"Does that give her a license to butt into my affairs?" demanded Madden.
Further warm words were on the tip of the boy's tongue, but he restrained himself. However, he reflected that he was about fed up with this arrogant, callous millionaire.
He looked toward the clock. A quarter to nine, and still no sign of Thorn and Evelyn Madden. Was the girl's train late? Hardly likely.
Though he did not feel particularly welcome in the room, he waited on. He would see this latest development through. At ten o'clock Mr. Gamble rose, and commenting favorably on the desert air, went to his room.
At five minutes past ten the roar of the big car in the yard broke the intense stillness. Bob Eden sat erect, his eager eyes straying from one door to another. Presently the glass doors leading to the patio opened. Martin Thorn came in alone.
Without a word to his chief, the secretary threw down his hat and dropped wearily into a chair. The silence became oppressive.
"Got your business attended to, eh?" suggested Eden cheerfully.
"Yes," said Thorn -- no more. Eden rose.
"Well, I guess I'll turn in," he said, and went to his room. As he entered he heard the splash of Mr. Gamble in the bath that lay between his apartment and that occupied by the professor. His seclusion was ended. Have to be more careful in the future.
Shortly after his lights were on, Ah Kim appeared at the door. Eden, finger on lips, indicated the bath. The Chinese nodded. They stepped to the far side of the bedroom and spoke in low tones.
"Well, where's little Evelyn?" asked the boy.
Chan shrugged. "More mystery," he whispered.
"Just what has our friend Thorn been doing for the past four hours?" Eden wondered.
"Enjoying moonlit ride on desert, I think," Chan returned. "When big car go out, I note speedometer. Twelve thousand eight hundred and forty miles. Four miles necessary to travel to town, and four to return with. But when big car arrives home, speedometer announces quietly twelve thousand eight hundred and seventy-nine miles."
"Charlie, you think of everything," Eden said admiringly.
"Strange place this Thorn has been," Charlie added. "Much red clay on ground." He exhibited a fragment of earth. "Scraped off on accelerator," he explained. "Maybe you have seen such place round here?"
"Nothing like it," replied Eden. "You don't suppose he's harmed the gal -- but no, Madden seems to be in on it, and she's his darling."
"Just one more little problem rising up," said Chan.
Eden nodded. "Lord, I haven't met so many problems since I gave up algebra. And by the way, tomorrow's Tuesday. The pearls are coming, hurrah, hurrah. At least, old P.J. thinks they are. He's going to be hard to handle tomorrow."
A faint knock sounded on the door to the patio, and Chan had just time to get to the fireplace and busy himself there when it was opened and Madden, oddly noiseless for him, entered.
"Why, hello --" began Eden.
"Hush!" said Madden. He looked toward the bathroom. "Go easy, will you. Ah Kim, get out of here."
"Allight, boss," said Ah Kim, and went.
Madden stepped to the bathroom door and listened. He tried it gently; it opened at his touch. He went in, locked the door leading into the room occupied by Gamble, and returned, shutting the door behind him.
"Now," he began, "I want to see you. Keep your voice down. I've finally got hold of your father on the telephone, and he tells me a man named Draycott will arrive with the pearls at Barstow tomorrow noon."
Eden's heart sank. "Ah -- er -- that ought to bring him here tomorrow night --"
Madden leaned close, and spoke in a hoarse undertone. "Whatever happens," he said, "I don't want that fellow to come to the ranch."
Eden stared at him in amazement. "Well, Mr. Madden, I'll be --"
"Hush! Leave my name out of it."
"But after all our preparation --"
"I tell you I've changed my mind. I don't want the pearls brought to the ranch at all. I want you to go to Barstow tomorrow, meet this Draycott, and order him to go on to Pasadena. I'm going down there on Wednesday. Tell him to meet me at the door of the Garfield National Bank in Pasadena at noon, sharp, Wednesday. I'll take the pearls then -- and I'll put them where they'll be safe."
Bob Eden smiled. "All right," he agreed. "You're the boss."
"Good," said Madden. "I'll have Ah Kim drive you into town in the morning, and you can catch the Barstow train. But remember -- this is between you and me. Not a word to anybody. Not to Gamble -- of course. Not even to Thorn."
"I get you," Eden answered.
"Fine! Then it's set. Good night."
Madden went softly out. For a long time Eden stared after him, more puzzled than ever.
"Well, anyhow," he said at last, "it means another day of grace. For this relief, much thanks."
CHAPTER XII
The Trolley On The Desert
A NEW DAY dawned, and over the stunted, bizarre shapes of that land of drought the sun resumed its merciless vigil. Bob Eden was early abroad; it was getting to be a habit with him. Before breakfast was served he had a full hour for reflection, and it could not be denied that he had much upon which to reflect. One by one he recalled the queer things that had happened since he came to the ranch. Foremost in his thoughts was the problem of Evelyn Madden. Where was that haughty lady now? No morning mists on the landscape here, but in his mind a constantly increasing fog. If only something definite would occur, something they could understand.
After breakfast he rose from the table and lighted a cigarette. He knew that Madden was eagerly waiting for him to speak.
"Mr. Madden," he said, "I find that I must go to Barstow this morning on rather important business. It's an imposition, I know. But if Ah Kim could drive me to town in time for the ten-fifteen train --"
Thorn's green eyes popped with sudden interest. Madden looked at the boy with ill-concealed approval.
"Why, that's all right," he replied. "I'll be glad to arrange it for you. Ah Kim -- you drive Mr. Eden in town in half an hour. Savvy?"
"All time moah job," complained Ah Kim. "Gettum up sunlise woik woik till sun him drop. You want 'um taxi driver why you no say so?"
"What's that?" cried Madden.
Ah Kim shrugged. "Allight, boss. I dlive 'um."
When, later on, Eden sat in the car beside the Chinese and the ranch was well behind them, Chan regarded him questioningly.
"Now you produce big mystery," he said. "Barstow on business has somewhat unexpected sound to me."
Eden laughed. "Orders from the big chief," he replied. "I'm to go down there and meet Al Draycott -- and the pearls."
For a moment Chan's free hand rested on his waist and the "undigestible" burden that still lay there.
"Madden changes fickle mind again?" he inquired.
"That's just what he's done." Eden related the purport of the millionaire's call on him the night before.
"What you know concerning that!" exclaimed Chan wonderingly.
"Well, I know this much," Eden answered. "It gives us one more day for the good old hoo malimali. Outside of that, it's just another problem for us to puzzle over. By the way, I didn't tell you why Doctor Whitcomb came to see us last night."
"No necessity," Chan replied. "I am loafing idle inside door close by and hear it all."
"Oh, you were? Then you know it may have been Shaky Phil, and not Thorn, who killed Louie?"
"Shaky Phil -- or maybe stranger in car who drive up and call him into road. Must admit that stranger interests me very deep. Who was he? Was it maybe him who carried news of Louie's approach out on to dreary desert?"
"Well, if you're starting to ask me questions," replied Eden, "then the big mystery is over and we may as well wash up and go home. For I haven't got an answer in me." Eldorado lay before them, its roofs gleaming under the morning sun. "By the way, let's drop in and see Holley. The train isn't due yet -- I suppose I'd better take it, somebody might be watching. In the interval, Holley may have new
s."
The editor was busy at his desk. "Hello, you're up and around pretty early this morning," he said. He pushed aside his typewriter. "Just dashing off poor old Louie's obit. What's new out at Mystery Ranch?"
Bob Eden told him of Doctor Whitcomb's call, also of Madden's latest switch regarding the pearls, and his own imminent wild goose chase to Barstow.
Holley smiled. "Cheer up -- a little travel will broaden you," he remarked. "What did you think of Miss Evelyn? But then, I believe you had met her before."
"Think of Miss Evelyn? What do you mean?" asked Eden, surprised.
"Why, she came last night, didn't she?"
"Not so anybody could notice it. No sign of her at the ranch."
Holley rose and walked up and down for a moment. "That's odd. That's very odd. She certainly arrived on the six-forty train."
"You're sure of that?" Eden asked.
"Of course I am. I saw her." Holley sat down again. "I wasn't very much occupied last night -- it was one of my free nights -- I have three hundred and sixty-five of them every year. So I strolled over to the station and met the six-forty. Thorn was there, too. A tall handsome girl got off the train, and I heard Thorn address her as Miss Evelyn. 'How's dad?' she asked. 'Get in,' said Thorn, 'and I'll tell you about him. He wasn't able to come to meet you himself.' The girl entered the car, and they drove away. Naturally, I thought she was brightening your life long before this."
Eden shook his head. "Funny business," he commented. "Thorn got back to the ranch a little after ten, and when he came he was alone. Charlie here discovered, with his usual acumen, that the car had traveled some thirty-nine miles."
"Also clinging to accelerator, as though scraped off from shoe of Thorn, small fragment of red clay," added Chan. "You are accustomed round here, Mr. Holley. Maybe you can mention home of red clay."
"Not offhand," replied Holley. "There are several places -- But say, this thing gets deeper and deeper. Oh -- I was forgetting -- there's a letter here for you, Eden."
He handed over a neat missive addressed in an old-fashioned hand. Eden inspected it with interest. It was from Madame Jordan, a rather touching appeal not to let the deal for the pearls fall through. He went back and began to read it aloud. Mrs. Jordan could not understand. Madden was there, he had bought the pearls -- why the delay? The loss of that money would be serious for her.
When he had finished, Eden looked accusingly at Chan, then tore the letter to bits and threw them into a wastepaper basket. "I'm about through," he said. "That woman is one of the dearest old souls that ever lived, and it strikes me we're treating her shamefully. After all, what's happening out at Madden's ranch is none of our business. Our duty to Madame Jordan --"
"Pardon me," broke in Chan, "but coming to that, I have sense of duty most acute myself. Loyalty blooms in my heart forever --"
"Well, and what do you think we ought to do?" demanded Eden.
"Watch and wait."
"But good lord -- we've done that. I was thinking about it this morning. One inexplicable event after another, and never anything definite, anything we can get our teeth into. Such a state of affairs may go on forever. I tell you, I'm fed up."
"Patience," said Chan, "are a very lovely virtue. Through long centuries Chinese cultivate patience like kind gardener tending flowers. White men leap about similar to bug in bottle. Which are better method, I inquire?"
"But listen, Charlie. All this stuff we've discovered out at the ranch -- that's for the police."
"For stupid Captain Bliss, maybe. He with the feet of large extensiveness."
"I can't help the size of his feet. What's that got to do with it? No, sir -- I can't see why we don't give Madden the pearls, get his receipt, and then send for the sheriff and tell him the whole story. After that, he can worry about who was killed at Madden's ranch."
"He would solve the problem," scoffed Chan. "Great mind, no doubt, like Captain Bliss. Your thought has, from me, nothing but hot opposition."
"Well, but I'm considering Madame Jordan. I've got her interests at heart."
Chan patted him on the back. "Who can question that? You fine young fellow, loyal and kind. But, listen now to older heads. Mr. Holley, you have inclination to intrude your oar?"
"I certainly have," smiled Holley. "I'm all on the side of Chan, Eden. It would be a pity to drop this thing now. The sheriff's a good sort, but all this would be too deep for him. No, wait just a little while --"
"All right," sighed Eden. "I'll wait. Provided you tell me one thing. What are we waiting for?"
"Madden goes to Pasadena tomorrow," Chan suggested. "No doubt Thorn will accompany, and we quench this Gamble somehow. Great time for us. All our search at ranch up to now hasty and breathless, like man pursuing trolley-car. Tomorrow we dig deep."
"You can do it," replied Eden. "I'm not eager to dig for the sort of prize you want." He paused. "At that, I must admit I'm pretty curious myself. Charlie, you're an old friend of the Jordans, and you can take the responsibility for this delay."
"Right here on shoulders," Chan agreed, "responsibility reclines. Same way necklace reposes on stomach. Seem to coddle there now, those Phillimore pearls, happy and content. Humbly suggest you take this aimless journey to Barstow."
Eden looked at his watch. "I suppose I might as well. Bit of city life never did anybody any harm. But I warn you that when I come back, I want a little light. If any more dark, mysterious things happen at that ranch, I certainly will run right out into the middle of the desert and scream."
Taking the train proved an excellent plan, for on the station platform he met Paula Wendell, who evidently had the same idea. She was trim and charming in riding togs, and her eyes sparkled with life.
"Hello," she said. "Where are you bound?"
"Going to Barstow, on business," Eden explained.
"Is it important?"
"Naturally. Wouldn't squander my vast talents on any other kind."
A dinky little train wandered in, and they found a seat together in one of its two cars.
"Sorry to hear you're needed in Barstow," remarked the girl. "I'm getting off a few stations down. Going to rent a horse and take a long ride up into Lonely Canyon. It wouldn't have been so lonely if you could have come along."
Eden smiled happily. Certainly one had few opportunities to look into eyes like hers. "What station do we get off at?" he inquired.
"We? I thought you said --"
"The truth isn't in me, these days. Barstow doesn't need my presence any more than you need a beauty doctor. Lonely Canyon, after today, will have to change its name."
"Good," she answered. "We get off at Seven Palms. The old rancher who rents me a horse will find one for you, I'm sure."
"I'm not precisely dressed for the role," admitted Eden. "But I trust it will be all the same to the horse."
The horse didn't appear to mind. His rather dejected manner suggested that he had expected something like this. They left the tiny settlement known as Seven Palms and cantered off across the desert.
"For to admire and for to see, for to behold this world so wide," said Eden. "Never realized how very wide it was until I came down here."
"Beginning to like the desert?" the girl inquired.
"Well, there's something about it," he admitted. "It grows on you, that's a fact. I don't know that I could put the feeling into words."
"I'm sure I can't," she answered. "Oh, I envy you, coming here for the first time. If only I could look at this country again with a fresh, disinterested eye. But it's just location to me. I see all about me the cowboys, the cavalcades, the caballeros of Hollywood. Tragedies and feats of daring, rescues and escapes. I tell you, these dunes and canyons have seen more movies than Will Hays."
"Hunting locations today?" Eden asked.
"Always hunting," she sighed. "They've just sent me a new script -- as new as those mountains over there. All about the rough cowpuncher and the millionaire's dainty daughter from the East -- you know."
&
nbsp; "I certainly do. Girl's fed up on those society orgies, isn't she?"
"Who wouldn't be? However, the orgies are given in full, with the swimming pool working overtime, as always. But that part doesn't concern me. It's after she comes out here, sort of hungering to meet a real man, that I must start worrying. Need I add, she meets him? Her horse runs away over the desert, and tosses her off amid the sagebrush. In the nick of time, the cowpuncher finds her. Despite their different stations, love blossoms here in the waste land. Sometimes I'm almost glad that mine is beginning to be an obsolete profession."
The Chinese Parrot Page 16
