The Bandbox

by Louis Joseph Vance

  XVI

  NINETY MINUTES

  Commandeering Alison's taxicab with the promise of an extra tip, Staffjumped in and shut the door. As they swung into Fourth Avenue, he caughta glimpse of Ismay's slight figure standing on the corner, his poseexpressive of indecision and uncertainty; and Staff smiled to himself,surmising that it was there that the thief had left his motor-car to beconfiscated by Iff.

  Three blocks north on Fourth Avenue, and they swung west intoThirty-third Street: a short course quickly covered, but yet not swiftlyenough to outpace Staff's impatience. He had the door open, his foot onthe step, before the taxicab had begun to slow down preparatory tostopping beside the car waiting in the shadow of the big hotel.

  Iff was in the tonneau, gesticulating impatiently; the chauffeur hadalready cranked up and was sliding into his seat. As the taxicab rolledalongside, Staff jumped, thrust double the amount registered by themeter into the driver's hand, and sprang into the body of Ismay's car.Iff snapped the door shut; as though set in motion by that sharp sound,the machine began to move smoothly and smartly, gathering momentum withevery revolution of its wheels. They were crossing Madison almost beforeStaff had settled into his seat. A moment later they were snoring upFifth Avenue.

  Staff looked at his watch. "Ten," he told Iff.

  "We'll make time once we get clear of this island," said the little mananxiously; "we've got to."

  "Why?"

  "To beat Ismay--"

  Staff checked him with a hand on his arm and a warning glance at theback of the chauffeur's head.

  "Oh, that's all right _now_," Iff told him placidly. "I thought wemight 's well understand one another first as last; so, while we werewaiting for you, I slipped him fifty, gave him to understand that myaffectionate cousin had about come to the end of his rope and--won hisheart and confidence. It's a way I have with people; they do seem tofall for me," he asserted with insufferable self-complacence.

  He continued to impart his purchased information to Staff by snatchesall the way from Thirty-fourth Street to the Harlem River.

  "He's a decent sort," he said, indicating the operator with a nod;"apparently, that is; name, Spelvin. Employed by a garage upon the WestSide, in the Seventies. Says Ismay rang 'em up about half-past two lastnight, chartered this car and driver, to be kept waiting for himwhenever he called for it.... Coarse work that, for CousinArbuthnot--very, very crude....

  "Still, he'd just got home and hadn't had time to make very polishedarrangements.... Seems he told this chap he was to see nothing but theroad, hear nothing but the motor, say nothing whatever to nobody. Gavehim a fifty, too. That habit seems to run in the family....

  "He called for the car around five o'clock, with Nelly. Spelvin says sheseemed worn out, hardly conscious of what was going on. They lit outfor--where we're bound: place on the Connecticut shore called PennymintPoint. On the way Ismay told him to stop at a roadhouse, got out andbrought Nelly a drink. Spelvin says he wouldn't be surprised if it wasdoped; she slept all the rest of the way and hardly woke up even whenthey helped her aboard the boat."

  "Boat!"

  "Motor-boat. I infer that Cousin Arbuthnot has established headquarterson a little two-by-four island in the Sound--Wreck Island. Used to berun as a one-horse summer resort--hotel and all that. Went under severalyears ago, if mem'ry serveth me aright. Anyhow, they loaded Nelly aboardthis motor-boat and took her across....

  "Spelvin was told to wait. He did. In about an hour--boat back; nativerunning it hands Spelvin a note, tells him to run up to Hartford andpost it and be back at seven P.M. Spelvin back at seven; Ismay comesacross by boat, is driven to town....

  "That's all, to date. Spelvin had begun to suspect there was somethingcrooked going on, which made him easy meat for my insidious advances.Says he was wondering if he hadn't better tell his troubles to a cop.All of which goes to show that Cousin Artie's fast going to seed. Verycrude operating--man of his reputation, too. Makes me almost ashamed ofthe relationship."

  "How are we going to get to Wreck Island from Pennymint Point?"

  "Same boat," said Iff confidently. "Spelvin heard Ismay tell hisengineer to wait for him--would be back between midnight and three."

  "He can't beat us there, can he, by any chance?"

  "He can if he humps himself. This is a pretty good car, and Spelvin saysthere isn't going to be any car on the road tonight that'll pass us;but I can't forget that dear old New York, New Haven & Hartford. Theyrun some fast trains by night, and while of course none of them stops atPennymint Centre--station for the Point--still, a man with plenty ofmoney to fling around can get a whole lot of courtesy out of arailroad."

  "Then the question is: can he catch a train which passes throughPennymint Centre before we can reasonably expect to get there?"

  "That's the intelligent query. I don't know. Do you?"

  "No--"

  "Spelvin doesn't, and we haven't got any time to waste trying to findout. Probabilities are, there is. The only thing to do is to run for itand trust to luck. Spelvin says it took him an hour and thirty-fiveminutes to run in, this evening; and he's going to better that ifnothing happens. Did you remember to bring a gun?"

  "Two." Staff produced the pistol he had taken from Ismay, with the extraclips, and gave them to the little man with an account of how he hadbecome possessed of them--a narrative which Iff seemed to enjoyimmensely.

  "Oh, we can't lose," he chuckled; "not when Cousin Artie plays his handas poorly as he has this deal. I've got a perfectly sound hunch thatwe'll win."

  Staff hardly shared his confidence; still, as far as he could judge, theodds were even. Ismay might beat them to Pennymint Centre by train, andmight not. If he did, however, it could not be by more than a slightmargin; to balance which fact, Staff had to remind himself that twominutes' margin was all that would be required to get the boat away fromland, beyond their reach.

  "Look here," he put it to Iff: "suppose he does beat us to that boat?"

  "Then we'll have to find another."

  "There'll be another handy, all ready for us, I presume?"

  "Spare me your sarcasm," pleaded Iff; "it is, if you don't mind mymentioning the fact, not your forte. Silence, on the other hand, suitsyour style cunningly. So shut up and lemme think."

  He relapsed into profound meditations, while the car hummed onwardsthrough the moon-drenched spaces of the night.

  Presently he roused and, without warning, clambered over the back of theseat into the place beside the chauffeur. For a time the two conferred,heads together, their words indistinguishable in the sweep of air.Then, in the same spry fashion, the little man returned.

  "Spelvin's a treasure," he announced, settling into his place.

  "Why?"

  "Knows the country--knows a man in Barmouth who runs a shipyard, ownsand hires out motorboats, and all that sort of thing."

  "Where's Barmouth?"

  "Four miles this side of Pennymint Point. Now we've got to decidewhether to hold on and run our chances of picking up Ismay's boat, orturn off to Barmouth and run our chances of finding chauffeur's friendwith boat disengaged. What do you think?"

  "Barmouth," Staff decided after some deliberation but not withoutmisgivings.

  "That's what I told Spelvin," observed Iff. "It's a gamble either way."

  The city was now well behind them, the car pounding steadily on throughWestchester. For a long time neither spoke. The time for talk, indeed,was past--and in the future; for the present they must tune themselvesup to action--such action as the furious onrush of the powerful car insome measure typified, easing the impatience in their hearts.

  For a time the road held them near railroad tracks. A train hurtledpast them, running eastwards: a roaring streak of orange light crashingthrough the world of cool night blues and purple-blacks.

  The chauffeur swore audibly and let out another notch of speed.

  Staff sat spellbound by the amazing romance of it all.... A bare eightdays since that afternoon when a whim, born of a love
now lifeless, hadstirred him out of his solitary, work-a-day life in London, had liftedhim out of the ordered security of the centre of the world'scivilisation and sent him whirling dizzily across three thousand milesand more to become a partner in this wild, weird ride to the rescue of adamsel in distress and durance vile! Incredible!...

  Eight days: and the sun of Alison, that once he had thought to be thelight of all the world, had set; while in the evening sky the star ofEleanor was rising and blazing ever more brightly....

  Now when a man begins to think about himself and his heart in suchpoetic imagery, the need for human intercourse grows imperative on hisunderstanding; he must talk or--suffer severely.

  Staff turned upon his defenseless companion.

  "Iff," said he, "when a man's the sort of a man who can fall out of loveand in again--with another woman, of course--inside a week--what do youcall him?"

  "Human," announced Iff after mature consideration of the problem.

  This was unsatisfactory; Staff yearned to be called fickle.

  "Human? How's that?" he insisted.

  "I mean that the human man hasn't got much to say about falling in orout of love. The women take care of all that for him. Look at your MissLandis--yours as was.... You don't mind my buttin' in?"

  "Go on," said Staff grimly.

  "Anybody with half an eye, always excepting you, could see she'd made upher mind to hook that Arkroyd pinhead on account of his money. She wasjust waiting for a fair chance to give you the office--preferably, ofcourse, after she'd nailed that play of yours."

  "Well," said Staff, "she's lost that, too."

  "Serves you both right."

  There was a pause wherein Staff sought to fathom the meaning of thislast utterance of Mr. Iff's.

  "I take it," resumed the latter with a sidelong look--"pardon a father'sfeelings of delicacy--I take it, you're meaning Nelly?"

  "How did you guess that?" demanded Staff, startled.

  "Right, eh?"

  "Yes--no--I don't know--"

  "Well, if you don't know the answer any better 'n that, take a word ofadvice from an old bird: you get her to tell you. She's known it eversince she laid eyes on you."

  "You mean she--I--" Staff stammered eagerly.

  "I mean nobody knows anything about a woman's heart but herself; but sheknows it backwards and all the time."

  "Then you don't think I've got any show?"

  "Oh, Lord!" complained Iff. "Honest, you gimme a pain. Go on and do yourown thinking."

  Staff subsided, imagining a vain thing: that the mantle of dignity inwhich he wrapped himself successfully cloaked his sense of injury. Iffsmiled a meaningless smile up at the inscrutable skies. And the moonlitmiles slipped beneath the wheels like a torrent of moulten silver.

  At length--it seemed as if many hours must have swung crashing intoeternity since they had left New York--Staff was conscious of aperceptible diminution of speed; he was able to get his breath with lesseffort, had no longer to snatch it by main strength from the greedyclutches of the whirlwind. The reeling chiaroscuro of the countrysideseemed suddenly to become calm, settling into an intelligible, more orless orderly arrangement of shining hills and shadowed hollows,spreading pastures and sombre woodlands. The chauffeur flung a fewinarticulate words over his shoulder--readily interpreted as announcingthe nearness of their destination; and of a sudden the car swung fromthe main highway into a narrow by-road that ran off to the right. Alittle later they darted through a cut beneath railroad tracks, and avillage sprang out of the night and rattled past them, serenelyslumbrous. From this centre a thin trickle of dwellings straggled alongtheir way. Across fields to the left, Staff caught glimpses of aspreading sheet of water, still and silvery-grey....

  On a long slant, the road drew nearer and more near to the shores ofthis arm of the Sound. Presently a group of small buildings near thehead of a long landing-stage swam into view. Before them the car drew upwith a sigh. The chauffeur jumped down and ran across the road to ahouse in whose lower story a lighted window was visible. While hehammered at the door, Staff and Iff alighted. A man in his shirt-sleevescame to the door of the cottage and stood there, pipe in mouth, hands inpockets, languidly interjecting dispassionate responses into thechauffeur's animated exposition of their case. As Staff and Iff came up,Spelvin turned to them, excitedly waving his gauntlets.

  "He's got a boat, all right, and a good one he says, but he won't move afoot for less 'n twenty dollars."

  "Give you twenty-five if you get away from the dock within fiveminutes," Iff told the boatbuilder directly.

  The man started as if stung. "Jemima!" he breathed, incredulous. Thencaution prompted him to extend a calloused and work-warped hand. "Crossmy palm," he said.

  "You give it to him, Staff," said Iff magnificently. "I'm short ofcash."

  Obediently, Staff disbursed the required sum. The native thumbed it,pocketed it, lifted his coat from a nail behind the door and startedacross the road in a single movement.

  "You come 'long, Spelvin," he said in passing, "'nd help with the boat.If you gents'll get out on the dock I'll have her alongside in threeminutes, 'r my name ain't Bascom."

  Pursued by the chauffeur, he disappeared into the huddle of boat-housesand beached and careened boats. A moment later, Iff and Staff, pickingtheir way through the tangle, heard the scrape of a flat-bottomed boaton the beach and, subsequently, splashing oars.

  By the time they had reached the end of the dock, the boatbuilder andhis companion were scrambling aboard a twenty-five-foot boat at anchorin the midst of a small fleet of sail and gasoline craft. The rumble ofa motor followed almost instantly, was silenced momentarily while theskiff was being made fast to the mooring, broke out again as the largerboat selected a serpentine path through the circumjacent vessels andslipped up to the dock.

  Before it had lost way, Iff and Staff were aboard. Instantly, Bascomsnapped the switch shut and the motor started again on the spark.

  "Straight out," he instructed Spelvin at the wheel, "till you round thatwhite moorin'-dolphin. Then I'll take her." ...

  Not long afterward he gave up pottering round the engine and wentforward, relieving Spelvin. "You go back and keep your eye on thatengyne," he ordered; "she's workin' like a sewin'-machine, but she wantswatchin'. I'll tell you when to give her the spark. Meanwhile youmight 's well dig them lights out of the port locker and set 'em out."

  "No," Iff put in. "We want no lights."

  "Gov'mint regulations," said Bascom stubbornly. "Must carry lights."

  "Five dollars?" Iff argued persuasively.

  "Agin the law," growled Bascom. "But--I dunno--they ain't anybody likelyto be out this time o' night. Cross my palm."

  And Staff again disbursed.

  The white mooring-buoy swam past and the little vessel heeled as Bascomswung her sharply to the southwards.

  "Now," he told Spelvin, "advance that spark all you've a mind to."

  There was a click from the engine-pit and the steady rumble of theexhaust ran suddenly into a prolonged whining drone. The boat jumped asif jerked forward by some gigantic, invisible hand. Beneath the bows thewater parted with a crisp sound like tearing paper. Long ripples widenedaway from the sides, like ribs of a huge fan. A glassy hillock of watersprang up mysteriously astern, pursuing them like an avenging Nemesis,yet never quite catching up.

  The sense of irresistible speed was tremendous, as stimulating aselectricity; this in spite of the fact that the boat was at best makingabout half the speed at which the motor-car had plunged along thecountry roads: an effect in part due to the spacious illusion of moonlitdistances upon the water.

  Staff held his cap with one hand, drinking in the keen salt air with afeeling of strange exultation. Iff crept forward and tarried for a timetalking to the boatbuilder.

  The boat shaved a nun-buoy outside Barmouth Point so closely that Staffcould almost have touched it by stretching out his arm. Then shestraightened out like a greyhound on a long course across the placidsilver reache
s to a goal as yet invisible.

  Iff returned to the younger man's side.

  "Twenty miles an hour, Bascom claims," he shouted. "At that rate weought to be there in about fifteen minutes now."

  Staff nodded, wondering what they would find on Wreck Island, bitterlyrepenting the oversight which had resulted in Ismay's escape from hisgrasp. If only he had not been so sure of his conquest of the littlecriminal ...! Now his mind crawled with apprehensions bred of hisknowledge of the man's amazing fund of resource. He who outwitted Ismaywould have earned the right to plume himself upon his cunning....

  When he looked up from his abstraction, the loom of the mainland wasseemingly very distant. The motor-boat was nearing the centre of a deepindentation in the littoral. And suddenly it was as though they did notmove at all, as if all this noise and labour went for nothing, as if theboat were chained to the centre of a spreading disk of silver,world-wide, illimitable, and made no progress for all its thrashing andits fury.

  Only the unending sweep of wind across his face denied that effect....

  Iff touched his arm.

  "There...." he said, pointing.

  Over the bows a dark mass seemed to have separated itself from theshadowed mainland, with which it had till then been merged. A strip ofsilver lay between the two, and while they watched it widened, swiftlywinning breadth and bulk as the motor-boat swung to the north of thelong, sandy spit at the western end of Wreck Island.

  "See anything of another boat?" Iff asked. "You look--your eyes areyounger than mine."

  Staff stood up, steadying himself with feet wide apart, and staredbeneath his hand.

  "No," he said; "I see no boat."

  "We've beaten him, then!" Iff declared joyfully.

  But they hadn't, nor were they long in finding it out. For presently thelittle island lay black, a ragged shadow against the blue-grey sky, uponthe starboard beam; and Bascom passed the word aft to shut off themotor. As its voice ceased, the boat shot in toward the land, and thelong thin moonlit line of the landing-stage detached itself from thegeneral obscurity and ran out to meet them. And so closely had Bascomcalculated that the "shoot" of the boat brought them to a standstill atthe end of the structure without a jar. Bascom jumped out with theheadwarp, Staff and Iff at his heels.

  From the other side of the dock a shadow uplifted itself, swiftly andsilently as a wraith, and stood swaying as it saluted them with profoundcourtesy.

  "Gennelmen," it said thickly, "I bidsh you welcome t' Wrecksh Island."

  With this it slumped incontinently back into a motor-boat which laymoored in the shadow of the dock; and a wild, ecstatic snore rang outupon the calm night air.

  "Thet's Eph Clover," said Bascom; "him 'nd his wife's caretakers here.He's drunker 'n a b'iled owl," added the boatbuilder lest theymisconstrue.

  "Cousin Artie seems unfortunate in his choice of minions, what?"commented Iff. "Come along, Staff.... Take care of that souse, will you,Spelvin? See that he doesn't try to mix in."

  They began to run along the narrow, yielding and swaying bridge ofplanks.

  "He hasn't beaten us out yet," Iff threw over his shoulder. "You keepback now--like a good child--please. I've got a hunch this is my hour."

  The hotel loomed before them, gables grey with moonshine, its long wallsdark save where, toward the middle of the main structure, chinks oflight filtered through a shuttered window, and where at one end an opendoor let out a shaft of lamplight upon the shadows....