to locate the rowboat. At once the girl appeared, moving to his
side.
âBut, Mr. Mulreadyââ
The girlâs words were drowned by a prolonged blast on the boatswainâs
whistle at her companionâs lips; the shorter one followed in due course.
Calendar edged forward from Kirkwoodâs side.
âBut what shall we do if my father isnât here? Wait?â
âNo; best not to; best to get on the Alethea as soon as possible, Miss
Calendar. We can send the boat back.â
ââOnce aboard the lugger the girl is mineââeh, Mulready?âto say nothing
of the loot!â
If Calendarâs words were jocular, his tone conveyed a different impression
entirely. Both man and girl wheeled right about to face him, the one with a
strangled oath, the other with a low cry.
âThe devil!â exclaimed this Mr. Mulready.
âOh! My father!â the girl voiced her recognition of him.
âNot precisely one and the same person,â commented Calendar suavely.
âButâerâthanks, just as muchâŠ. You see, Mulready, when I make an
appointment, I keep it.â
âWeâd begun to get a bit anxious about youââ Mulready began defensively.
âSo I surmised, from what Mrs. Hallam and Mr. Kirkwood told meâŠ. Well?â
The man found no ready answer. He fell back a pace to the railing, his
features working with his deep chagrin. The murky flare of the gas-lamp
overhead fell across a face handsome beyond the ordinary but marred by a
sullen humor and seamed with indulgence: a face that seemed hauntingly
familiar until Kirkwood in a flash of visual memory reconstructed the
portrait of a man who lingered over a dining-table, with two empty chairs
for company. This, then, was he whom Mrs. Hallam had left at the Pless; a
tall, strong man, very heavy about the chest and shouldersâŠ.
âWhy, my dear friend,â Calendar was taunting him, âyou donât seem overjoyed
to see me, for all your wild anxiety! âPon my word, you act as if you
hadnât expected meâand our engagement so clearly understood, at that! âŠ
Why, you fool!ââhere the mask of irony was cast. âDid you think for a
moment Iâd let myself be nabbed by that yap from Scotland Yard? Were you
banking on that? I give you my faith I ambled out under his very nose! âŠ
Dorothy, my dear,â turning impatiently from Mulready, âwhereâs that bag?â
The girl withdrew a puzzled gaze from Mulreadyâs face, (it was apparent to
Kirkwood that this phase of the affair was no more enigmatic to him than to
her), and drew aside a corner of her cloak, disclosing the gladstone bag,
securely grasped in one gloved hand.
âI have it, thanks to Mr. Kirkwood,â she said quietly.
Kirkwood chose that moment to advance from the shadow. Mulready started and
fixed him with a troubled and unfriendly stare. The girl greeted him with a
note of sincere pleasure in her surprise.
âWhy, Mr. Kirkwood! ⊠But I left you at Mrs. Hallamâs!â
Kirkwood bowed, smiling openly at Mulreadyâs discomfiture.
âBy your fatherâs grace, I came with him,â he said. âYou ran away without
saying good night, you know, and Iâm a jealous creditor.â
She laughed excitedly, turning to Calendar. âBut you were to meet me at
Mrs. Hallamâs?â
âMulready was good enough to try to save me the trouble, my dear. Heâs an
unselfish soul, Mulready. Fortunately it happened that I came along not
five minutes after heâd carried you off. How was that, Dorothy?â
Her glance wavered uneasily between the two, Mulready and her father. The
former, shrugging to declare his indifference, turned his back squarely
upon them. She frowned.
âHe came out of Mrs. Hallamâs and got into the four-wheeler, saying you had
sent him to take your place, and would join us on the Alethea.â
âSo-o! How about it, Mulready?â
The man swung back slowly. âWhat you choose to think,â he said after a
deliberate pause.
âWell, never mind! Weâll go over the matter at our leisure on the
Alethea.â
There was in the adventurerâs tone a menace, bitter and not to be ignored;
which Mulready saw fit to challenge.
âI think not,â he declared; âI think not. Iâm weary of your addlepated
suspicions. Itâd be plain to any one but a fool that I acted for the best
interests of all concerned in this matter. If youâre not content to see it
in that light, Iâm done.â
âOh, if you want to put it that way,
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