The H. Bedford-Jones Pulp Fiction Megapack

by H. Bedford-Jones

  “Hm! Your message got lost,” he reflected. “We were astonished to find you in the service. We have heard of you; Wan Shih tells me that you are a prominent officer under the Shanghai government, and high in their confidence. That is an excellent thing for us, eh? May I inquire who inducted you into the service?”

  “Schmidts, in San Francisco,” I returned promptly, “Later, at Shanghai, I received the copper tag and further details. The liaison work is superb, if I may comment upon it.”

  “It is very good,” he admitted, and rose. “Well, I am glad we have had this little heart to heart chat, Captain Breck. It was most fortunate. For the present, sir—good-night.”

  That blasted my hopes. I had expected to worm some details out of him regarding his immediate enterprise, but obviously there was nothing doing along that line. Questioning would be a perilous business, and might endanger everything.

  So I crawled back into my own room, and crept to rest. I had good cause to be content with what had taken place. From start to finish, luck had favored me amazingly. But would the luck hold?

  “It won’t, Sam, it won’t!” I warned myself. “Luck has a habit of shoving some good cards into a man’s fist, then standing back and watching how he plays ’em. Now I have the cards—watch out! Rosey is apt to draw a pat hand at any minute and when the pot is opened, there’ll be fireworks.”

  That was essentially correct, and if I had possessed any amount of horse-sense I would have known just where to look for the expected trouble.

  When I wakened, the sun was up and day had come—bright in the east, stormy and cloud-heavy in the west. I woke in the mood to reflect that this foreshadowed bad luck. Moreover, I had acquired altogether too much and too greatly important knowledge to keep it deposited in my head alone; particularly as a fragment of hot lead would easily destroy brain and knowledge together.

  Accordingly I took a leaf from my notebook and wrote out exactly what I had learned, with full credit to John Li. When I was finishing, Groot knocked at my door and asked if I were up. I reached for my belt—and made the pleasing discovery that my automatic had been carefully unloaded during the night, and my spare cartridges were gone.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” I called, and reached for my lighter weapon.

  Both were of the same caliber, and I had a spare clip hidden away. Those were only natural precautions, but it was well that I had taken them. Rosoff, it seemed, did not trust me any too far; or perhaps Wan Shih had taken those cartridges.

  When I made my appearance, Groot offered me a razor, but I declined.

  “No time for shaving, Alan; besides, I can skip a day without showing it. Where’s Mary? Is she up?”

  “Long ago, I imagine.”

  I bolted to find her. The boys were setting up breakfast, and I finally came upon Mary outside, robbing the garden of a few flowers for a table vase. Also, I saw Rosoff striding from the upper buildings, all slicked up in fresh clothes and looking like a prince.

  “Good morning!” exclaimed Mary brightly, as I joined her.

  “Same to you and many of them! May I hold your flowers?”

  I took them, and slipped the paper into her hand.

  “Get that to the military governor at Cheng-tu, if anything happens to me,” I told her rapidly. “And arrange that boat ride right away—things are worse than I thought.”

  She had no opportunity to answer, but her eyes told me enough. Rosoff joined us, with a bow and a graceful salute of the lips on Mary’s fingers. He carried it off like a musical comedy prince, too.

  But when his eyes struck me, I knew that something had happened—something bad. Those eyes were fishy. He was extremely affable, yet this first glance left me with the cold certainty that my goose had been cooked since I had parted from him in the garden. He had drawn his pat hand—somehow.

  I think that Mary Fisher felt this intuitively, for instead of leaving us together, she sent me inside with the flowers and remained to chat with Rosoff before following. Groot showed up as she brought the baron in, and we all sat down to breakfast in genial mood.

  The breakfast was excellent, and I was hungry; but I could not afford to take chances with Rosoff, particularly after what I had read in his eyes. So I watched matters closely, and ate nothing that I did not see served out of a common dish. Mary lost no time in carrying out my instructions.

  “It’s going to storm before noon, I’m afraid,” she said brightly, “and I’m going to take advantage of what sunshine we will have. There are some of the most beautiful spots along the river, close by, and I think I’ll ask Wan Shih for a boat right away. I have set my heart on getting some pictures, and if a storm comes on I’ll have plenty of time to develop the films. Uncle, will you ask Wan Shih about the boat? Send a boy please.”

  “Very good,” assented Groot at once. He turned to one of the boys and sent him off with the message, for the boats were all controlled by the temple. “I’ll go with you, my dear. I understand that half a mile down the river are the remains of a Chou shrine, which I have never taken the opportunity of examining. Gentlemen, shall we make it a party?”

  “Not for mine,” I said carelessly. This little affectation of rudeness was excellently calculated to spur Rosoff in the right place. “I’d like to look around this temple—”

  “If you don’t mind,” said Rosoff, although with some reluctance, “I will remain here also and talk with Captain Breck. One or two things have come up—”

  “I do mind!” exclaimed Mary firmly, looking from one to the other of us. “Just think, you are the first white people we’ve seen in weeks and weeks—and now when I propose a little trip on the river, you want to spoil the whole thing! This is my party, and I intend that all of us shall go! I didn’t think, Baron Rosoff, that you were so much of a savant as to neglect the wishes—”

  “Dear madam, pardon a penitent sinner!” and Rosoff laughed under her bright eyes. “Of course I shall be most happy to accompany you; for the moment, I was oppressed by serious thoughts. Your invitation honors me exceedingly.”

  I followed his lead and expressed my desire to be agreeable.

  “You are too laggard, Captain Breck,” said Mary, “so I shall punish you by making you wait and help Uncle Allan. He wants to carry along a few books to divert his mind, as usual. Baron Rosoff, shall we go down and pick a comfortable boat, and may I kodak you?”

  That tickled the baron to death. It tickled me, too, for I did not want to be alone with him just yet. Mary Fisher was one smart girl!

  CHAPTER VI

  Off!

  It was not until Mary got the flattered baron out of the way that the explanation of the whole sorry business came into my head. Then how I cursed my lack of thought!

  The wireless, of course. After talking with me, Rosoff had simply held a conversation with his superiors, and he had discovered that I was either a fraud or must be watched very closely until further advices. In these days, the secret service chap who masquerades under borrowed colors has a mighty small chance of getting away with it.

  I joined Groot, who was hastily packing a huge suitcase.

  “Nothing to it, Alan,” I said. “If we try to lug off that small trunk they’ll suspect. As it is, we’re on the ragged edge, and only Mary saved us. Take your manuscripts if you have to, but nothing else.”

  “My dear boy, are you serious?” Consternation came into his face. “Why, here is a work which has been considered absolutely lost—the Si Ho Kiu Shi of pre-Tang times—”

  “Damn your literature!” I exclaimed, exasperated beyond control. “Don’t you realize that we’re taking a desperate chance even to get outside these walls? Don’t you know that we’ve got a fight ahead of us at the very best? Put your gun in your pocket and leave this damned junk until I can get back here with a small army!”

  That shocked him into comprehension.

  “But, my dear fellow, I have no cartridges for my revolver!” In some agitation, he displayed a huge old-fashioned forty-fi
ve that had never been used. “They have disappeared—”

  “Wan Shih attended to that, and he tried to attend to mine last night,” I said curtly. “But he slipped up. Get your precious alfalfa fodder and come along. If you had half the sense Mary has, Alan, you’d have been out of here before this. Beat it!”

  He tucked his arm around a roll of manuscript and followed me outside.

  We started down the path toward the river. The clouds had rolled up black and heavy by this time, covering half the sky, but there would be sunlight for an hour yet—long enough to give Mary a show at the game she was playing.

  My one hope was to get out of sight of the temple before the row started. If we could get down this two-mile tributary to the Min river, we would be safe enough; there were police boats on the Min, and we would strike a heavy junk traffic. This quiet little two miles of tributary, however, was a rotten spot. It was just the place for piratical business to flourish, and I had no doubt that under the guidance of Wan Shih and his friends, plenty of piracy did flourish. The enormous canal and river traffic just outside the door, so to speak, has been a prey for pirates ever since the world was young, and I saw where we had a whole nest of villages to clean out in the near future.

  The Heart-resting-place was only a little hillock, and fortunately most of the river below was masked by trees. When I saw what was waiting for us, however, I’m afraid I uttered several naughty words.

  Mary and the baron had picked out a fine large river boat, upcurved at each end, with a small matting sail forward and the usual rounded grass cover amidships. The crew of three were bringing her up to the landing—so far all right. But Wan Shih had chosen to invite himself, and four priests with him, in another craft of the same enlarged-sampan type. They were going to keep a careful watch upon us, evidently.

  This put the odds pretty high, for I considered Groot useless, while Rosoff would be at my elbow. However, we greeted Wan Shih warmly and stood around chatting in pleasant guise. Everybody was on their best behavior, and Mary snapped the delighted baron and Wan Shih together. Then she snapped me and Alan, just to play no favorites. That little kodak of hers restored all my good humor, for if we did manage to get away those films would be precious objects at headquarters.

  Rosoff, catching me standing alone, walked over to me. He wasted no preliminaries.

  “Breck, Peking has no report on you.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Never mind—they’ll get me traced down soon enough. I say, baron, any chance for me to get in on the game here? You know, there are better things than money to be had as rewards.”

  My gaze was on Mary Fisher as I spoke.

  Yes, I know it was nasty work—but it was also a bold stroke to feel him out. And it succeeded. It brought out all the buried Prussian in him.

  “None of that!” he said, his voice low and vicious, “She is marked down for me!”

  “Pardon—my mistake,” I answered coolly enough. We understood each other perfectly, and I had the answer I sought. Groot joined us at this instant, and we started aboard the boat.

  Rosoff handed down Mary. He was a handsome devil as he stood there smiling at her, no hint of his black soul showing in his face! My hand itched for the trigger; but I had no notion of putting a bullet into him unless it were necessary. I knew what would hurt him far worse than any bullet.

  So he had marked down Mary Fisher! That made all my guesswork fit together excellently. Groot would be shot, and Mary would vanish. I wondered how many other girls the baron had to his account; plenty, no doubt. A man of that type is like a predatory tiger, like the man-slayer who lusts only for blood of the kill.

  At Mary’s suggestion, the rounded grass cover of our boat was lifted off from amidships and dumped on the landing. This left us all with a clear view, and we had plenty of room. The three river-men hoisted the sail, two of them squatted in the bow and the third came aft to the tiller, and we shot out from the landing. There was a fair breeze from the south, although the heavy cloud-masses were piling up steadily from the west in big thunderheads. The river was about fifty yards wide, but broadened out below us.

  The other boat came along quickly, for Wan Shih knew what he was doing, and drew alongside. We rippled downstream, everybody talking and laughing, and presently Wan Shih began giving a lecture upon the history and so forth of the shores. We drew in to a beautiful little nook that had been a favorite retreat of some ancient emperor, and ran down the sails. Mary snapped the place and we drifted on with the stream.

  Meantime, I had my eye on that sail up forward. It had only a single halyard that I could see, and was a primitive affair. Rosoff and Groot were sitting amidships with Mary, while I was in the stern.

  Half an hour passed. We floated with the current, Wan Shih keeping up a more or less steady flow of talk, and a pleasant time was had by all, as the small-town papers say. The farther we got from the temple, the better pleased I was. The clouds were creeping up rapidly, however, and after, a bit Rosoff suggested that we had better head for home.

  “Oh, there’s one place more—just around the next bend!” Mary gave me a glance, and I knew that she was playing her last card. After this, it was up to me. “I’ve saved two films especially for it! You know, Wan Shih—the beach and grotto where all the narcissus plants twine among the stones like snakes!”

  Wan Shih nodded and flung a word to the boatmen. All together, his boat had eight men aboard, and our crew numbered three. I caught Groot’s eye, and beckoned.

  Leaving Rosoff entertained by Mary, Alan Groot joined me and gave me the match for my pipe that I requested. The poor chap looked strained and desperate. I was standing beside the man at the tiller, a brawny river-man who knew no word of English, naturally.

  “See here, Alan,” I said quietly, “when the fuss starts, you scramble up for’ard and get the sail up. The halyard’s beside that chap on the right, get it? You let everything else drop and shove up that sail.”

  His eyes widened on me.

  “But, my boy, the two men there!”

  I chuckled. “Don’t worry. They won’t be there when I start to work. But unless we get away from that other boat, it’s good night!”

  He went back, and crawled up to the bow, where he remained.

  We swept around a bend. Directly ahead of us, the river widened a good bit. On the right was the place to which Mary had referred—a charming little spot overhung with ancient trees and boasting lilies which curled upward from among mossy rocks. Wan Shih informed us about it, but I was not paying attention to historical details at the moment.

  “Make haste with your pictures!” warned the baron. “The sun is going fast!”

  Mary stood up and snapped the scene as we drifted in, one of the men up forward poling us. The western sky was a black mass now, and as the sun went out of sight under the clouds, a little gust of colder air came along.

  “We bette’ go ve’y quick!” cried Wan Shih, and barked at the boatmen. I pocketed my pipe.

  The two boats headed about. The wind came in another gust from the south—it would shift around to the westward presently, under the pressure of the clouding currents above. There was no time to lose, and I leaned forward.

  “Have you a cigarette to spare, baron?” Rosoff was playing the polite gentleman in front of Mary. Since I made no move to rise, he got up and came aft, bringing out his cigarette case and proffering it to me. I selected a cigarette with my left hand.

  Now, when you are offering a man a cigarette, you naturally watch him take it. Rosoff did just that—watched me pick out the cigarette. Consequently, he did not observe what my right hand was doing. I thanked him, he put back the cigarette case in his pocket and turned to go; and I caught him as he turned. I belted him with the automatic in my right hand, and the front sight raked into his skull; clear to the bone. I could hear it grit, and was even afraid lest I had struck too hard.

  Rosoff toppled forward. Before he hit the deck, I landed my left elbow amidships of the helmsm
an just behind me, and then gave him the automatic over the head as he doubled up. He went overboard.

  I had planned these two blows with great nicety, and the affair went off like clockwork. It was over in a flash; and before Wan Shin’s crowd had even let out a yell, I got in the first shot and dropped one of the two men in the bow. The other looked around at me, and then jumped for it.

  The boat was mine.

  “Jump, Alan!” I yelled at Groot. I tried a shot at Wan Shih, but missed him. His boat was coming about, not thirty feet away, and she had great commotion aboard.

  Groot scrambled for the halyard, got it and heaved. The sail rose, and Groot stood there not knowing what to do with the halyard.

  “Hold it!” I sang out. “Mary, come here and steer!”

  She was beside me instantly, and I gave her my small automatic. Then I went forward at a leap and grabbed the halyard from Alan’s hand. We were moving already. I got the line made fast, and stood up.

  It was at this instant that Rosoff shot me in the back.

  CHAPTER VII

  We Win—To Lose

  Most unhappily, I had not allowed for solid ivory when I hit Rosoff, although I should have reflected that any German-Russ would naturally have a thick head. Instead of killing him as I had feared, the blow had only scotched him momentarily.

  He lay there in the bottom of the boat, his hand lifted, the smoke still curling from his pistol. Mary was helpless, for a gust had caught the boat and the helm was nearly shoving her overboard.

  Even at this moment of crisis, I was set on not killing Rosoff. I could have done so easily enough. He was frightfully unsteady and was trying to control himself for the finishing shot. My own automatic leaped out as I saw his finger flex on the trigger, and my shot went home. His arm jerked violently and the pistol dropped. He lay staring at the shattered, red-smeared thing that had been his hand.