Complete Works of Talbot Mundy

by Talbot Mundy

  * * * * *

  The Zionist had lit the lamp and was reading a Hebrew magazine in Jim’s chair with that peculiar manner of armed intensity that characterizes the thinkers of the movement. His Vandyke beard and thin, Semitic nose, and a narrow shawl thrown loosely over his shoulders, made him look in that uncertain light like one of the statesmen-priests who used to intrigue in medieval history.

  “Now I’m at your service.”

  “I have come to appeal to you as a fellow American, Major Grim.”

  “Don’t forget I’m in British uniform.”

  “I am also an American, as it were in service under British rules and regulations.”

  “The positions seem different to me. However—”

  “You are the only American in British uniform to whom I can appeal. I am not under arrest for the present. They have spared me that indignity, although I understand that General Jenkins demanded it.

  “I am charged with plotting to steal British rifles, and with hiding them under the floor of our store-shed, where they were discovered this morning by a Captain Ticknor. Now I know nothing about those rifles. We have never used that space beneath the floor. We only hire the place.

  “I have no notion how the rifles got there; how should I have? I am only quite sure that no Zionist had a hand in it, for I know what every Zionist in Ludd has been doing all the time. But how can I prove it?

  “I am told you exposed a plot against Zionists in Jerusalem. Will you help us now?”

  Jim sat down on the bed and smiled. Aaronsohn took the smile for mere politeness covering hesitation, and turned loose all his persuasive power.

  “Whatever your racial prejudices, Major Grim, the predicament we Zionist are placed in surely must appeal to you. On the one hand the British Government promises us everything — a national home for Jews in Palestine — assistance — fair play; and some of their officers try to make good that promise. I give them full credit. They haven’t much intelligence from our point of view, but they act according to their lights.

  “On the other hand some of the officers, General Jenkins among them, stop at nothing to put us in a bad light, and do everything within their power to handicap us in every way. Such men have even less intelligence than the others, but their official position gives them opportunity.”

  “The British are not all fools,” said Jim.

  “That is after all a matter of opinion. Certainly some of them are just according to their lights; but it is the very sense of justice that I dread in this instance.

  “General Anthony will order a court martial on me and a handful of others. All the officers who are anti-Zionist will exert themselves to discover circumstantial evidence against us. We have none whatever—”

  “Oh, yes, you have,” said Jim.

  “But what? I have been allowed to visit the place since the discovery, and it is true that it can be shown that the rifles were carried in through a door connecting with a place next door that is own by Arabs.

  “But they will answer, ‘What does that prove?’ Only that we paid Arabs to do the stealing for us! I am told that Ibrahim Charkas, who is the worst kind of criminal, will swear that we Zionist paid him.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Jim. “I think I know enough to prick that bubble. I’ll provide you with some evidence when the time comes.”

  “But what? What do you know? Tell me — I insist.”

  “It ‘ud take too long,” said Jim. “Besides, the value of what I know largely depends on my discovering something else that seems to have nothing to do with it. I’m interested in that just now. I’m at my wits’ end, and want time to think.”

  “Let me try to help you. We will help each other.”

  “You can’t help.”

  “How do you know? State the case and try me.”

  “I must find an Arab named Sayed Haurani, who was talking to Captain Catesby by halfway between the station and the town on the afternoon of the third between five and six o’clock. I need him in a hurry.”

  Aaronsohn looked startled.

  “I suppose you have orders to gather further evidence against Zionists?” he asked acidly.

  “No.”

  It was Jim’s turn to sit up and take notice.

  “Is Sayed Haurani a Zionist? Of course he isn’t. But what d’you know of him?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “To save Captain Catesby from being cashiered on a false charge.”

  “Sayre Haurani was my messenger. I dismissed him on that occasion for returning an hour late from the station, because I disbelieved his story.”

  Jim lay back on the bed and threw his legs in the air.

  “Can you find him?” he asked.

  “Certainly.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “The chain’s complete! Go and find him. Produce him at eight o’clock tomorrow morning in General Anthony’s office and the world’s your oyster!”

  “I have no desire to eat a world on the half-shell, Major Grim.”

  “You shall have Jenkins’ head on a slaver!”

  “Pardon me, I am not Salome.”

  “What in thunder could a man want more than that? Go on, Aaronsohn — find your man! Produce him at eight A.M. and leave the rest to me.”

  In vain Aaronsohn coaxed, cajoled and persuaded. Jim shut up like a clam; but his eyes betrayed such infinite enjoyment that even Aaronsohn at last took comfort from it and went away to find the discharged messenger.

  * * * * *

  The minute he was gone, Jim went over to Catesby’s tent and called out to him, standing between the sentries rather that run the risk of stirring Jenkins any further by being seen entering the tent.

  “All right, old son, you’re cleared. Be at headquarters at eight o’clock. They’ll fetch you anyhow.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Good news, that’s all. Go to sleep and dream about promotion.”

  From there he went straight to General Anthony, who looked worried. He called Jim into an inner room and shut the door.

  “What’s at the bottom of all this, Grim? Have you any idea?

  “It looks to me as if Jenkins is going to get away with murder once again. He has got the whole camp by the ears. We shall have the provost-marshal sending in his resignation next. After that I suppose there’ll be a decoration sent out from home for me to pin on Jenkins! — it, the man’s luck in unbelievable!”

  Jim put his tongue in his cheek.

  “I’ve not a word to say against him, sir!”

  “What have you come here for, then?”

  “Merely to suggest that if you think both cases are sufficiently important you might order a preliminary hearing first thing tomorrow morning — all witnesses to be present as a matter of fair play.”

  “Why? Have you got something?”

  “I’d like to see Jenkins given an early chance to take all the credit to himself. Maybe he deserves it,” Jim answered.

  “Oh! Very well. By gad, Grim, if you let Jenkins get away with this I’ll have you sent back to America. You think Catesby ought to have a hearing too tomorrow morning, eh?”

  “He ought to come first, sir.”

  “Yes, he has the right to that. What else?”

  “Nothing else. If you’ll issue the necessary orders, sir, I know of nothing that need spoil your appetite for dinner or your sleep tonight.”

  “That so? Ahem! Somebody blundered, eh?”

  “Good night, sir.”

  CHAPTER XIV

  “Proceed with the case.”

  NEXT morning the office at G.H.Q. was crowded, for the provost-marshal was there with all his prisoners; and there were a score of witnesses in addition, to say nothing of Brigadier Jenkins in his glory, and Aaronsohn, who was halfway between prisoner and witness. The latter had a nondescript, rebellious-looking Arab beside him, who had had to be bribed to come at all.

  Catesby was sitting in a corner by
himself, in theoretical charge of two sentries, who stayed outside the office door.

  Anthony came in punctual to the second.

  “Major Grim here?”

  To Jenkins’ fidgety disgust Jim was busy talking to Charkas over against the wall.

  “I think he’s too busy interfering with witnesses to answer his name,” snapped the brigadier.

  “Major Grim!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What are you doing over there?”

  “Cautioning a prisoner to tell the truth for his own sake.”

  “Ahem! I understand you appear for Captain Catesby? You want the case heard?”

  “If you please.”

  “I object to that,” said Jenkins. “Captain Catesby is an important witness in the next case.”

  “I will invite comment from you at the proper time, general,” said Anthony without looking up. “Call the prisoner.”

  Catesby marched up and faced the desk.

  “Then I want the room cleared,” Jenkins blustered.

  “I want all my witnesses, including Charkas, in the room for the present,” Jim said quietly.

  “I particularly want Charkas out of the room,” insisted Jenkins. “He has got nothing to do with this case.”

  “Has he?” asked Anthony.

  “Yes, sir,” answered Jim.

  “The defense is within its rights,” said Anthony.

  And Jenkins, not exactly knowing why, but intuitively sensing disaster, turned about three shaded redder in the face.

  “I’m ready to hear what you have to say, general,” Anthony announced; and Jenkins opened fire on the unhappy Catesby, charging him first with culpable neglect and disobedience to orders in permitting two tons of TNT to be stolen from a truck, and secondly with felony in having given the railway memorandum to Charkas, enabling him to steal the stuff.

  Also with being an accessory to a felony before and after the fact, and with conduct in general unbecoming to an officer and a gentleman.

  At that point Jim produced the railway memorandum and laid it on the table.

  “In case of need I may ask to have it examined for fingerprints,” he said. “I expect to be able to prove that those of Captain Catesby are not on it, whereas those of General Jenkins and Ibrahim Charkas are. But that may not be necessary.”

  “Are you making any implication?” demanded Jenkins.

  “No, sir.”

  “Proceed with the case,” commanded Anthony.

  Jenkins had a peroration all prepared; he was constitutionally incapable of doing anything without calling attention to his own virtues, and he dissertated at length on the high calling of an officer until Anthony cut him short and demanded evidence.

  Jenkins bit his mustache, and swore under his breath.

  “My charge in itself is evidence,” he said, “sufficient evidence to hold the prisoner. I am withholding my chief witness for the next case.”

  “You mean that you appear as prosecutor and witness?” asked Anthony.

  “Yes — on the charge of culpable negligence.”

  “I’m willing that charge should be taken first by itself,” said Jim, and Jenkins looked vastly relieved and nodded to him.

  “Go on oath if you’re a witness,” ordered Anthony, and Jenkins duly kissed the well-worn Testament.

  “Now go ahead. I’ll write down your evidence.”

  * * * * *

  Jenkins described then in great detail as to his own feelings in the matter, but vaguely as to time, how he had given orders to Catesby on the evening of the third to go and take charge of the TNT, which was subsequently stolen and recovered in Jerusalem.

  “And I ask,” he said, “that the prisoner be held for court martial on this charge, and that the other charges be taken tomorrow.”

  “Certainly not,” said Anthony. “Any questions, Major Grim?”

  Jim pinned Jenkins down to giving the exact time — first, however, getting him to boast about his excellent memory. Driven to it, Jenkins swore on oath that he had given the memorandum to Catesby shortly after five o’clock in the afternoon of the third.

  “You gave it into his hand?”

  “Yes.”

  “You swear to that?”

  “Certainly.”

  Jim put up Catesby, who told a perfectly straight story of having questioned a man named Sayed Haurani for an hour, beginning before five o’clock, at a point more than a mile away from Jenkins’ office, and by Jenkins’ orders on that date.

  Jenkins reserved cross-examination. With his eye on Charkas, whose face was the picture of indecision and mixed emotions, Jim called Sayed Haurani. The man identified Catesby and confirmed his story in all particulars.

  Jenkins tried to break down the story by bullying the witness, but failed. The man was insolently confident.

  “I ask to have the hearing postponed until I can look up this man’s antecedents,” said Jenkins. “He’s an obvious liar. This is what comes of turning an accused officer loose to suborn evidence in the bazaar.”

  Anthony waved the objection aside, and Jenkins grew still more uncomfortable.

  “Either this witness is committing perjury, or I did,” he blustered. “It’s no joking matter.”

  “Obviously,” said Anthony, again without looking up. “Call your next witness if you have one, Major Grim.”

  Then Aaronsohn stood up before the desk and confirmed Sayed Haurani’s evidence, explaining how he had disbelieved the man at the time and had dismissed him for returning from the station late. He gave the Arab a high character for everything except discipline, describing him as an insolently disobedient man, who did not trouble himself to lie about things as a rule, but shook off rebuke with an air of bold indifference.

  At last Anthony began to look very hard at Jenkins, who avoided his gaze by pretending to look about the room for someone who was not there. Jim had his eye on Charkas. A great deal depended now on the effect that what had gone before had had on Charkas.

  “Perhaps you’d like to re-examine General Jenkins yourself sir?” he asked Anthony.

  Anthony took the cue, and grilled the brigadier on each point of his evidence, reducing him at last to a state of boiling anger bordering on insubordination.

  “If I’m charged with lying on oath I’d like to know it,” he snapped.

  “Stand down, sir,” ordered Anthony.

  “Ibrahim Charkas,” ordered Jim.

  He met Charkas’ eye and glanced meaningly at Jenkins, but there was no need. The Arab had seen which way the cat was jumping, and decided there was more profit for himself in contributing to Jenkins’ downfall than in trying to support him.

  He could not tell the truth, of course; that would have been too much to expect of him. But he blurted out the whole story of the plot to ruin the Zionists, and accused Jenkins of having not only suggested it but of having paid for it as well. And instead of admitting the theft of the TNT memorandum, he accused Jenkins of having given it to him.

  * * * * *

  That was enough for that morning. It was only a preliminary hearing, not a court martial.

  Anthony decided to postpone the hearing of the case against Charkas and the other thieves. He dismissed charges against Catesby, entering against them the two words “honorably discharged” for future reference. The two soldiers who had stood guard over Catesby were then formally transferred to “Jinks,” who marched off to his own tent a prisoner.

  Anthony had turned to Aaronsohn to tell him that pending the trial of the thieves there would be no restraint on his movements or implication against him, when there was a disturbance at the door. A sentry came to explain.

  “Admit him,” said Anthony, and in marched Narayan Singh, with his uniform in shreds and the marks of a strenuous fight all over him.

  He was bleeding slightly in one or two places, and one eye was nearly closed.

  “Well?” demanded Anthony. “What does this mean?”

  “The iblis, sahib.”

&
nbsp; “What of him?”

  “I took four men and stalked him all through the night. He was dancing again. We came up with him and he ran. We followed. He ran very fast, skipping like a he-goat, but the moon favored us and we kept him in view.

  “He came to bay at last in a nullah, and we called on him to surrender. He did not answer, but started to make magic to frighten us, waving with his arms thus — and thus. I gave the order to make him prisoner. So we left our rifles in charge of one man, and four of us rushed in to seize him.”

  “And didn’t find it so easy, eh?”

  “Nay, sahib, far from easy. He fought as I have never known a man to fight. He was stronger than a leopard. He struck with hands and feet — bit with his teeth — and all but tore the four of us limb from limb. And the man who held the rifles could not shoot because of the darkness and the risk of killing one of us. At last he had three of us senseless, but I broke loose from his hold and limped back for my rifle.”

  “Senseless, eh? Where are they now?”

  “In hospital, general sahib. They were able to crawl home.”

  “You haven’t told us where the iblis is,” said Jim.

  “Safe in jehannum, sahib.”

  “Dead, d’you mean?” asked Anthony. “How?”

  “He died a natural death, general sahib.”

  “What — fell dead, d’you mean? Apoplexy — over-exertion or something?”

  “Nay, sahib; my bayonet took him under the ribs and so upwards. He was a good fighter. The account is square between us.”

  “Where’s the body? Did you leave it there?”

  “Nay, general sahib. It says on the paper I should bring the prisoner in. We dragged it all the way between us, taking turns. The dakitar sahib says it weighs two hundred pounds.”

  “Dismissed, then. Go and get your wounds dressed,” ordered Anthony.

  THE END

  A SECRET SOCIETY

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I. “See here, Jim, you quit the British army!”

  CHAPTER II. “We three now haven’t a parasite between us.”

  CHAPTER III. “I have sworn a vow. Henceforward I serve none but queens!”