‘Pooh! The salt of life,’ Voogdt interrupted. ‘That’s what makes life worth the living. How sweet this old boat steers before a wind. On that one point I agree with you, anyhow: she’s a good, homely ship, and I’ve grown fond of her, too.’
We held the breeze into Newhaven, making a quick voyage of it with no bother at all, but once in harbour our troubles began in earnest. The harbour master, a slow-witted, distrustful South Saxon, led off by asking us, very properly, what was our business.
‘Our orders is to get ballast out and be ready to load,’ said Voogdt incautiously, and the man went away.
‘Now you’ve done it,’ I said. ‘D’you think we can leave half our ballast and take away the other half without exciting suspicion after that?’
‘We’ll see. I’m sorry. Meanwhile, don’t hurry about getting the stuff out of her.’
He wrote Ward again that night, taking full responsibility for his hasty answer, and next day we dawdled over our work until the harbour master wanted to know if we’d bought the ballast quay. ‘There’s others besides you,’ he said.
‘We’re in no ’urry, guv’nor,’ Voogdt said placidly. ‘We ain’t got our orders yet. If anybody wants to ballast they can lay outside so’s we can discharge into ’em direct.’
Naturally neither of us thought the offer would be accepted, but it was. There might have been twelve tons out on the quay when another coaster, the Teresa of Waterford, warped alongside us in the afternoon. We started emptying our tubs into her hold perforce, but our pace wasn’t fast enough for her owner, Irish though he was.
‘Talk o’ th’ Irish bein’ lazy,’ he said, with supreme contempt, after watching us for an hour. ‘Sure, fleas won’t bit a South Dev’n man thinkin’ th’ poor fella’s dead. ’Nless he’s in a hurry, an’ then they schwarm on ’m, perceivin’ he’s only aslape. Here, Byrne an’ Lar’nce, jump aboard that floatin’ rest cure an’ show them dead slugs how t’ shift ballast.’
‘You keep your men off my decks,’ I said.
‘Pho! Sure ye can take up the carpets before they come aboard. You, an’ y’r decks! D’ye think my men are dirtier than y’r—plankin’?’
‘We don’t want your Irish fleas coming aboard to be disappointed,’ said Voogdt. ‘If you don’t like our pace, get out in midstream again, and wait your turn at the quay. We don’t get extra pay for loading you.’
‘I tho’t ye did, the way ye’re flyin’ at it. Holy saints! I believe I’d get ballasted quicker on the moorin’s with the weeds that ’ud grow on our bottom.’
The altercation brought the harbour master round to us once more, and the Irishman appealed to him. Fortunately the ancient hatred of Celt and Saxon served us.
‘First come, first served,’ said he stolidly. ‘They was here first. If you don’t like their ways, you must wait your turn.’
‘This is a useful way of escaping notice,’ I said to Voogdt, when we got a minute alone in the cabin. ‘And the ballast is being lost, too. Got any further complications up your sleeve?’
‘Don’t worry. Smile,’ said he. ‘Ward’ll be here tonight, and I rather fancy I see trouble for Cheyne in this.’
‘I see more trouble for us,’ I said. ‘There’s a hundred quid thrown away every time a tub’s emptied into that Irishman’s hold, work as slowly as we will.’
‘Don’t worry, I tell you. Wait for Ward. This’ll be a coup, or I’m mistaken.’
Ward arrived that night, and sure enough they managed it between them. Next day he passed the word that we could ballast the Teresa as fast as we pleased. She was bound for Neath Abbey to load coal, and Carwithen was already arranging to remove the ballast on her arrival. For ourselves, we were to empty our hold, load with a cargo of deals Ward had bought, and take them to Swanage instead of the ballast as originally arranged. He had chartered another coaster lying in harbour and instructed Carwithen to arrange a coal cargo for her at Jarrow-on-Tyne, where she would take the ballast we had already thrown out on the quay.
‘But what about Cheyne? He’ll ask questions.’
‘Let him,’ said Voogdt, and Ward’s post-office mouth quivered a little at the corners. ‘With half the cargo at Jarrow and half at Neath Abbey, let him ask all the questions he pleases.’
‘But what about the sixth share of the lot we were to have landed at Swanage? He’ll want to know about that.’
‘We’ll credit him with that,’ said Ward.
‘Suppose he hears we went there with deals?’
‘He won’t hear of it in the ordinary way, and I don’t think he’ll dare ask questions. If he does, he can only learn that you have discharged half your ballast on the quay, and that another coaster took it. That’s happened to us many times before. He won’t suspect anything from that.’
‘What do you think of Cheyne?’ I asked.
‘I’m very sorry for the whole business. I thought better of him. It’s very fortunate you two are partners with us.’
‘You put it mildly. Now, let me get this business straight in my head. When Cheyne asks questions what am I to say?’
‘Say you discharged about eighteen tons here, and sailed for Swanage. That’s all you need bother about.
‘A few more attempts like this and we shall make a slip and give the show away.’
‘It’s more than possible,’ Ward said. ‘But obviously I can’t interfere. The remedy lies in your own hands. If you persuade Cheyne of the risk and difficulty, perhaps he won’t try it again.’
He did, though. He tried it the very next voyage. Complications arose after we left Newhaven, and when we met next he was raving. His customer had sent a haulier to fetch away the mud, and the man, naturally ignorant of the stuff he had to deal with, hauled ten tons of worthless ballast dumped by a dredger and put it on rail. The customer, advised of its departure, sold it, rubbed his hands, and woke a morning or two later to find a bundle of furious letters on his desk ordering him to remove his rubbish. Cheyne was dancing mad, cursing and furious, and accusing us of having mucked the affair. Voogdt tried to pacify him, pointing out that removal from quays was one of our ordinary risks, and then joined me in the cabin. I hadn’t seen much fun in it up to then, but now we literally cried with laughter, stuffing our mouths with tablecloth to stifle the noise. It cheered me up considerably, that.
The customer was bullying Cheyne and requesting delivery of the promised consignment, so he pressed us to have another try on the same lines, and this voyage very nearly gave the show away. Our port of destination was Goole, and we were to leave the stolen half-cargo at Yarmouth. Here, being questioned, Voogdt told a story of fussy owners who insisted on over-ballasting us, and said we were lightening the boat against orders. I never heard a more improbable tale, and of course the harbour master’s suspicion was excited at once.
‘What’ll he think when the stuff gets carted away?’ I asked, when we were clear of the harbour.
‘It won’t be carted away. I wired Ward in code: “Amanuensis Syllable,” which, being interpreted, means “Suspicions aroused, remove by sea.”’
‘Think he’ll manage it?’
‘Bet your life he will. He and Carwithen are two men with big heads. I’m developing a sound respect for the pair of them now I’ve had some experience of their trade. They’ll manage it all right.’
They did and when we got back to Terneuzen from Goole, Cheyne was past swearing even. His customer had been compelled to buy from Ward to fulfil his first orders; Ward, smiling quietly, had squeezed the price up to its top limit to punish him, and the customer had written Cheyne a letter that nearly turned him grey. He got little comfort from us.
‘Tell your customer they’re ordinary business losses, under the circumstances,’ Voogdt suggested maliciously.
‘What’s the use of talking that sort of rot? He threatens he’ll accidentally give me away unless the goods are delivered.’
‘He doesn’t write you here, does he?’ I asked, startled.
‘No fear. Antwerp
post office. I go there to fetch his letters.’
‘He must know you’re thieving, or he wouldn’t talk of exposure.’
‘Thieving!’ He didn’t like it put so brutally as that. Choose your words better. And if it is thieving, you’re in it too.’
‘We know all about that,’ Voogdt interrupted, suddenly taking the offensive. ‘We’re in it, right enough, but where does our pay come in? You make a lot of promises; we do our part of the business, and then all you have to show us is a letter from your customer to say he hasn’t had the goods. That’s no manner of use to me. You’ve got to pay us for delivery on shore, and that’s all there is about it. If things are bungled after we’ve done our share of the work, that’s no fault of ours.’
‘They’re only ordinary business losses.’ Cheyne, aghast at the sudden attack, found it his turn to plead our disregarded excuse.
‘That may be. We haven’t learnt the game as well as you have,’ said Voogdt truculently. ‘All I know is that we’ve done thieving at your orders and now we aren’t to get paid for it. You’ll oblige me by brassing up a hundred apiece—fifty quid a voyage—to compensate us for our trouble.’
Cheyne was flabbergasted. ‘When you get a cargo through, I will. I promise I will. But surely, my dear chap, you don’t expect me to pay you on top of my losses?’
He was livid, and I must confess Voogdt’s sudden turning of the tables had taken me aback.
‘I do expect it. And, what’s more, I mean having the money. So you just get out your cheque-book before we go any further into the matter.’
Cheyne protested, pleaded, cursed and swore, but all to no effect. We had him fast, and in the end he fished out the cheque-book from his desk and wrote us one apiece to the tune of a hundred pounds shaking with rage and funk.
‘Good enough,’ said Voogdt coolly, pocketing both the slips. ‘Now, about this next voyage. Dumping half-a-load of ballast on this quay, and another half-load on that, doesn’t appear to work out properly. And it’s dangerous, too. The lies I had to tell at Yarmouth this last voyage wouldn’t deceive a sucking child, and the next thing’ll be that we shall blow the gaff. We’ll work one more cargo through for you and then I’m finished. And that cargo won’t go ashore at all. You or your pal must charter a barge, bring her alongside in some anchorage in France for preference—Brest. Roads’ll do as well as anywhere—and we’ll unload into her.’
‘That’ll never do—’
‘It’s got to do. It’s all very well for you to be careless—you’ve made your pile. I haven’t, and I don’t intend this show shall be given away until I have. So make your own arrangements, but remember we don’t put another ounce of stuff ashore for you anywhere.’
Cheyne had to give in, of course. We were to make a couple of voyages on the square and by that time he thought he could arrange for the transhipment Voogdt ordered.
Confused by all the mist of lying, I could yet see that Voogdt’s was a very good plan and, when Cheyne had gone, taxed him with double dealing.
‘Thanks to you, he’ll pull that off,’ I said. ‘Are you playing straight, Austin?’
‘Straight!’ said he cheerfully. ‘Straight, did you say? What is there straight in the whole business? The firm is stealing—from the Dutch Government, I suppose; Cheyne’s trying to steal from them; and we’re blackmailing him. But what can we do, Jem? We dare not go on playing Cheyne’s game; we dare not open his eyes; and we dare not let his customer make trouble. I’m acting as I believe Ward would act in my place. I propose to let them have this one cargo to shut the customer’s mouth—reporting it to Birmingham, of course—and after that we must hope Cheyne’s too scared to try it again. If we refuse to help him he’ll get somebody else, and that means more risk. The two hundred we’ve got out of him and our two-thirds share of the theft we’ll send to Brum to be divided in the usual way. That’ll go towards squaring the loss on Cheyne’s share of this next stolen cargo. Add the two cargoes we’ve bagged and he hasn’t, and I should think the firm is a bit ahead on the game. Can you suggest a better plan?’
‘Not I. Devising roguery isn’t my strong point. But you’re a bit of a marvel, Austin. It beats me the way the chap’s been headed off at every turn. You’re a wonder.’
‘Rot!’ said he, chuckling. ‘That’s Ward’s doing. Look how he tackled the situation at Newhaven. It’s been good fun, so far. But, mind you, once a man’s off the straight track it’s not so easy for him to pull up. Probably Cheyne won’t try this dodge again, but we must watch him. He’ll be up to something else, or I’m much mistaken.’
Ward met us at our next port, Erith, in London river, and Voogdt made his report. He listened saying nothing until Voogdt proposed the payment of our shares and Cheyne’s two hundred pounds into the common fund of the syndicate. Then he raised objections.
‘There’s no reason for that,’ he said. ‘Keep it for yourselves.’
Voogdt shook his head. ‘No. We don’t want more than our fair share as agreed, and, personally, I don’t want extra profits out of Cheyne’s defection.’
Ward looked pleased, but he still protested.
‘We’ve done well, and are ready to retire. You’re not: your pockets aren’t full yet. Take it. At this rate the business may collapse any day, and since you’ve been so fair with us I should like you to make your profits before the end comes.’
‘Speaking for myself,’ I said, ‘I absolutely refuse to touch Cheyne’s hundred pounds. It’s blackmail, nothing better, and though he’s a sweep, and I’m not over-particular, I draw the line somewhere.’
So there we were, at another deadlock. Neither of the others wanted the money, and for the moment it looked as though Cheyne had been bled for nothing.
‘Add it to ’Kiah’s bonuses,’ Voogdt suggested at last. ‘As for the profits of the thieving, we both wish them to be sent out and divided in the usual way;’ and after we had pressed the point a while, Ward eventually agreed.
CHAPTER XIV
OF A DIRECTORS’ MEETING
BUSINESS once concluded, Ward had a personal message to deliver. Miss Brand was at Erith, and please would we join her at dinner that evening? We thanked him, and promised to come, and then, as he had only mentioned one girl’s name, I asked if Miss Lavington was with her.
‘Not this time,’ said he. ‘She’s on duty at Snow Hill. Carwithen’s busy and wants her help.’
‘Does she take an active part in the business, then?’
I ought to have known better than ask the question, the two girls having been present at so many sittings in council. But I never really associated either of them with active work—especially such work as shipping business, and a sort of modified piracy at that. What with Pamily Brand being related to Cheyne, and Ward and Miss Lavington almost as good as engaged, I looked upon them as a sort of family party and regarded the girls’ talk as something to be listened to, for civility’s sake, but not to be considered as anything important after that—so the idea of Miss Lavington actually doing office work at Snow Hill struck me as strange.
‘Of course she does,’ said Ward. ‘We all help. Didn’t Miss Brand go through your papers once at Dartmouth?’
‘She came aboard and looked them over, certainly. But, to tell the truth, I never imagined she understood them.’
I expect I spoke awkwardly, for I couldn’t well tell him I believed she only came aboard with a view to luring me on to try to flirt with her.
‘She understands the business very well,’ Ward said, interrupting my thoughts. ‘I don’t know how we should have got along without her—and Miss Lavington. You see we couldn’t do with paid employees. The business ashore wanted intelligence, and if we’d hired quick-witted people our secret wouldn’t have been our own for very long. Cheyne and myself tried to do all of it at first, but soon found that impossible, so took in Carwithen. As a paid manager he would have been a danger; as a partner he’s been worth his weight in gold. When we got into touch with more purchasers and the busin
ess again got beyond us, it was at his suggestion that we asked the two girls if they would help us.’
‘How could they help?’ I asked curiously.
‘They did help, I can assure you. They flung themselves into the business whole-heartedly. Miss Lavington learnt to use a typewriter and took over the correspondence and book-keeping. She and Carwithen have charge of the office and most of the work inland—the actual selling to customers. I help them a little in that, the London and south and west of England sales are in my hands, and I also see to removing the consignments from the ports along the English Channel. That’s how it is you’ve seen more of me than of the others.’
‘What does Miss Brand do?’
‘Hitherto she’s had the east coast and Scotch ports in her charge. Now that the Olive Leaf and Kismet are paid off, she’s supposed to be helping at the office, but there’s really very little for her to do there with only your cargoes to watch. So she’s come down here with me as a sort of holiday trip.’
I said that Erith in March didn’t strike me as much of a place for holidaying.
‘Ah! But she’s the sort of girl that can make a holiday out of a ride on a bus. I fancy one of the attractions here was the chance of another squabble with you.’ He looked at Voogdt, with a smile. ‘By the way, when you see her don’t harp on this business of Cheyne’s. She’s partial to him. They’re related, you know—were playmates as children—so she takes this more seriously than the rest of us.’
His way of speaking was quietly frank, and seemed to put us on the footing of personal friends as well as partners. That was just the difference between him and Cheyne. The one never mentioned Pamela Brand but I wanted to kick him, even when he only meant to be affable. But when I had been an employee Ward’s manner had never held offence, and now, without gush or effusiveness, he spoke as though we were two members of the family party and had been so all along.
The Mystery of the Mud Flats Page 16