CHAPTER XXIII.
FALLING OUT.
"Is it they?" asked Amaryllis
"Two to one on," he answered.
"Next compartment?"
"Yes."
"Did they see us get in?"
"No."
"Then how can they know?"
"They saw the car outside, and the porter shutting this door. If theyhadn't, they'd have bundled in right opposite the entrance, instead ofrunning down the train," reasoned Dick.
"Will they try to come in here, then?" she asked.
"There's no corridor," said Dick.
"But outside? There was a murder--I read about it----"
"Take it easy, little wonder," he answered, with a smile which made ofhis patronage a tribute. "I haven't got this far to crack in the lastlap. I'm thinking out a pretty story for the _Sunday Magazine_; so nomurders, please. They make me nervous. We're all right for a bit--nextstation's fifteen miles ahead. They're getting their wind next door, andtalking it over."
He rose, and lifting Melchard's legs, made him lie at full length alongthe seat farthest from the engine and the motor-cyclists. Next, he drewdown the little corner-blinds of each window, leaving the door-blindsup; then sat down again resuming his attitude of abstraction.
In the silence which followed Amaryllis watched him until confidencecrept into her unawares, and she found herself becoming sleepilyinterested in smaller matters than life and death. She did not believeany longer that anyone could prevail against "Limping Dick."
She smiled to herself over the strange figure he cut, forgetting herown.
His bulging pockets amused her into trying to remember all the things hehad stowed away in them.
The newest seemed to be an oily piece of cotton rag, sticking out fromthe side pocket of his Norfolk jacket, which looked already, since shehad seen it first, three years older.
At last she spoke.
"Is the little plot finished?" she asked.
"Very nearly," he replied
"And is it decorous in episode, cheerful in tone, and forcible in moraltendency?"
"All these it is, and more."
"Then--please, sir, I have a question to ask."
"Ask, maiden," said Dick.
"I want to know why you keep that filthy cloth in your pocket."
"And why this sudden curiosity about a trifle?" His hand felt the thingas if he had forgotten it.
"Because," said Amaryllis, "I can't possibly sit closer to you if youdon't throw it away."
Dick rose, taking the bundle carefully from his pocket.
"It's a curio--a relic. I'll show it you some day," he said, laying itin a corner of the rack.
"Not now?"
"Not now."
And then there came over his face an expression of mixed humour andtriumph.
"By the bloomin' idol made of mud!" he cried, "you've given me theclimax. It makes the story more moral than ever."
And he murmured, as if only for himself: "Which side, O Bud! Whichside?"
A little later he put up both windows.
"It'll be awfully hot," said Amaryllis.
"Let's be absolutely silent for a bit," said Dick. "With our ears to thepartition, we might hear something."
With intense concentration, they listened for several minutes.
"It's no good," said Dick at last. "Talking, talking all the time, butthe train makes too much row, and the padding's too thick."
"I heard something," said the girl. "Not words--but the different tonesof two voices, arguing. One wants to do something, and the otherdoesn't. He's afraid, I think."
"M'm!" grunted Dick.
"The brave one's here--with his back to me. He's strong and heavy, Ithink, because his voice is growly, and he sits back hard now and then,and I can feel the partition bulge a little. And then--he keeps fiddlingwith something that clicks."
"Clicks? How? Like the hammer of an empty gun?" asked Dick, puzzled.
The girl leaned forward and touched the spring lock of the carriagedoor.
"No. Heavier than a pistol. Clicky and thumpy, like this lock if youpull it and let go."
Dick's face beamed with satisfaction.
"Don't touch it--I know," he said. "I suppose you'll be wanting half theproceeds, and your name as part author."
"What on earth d'you mean, Dick?"
"Collaboration. You've completed the plot."
He changed his seat to face her from the opposite corner; looked at hiswatch, and thereafter gazed steadily from the window with down-bent eyesfor so long that Amaryllis grew bored and nervous.
"Two minutes to do a mile," he said at last, having again looked at hiswatch. "It's fifteen minutes since we left Harthborough--seven miles anda half. That's another seven and a half to go--Todsmoor's the station, Ithink. They'll try it on within five minutes, or give it up. What didyou do with that snoring beast's automatic?"
Amaryllis thrust her hand deep into the Brundage pocket, rummaging.
"What an awful pouch!" he exclaimed.
"It is a bottomless pit, certainly. But it's much discreeter than yoursare, Dick. They bulge so interestingly, and make you an awfuller sightthan all the rest of your funny things together," she replied, laughingat him.
Successful at last, she produced the Browning pistol which Melchard hadsurrendered on the Roman road. "But it bumped horribly when Iwalked--and it _would_ always knock the same place on my knee. Oh, Dick,shall we ever get into clothes that'll feel nice again?"
"To-night, damsel, shalt thou sleep in fine linen, and to-morrow, so itplease you, shalt fare homeward in thy father's chariot, leaving in thatprogress a ravaged Marshall and Snelgrove, an eviscerated Lewis, and thehouse of Harrod but a warehouse of mourning."
Softly he let down both windows, fearing glass little less than bullets.
"Sit there," he said, pointing to the corner opposite to Melchard'shead; and, when she was seated, gave her back the pistol.
"If anything comes, cover it with that."
"But, Dick--," she faltered, "I know I'm silly, but I--I don't want tokill anybody. I'm afraid."
"P'r'aps they'll funk it. But I've an idea they're more afraid ofhim--if they know we've got him--than of us." He glanced at Melchard,and then out of the window.
The train was running on an embankment with steep, grassy sides--not ahouse nor a highway in sight.
"This side would be safer to fall from," said Dick. "On yours it's thedown-line rails. Tails up, dear! In three minutes it'll be over or off.Don't shoot--only show you're heeled, and look fierce."
He reached for the oily cloth in the rack. Catching her fascinated eyesfixed on him:
"Watch the window, will you," he snapped; and a sting of indignation atbeing so addressed gave Amaryllis the stimulant she needed.
It should be obedience now, but a royal exhibition of displeasureafterwards!
So, with the mouth and eyes of a goddess incensed, Amaryllis watched, inlofty silence, her rectangle of sunlight.
But from the preparations of Dick Bellamy dignity was altogether absent.
From the dirty cloth he unwrapped Mut-mut's baag-nouk, slipped his righthand into its straps and rings, and sank to his knees on the floor ofthe carriage, facing the door and its open, unblinded window.
Leaning to his right, he lifted the corner blind away, bringing his leftcheek against the glass; and from this spy-hole kept that eye on thepoint where the door of the next compartment should just show itself,were it opened at right-angles to the train in letting a man creep outupon the footboard.
And then, as he waited, came a dreadful thought: the door on this sideof the compartment, the train running on the left-hand track, washinged, of course, upon its forward jamb, and must therefore be passed,by one creeping from the direction of the engine, before it could beopened so as to give entrance. On the other side the position wasreversed.
Might not this advantage of the door defended only by the girl have beennoted by the men on the other side of that partitio
n?
And she? Her back was to the engine and her corner blind pulled down.She would see nothing till her door began to open; and even had shenerve for killing, she could not shoot; for, in pity of her white hands,he had fixed the safety-catch of Melchard's gun.
He pictured the moment's wavering, and a struggle, ending, perhaps, in adouble fall from the train.
While still his eye was steady at the loophole, his mind reached thedecision to change his dispositions. But before he could move to risethe black, upright line of the enemy's door swung slowly into his fieldof vision. His position at the window gave him a bare inch to see it in,but the sight lifted his fighting soul into the heaven of certainsuccess.
Still watching, he saw that the door's edge remained steady, fixed, heargued, by the hand of the man that watched his companion, too low forDick's line of sight, handing himself along by the brass rail, nearerand nearer.
While that door was held, Amaryllis was safe.
Dick sank back upon his haunches, bowing his bare head to bring it belowthe level of the open window.
There followed a stillness of waiting--stillness wrapped in the roar ofthe train.
A brushing sound on the door's window-ledge!
Throwing his head backwards, Dick saw, without raising his head, thick,dirty fingers on the split sill.
Lightly he touched them with his left hand. A head came in sight, risingdiagonally across the frame it entered; and as it rose, so rose Dick'sright hand, showing the steel blades of the Tiger's Claw.
The white face was jerked backward, the black-nailed fingers lost hold,and with a choked scream the whole body fell outward from the train,describing a curve towards the rear which just carried it free of theballast, to land sideways on the turf of the slope, and roll.
The bank was high and steep, and the body was still rolling, when Dickturned his head to the sound of a door closing. His remaining enemy hadshut himself in.
"Got 'em both," he said, facing Amaryllis, and dropping his greasyparcel once more in the rack.
"What's happened? Oh, that horrid scream!" she said, shaking.
"Your brave villain's taken a toss, darling," said Dick, sitting with anarm round her. "And the white-livered accomplice is dithering with funkin there." And he thumped the cushion of the partition. "We shall pullup at Todsmoor in a few minutes. Let's compose ourselves. You must beasleep in your corner----"
He broke off, eyeing her face keenly; then finished his sentencetenderly with an "if you please, my dear."
The girl blushed gloriously.
"I hurt its tender feelings, didn't I, when I barked?"
"Yes--for a moment. But it--it made me so angry, Dick, that I forgot tobe frightened. You're so clever! I believe you did it on purpose forthat." And, when he smiled at her, "I won't forgive you, then," shemurmured. "I'll just say thank you instead."
She kissed him.
There came a groan and a heavy sigh from Melchard.
"No, he's not awake, nor near it," said Dick, when he had examined hispatient. "But I'd better give him another dose. There's going to be funat Todsmoor, and I don't want any Millsborough back-talk mixed up withit. Look out of that window while I physic him. It's not nice to watch."
It was nasty enough to hear, thought Amaryllis.
By the time it was over the train was slowing down. Before it stoppedDick was out on the platform, and in two strides had caught the guard.
"There's been an accident. Man fell out of this carriage--next to mine,"he said, in a low voice, speaking now in the assured tones of agentleman accustomed to obedience. "Don't make a fuss. Fetch thestation-master."
The bearded autocrat hesitated, eyeing this strange figure with the"officer's swank," as he called it afterwards.
"I advise you to hurry," said Dick, his eyes opening a little wider.
The autocrat took the advice, and returned with another.
Dick was standing with his hand on the door of the compartment with onetraveller--the remaining motor-cyclist.
"Look here, station-master," he said, beginning before the man couldopen his mouth; "I don't want to leave you with a nasty job like this onyour hands, without telling you what I know. I am Major Richard Bellamyof the R.A.F. Never mind my clothes. Take it I've been celebrating. AtHarthborough I got into the next compartment with a lady, and a man Ihave befriended. I am looking after him. He'll be all right to-morrow.Just as we left--the train had actually started--two fellows in overallsjumped into _this_ compartment. Half-way between this and Harthboroughwe heard a row going on--the lady and I. It got worse and worse, and Ilooked out of the window just in time to see one of the pair fall outbackwards."
Here Dick looked at his watch.
"Twelve minutes ago, it was. I took the time then. He hit the grass bankand rolled. Shouldn't wonder if he's all right. Probably alive, anyhow."
"Why didn't you pull the communication cord?" asked the station-master,pompously stern.
Now Dick had forgotten the communication cord. But it would have beenimpossible for him to forget a few things he had once learned aboutrailways.
He glanced at the guard, and found uneasiness in his eye.
"It's a slip carriage," he said, smiling, tolerantly superior. "Was theconnection made?" he asked, looking hard in the guard's face.
The man flushed an awkward red. "No," he said. "'Tain't worth thetrouble for the little bit of a journey before we slip her."
"H'm!" said the station-master.
"Just so," said Dick, simultaneously. "So perhaps it'd be just as wellfor me not to have thought of the communication cord, eh?"
The station-master said nothing. But the guard looked as if there weregratitude in him somewhere.
"If the poor beggar's alive, he'll have gained by our not stopping,because he'll get a doctor and a stretcher all the quicker," Dick wenton. "Now, I advise you to hold the fellow in this compartment here foryour local police. Look at him. He's sat there like that ever since weran in here. You can see he was in no hurry to give informationconcerning what had happened to his friend."
The station-master turned to the guard.
"Did you see anything?" he asked.
"No. But I heard a door bang. I looked out, but I heard nothing. Thegentleman's quite right, though, about the two chaps scrambling in as wepulled out of Harthborough."
The station-master turned to Dick with a face diffidently serious.
"I'm afraid you ought to wait here, sir," he said.
"I know I ought not. Duty's duty, and you can't keep me, my goodfellow," replied Dick, dredging the breast pocket of his coat andproducing and opening his cigarette-case. "Here's my card. The addresswill always find me."
The station-master looked at the card, hesitating still, and turning itabout in his fingers.
"I can uncouple the through carriage," he said.
"And I can move my party to another," Dick blandly retorted. "And you'llonly inconvenience everybody up the line that meant to use it. See here,man; I'm witness of what was possibly an accident. I give you theinformation, and add my private opinion that it was something worse thanan accident. That's all. It's up to you to put your police on the job,not to disturb a traveller that wasn't even in the man's compartment.Ask this fellow here, who _was_ in it. Most likely he's got no ticket,running it fine as they did at Harthborough. That'll give you reasonenough to make him miss the train while one of your men's fetching aconstable. And the constable won't let him out of sight till you'vefound the other man, alive or dead. But he won't object to waiting,unless he wants to rouse suspicion. Now I do object." And here Dicklaughed. "Why," he went on, "with your way of doing things, they'd haveto arrest a hundred witnesses every time a lorry ran into a lamp-post."
And he stood by, lighting his pipe, while the station-master attemptedto extract information from the man in overalls.
He proved docile enough; mumbled a halting tale of dozing in his cornerwhen his friend, leaning from the window, had been launched from thetrain by the sudden
opening of the door. Supposed it hadn't beenproperly latched; his friend had been fooling with the lock a fewminutes before. No, there'd been no words--not to say quarrel; they'dtalked a bit--nothing more. Oh, yes, of course he'd get out and waitover, and do his bit to help 'em find his chum--poor, silly blighter!
The man cast one sly side-glance at Dick, and thought he was not beingwatched.
But Dick saw, and gathered from that one flash of the eye that this wasPepe's "Heberto, the London man," and that 'Erb was not even yet surewhether this was or was not the wild man who had leapt upon him from thestairs in the hall at "The Myrtles," eight or nine hours ago.
As the train ran out of Todsmoor, "I shouldn't wonder," said Dickcomfortably to Amaryllis, "if that's the last fence, and a straight runhome for us."
But there was fear as well as disgust in the glance which Amaryllisthrew at the gross slumber of their prisoner.
She had felt his power stretched over half a county, and who should fixits limit for her?
But she merely said:
"What time do we get to King's Cross, Dick?"
"Ten-thirty--on paper; but we're twenty minutes late already."
"Then--what'm I going to do then? Eleven o'clock, and me so tired!"
"You'll be all right. I'll see that you are," said Dick.
Apparently satisfied by this pledge, Amaryllis had almost fallen asleepin her corner, now the furthest from Melchard, when Dick said:
"What you want to-night, my prize-packet, is a fairy godmother."
"She would save lots of trouble," admitted Amaryllis.
"And all you've got is that mildewed chaperon, snoring there."
Amaryllis shuddered.
"I don't know even yet," she said, "why you brought it--a thing youmight have left tied in a bundle by the roadside. He's only beendangerous and disgusting. And you said----"
"Said it wasn't to take it out of him that I did it. Did I? If I did,it's right."
There was a silence.
"I suppose you could guess," said Dick, breaking it.
"Was it because you thought of the harm that he does, making drugs andselling them to sad people and bad people, Dick?"
"That might have been a good reason. It's not my line, though--if I'm onoath."
"Oh, but you're not, Dick. You needn't say anything unless you want totell me."
"I do. That reason wasn't mine. I don't feel like that about people inthe lump. And now they say _the_ people is free and democratic--doingthings, you know, off its own bat, when it hasn't a cat's notion ofcricket--now I think, as far as I think about the lump at all, that it'dbetter have a fair run at its own game. Result may be anything; might bea new and a good one. But I simply hate seeing the old professionalgroundsman pretending that the new mob of boys likes cricket, andsweating himself all for nothing.
"As for the drug business, it cures in the end by killing, andgrandmotherly legislation belongs to dear old tyranny; and I'm not atall sure, if five-eighths of the people said that the rest mustn't killpigs to eat 'm, that you and I would be wrong to have an illicit rasherwhen we could get it. Anyhow, the immoral remnant of the nation doesn'ttrouble my dreams. It rubs itself out in the end. So, you see, it wasn'tthe dope evil that made me bind him in the chains of tangle-foot andforce his putrid company on an angel. Guess again."
"I'm too tired," said Amaryllis "to have a guess left in me. Tell me."
"My dear," he answered, "the cherry's always been bigger than the bunchto me. You are just the greatest, and the roundest and the reddest, andthe sweetest cherry on the big tree. And the cherry nearest to you----"
"My dad?" she asked, interrupting with a catch of the breath.
He nodded.
"Yes," he said. "It was for him I took the dope from that scentedape--because he'd have been hurt if it'd got loose to ravage the world.And when I got the chance I just pouched the ape too for the samereason--so that the man that cursed you shall not only feel that hispatent curse hasn't done any damage, but has even helped to chain up alot of rival plagues. These men of science are like benevolent Jupiters:Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday colloguing with Vulcan to forge heavierand sharper thunderbolts; Thursday, Friday and Saturday conferringanxiously with all Olympus as to how they shall be blunted andlightened, lest they hurt poor mortal fools too much.
"This chap Melchard, properly handled, will give the show away, and theLeague of Nations or some other comic crowd'll corral the lot."
"What lot?" asked Amaryllis.
"The crew your father told us about. My dear, I wanted to please you bypleasing him. To do it I had to let you run a shade more risk and endurea lot more discomfort. Was that--was it----"
For once Dick Bellamy could not find his words. Yet his eyes, it seemedto Amaryllis, were hardened--stabbing hers with steel points barbed withcuriosity.
She knew what he meant, and said so.
"Of course it was nothing against me--against love," she answered. "Itwas just the hook, dear, that's going to hold this fish for ever."
When they had expressed the inexpressible and explained the obvious, hereturned to that fish-hook phrase of hers.
"What made you put it like that, young woman?" he asked.
"Your eyes, Dick. For a moment you were afraid, wondering whether Ishould toe the line exactly. Your eyes got hard. They stabbed right intome, and they had a sort of backward wings, like fish-hooks--father's gota horrid arrow like that--won't come out again without tearing. Yourswon't ever, Dick."