October 1930

by Unknown

  * * * * *

  But not so De Boer's camp, which presently I was to see. Nor this, hisflyer, with which his smuggling activities had puzzled Hanley's Officefor so many months. There was nothing primitive here.

  De Boer himself was a swaggering villain. I saw him now with his cloakdiscarded, in the normal tube-lights of the control room when, after atime, the mechanism of invisibility of the flyer was shut off. Afellow of six feet and a half at the very least, this De Boer. Heavy,yet with his great height and strength, lean and graceful. He wore afabric shirt, with a wide-rolled collar. A wide belt of tanned hide,with lighters, a little electron drink-cooler and other nick-nackerieshanging from tasseled cords--and a naked, ugly-looking knife bladeclipped beside a holster which held an old-fashioned explodingprojector of leaden steel-tipped bullets.

  His trousers were of leather, wide-flaring, ending at his brawny bareknees, with wide-cut, limp leather boots flapping about his calves inancient piratical fashion. They had flaring soles, these shoes, forwalking upon the Lowland caked ooze. The uppers were useless: I ratherthink he wore them because they were picturesque. He was a handsomefellow, with rough-hewn features. A wide mouth, and very white, eventeeth. A cruel mouth, when it went grim. But the smile was intriguing:I should think particularly so to women.

  He had a way with him, this devil-may-care bandit. Strange mixture ofa pirate of old and an outlaw of our modern world. With a sash at hiswaist, a red handkerchief about his forehead, and a bloody knifebetween his teeth. I could have fancied him a fabled pirate of theSpanish Main. A few hundred years ago when these dry Lowlands held thetossing seas. But I had seen him, so far, largely seated quietly inhis chair at his instrument table, a cigarette dangling from his lips,and, instead of a red bandanna about his forehead, merely the elasticband holding the lens of his image-finder. It caught in the locks ofhis curly black hair. He pushed it askew; and then, since he did notneed it now, discarded it altogether.

  * * * * *

  Where we went I could not surmise, except that we flew low over thesullen black waters of the Nares Sea and then headed northeast. Wekept well below the zero-height, with the dark crags of the Lowlandspassing under us.

  The night grew darker. Storm clouds obscured the moon; and it was thenthat De Boer shut off the mechanism of invisibility. The control room,with only the watchful Gutierrez now in it--besides De Boer, Jetta andmyself--was silent and orderly. But there were sounds of roisteringfrom down the ship's corridor. The bandits, with this treasure of theradiumized quicksilver ingots aboard, were already triumphantlycelebrating.

  I sat whispering with Jetta. De Boer, busy with charts andnavigational instruments, ignored us, and Gutierrez, so long as we didnot move, seemed not to object to our whispers.

  The night slowly passed. De Boer served us food, calling to one of hismen to shove a slide before us. For himself, he merely drank hiscoffee and an alcoholic drink at his instrument table, while absorbedin his charts.

  The roistering of the men grew louder. De Boer leaped to his feet,cursed them roundly, then went back to his calculations. He stood oncebefore Jetta, regarding her with a strange, slow smile which made myheart pound. But he turned away in a moment.

  The bandits, for all De Boer's admonitions, were now ill-conditionedfor handling this flyer. But I saw, through the small grid-opening inthe control room ceiling, the pilot in his cubby upon the wing-top.He sat alert and efficient, with his lookout beside him.

  * * * * *

  The night presently turned really tumultuous, with a great windoverhead, and storm clouds of ink, shot through occasionally bylightning flashes. We flew lower, at minus 2,000 feet, on the average.The heavy air was sultry down here, with only a dim blurred vista ofthe depths beneath us. I fancied that now we were bending eastward,out over the great basin pit of the mid-Atlantic area. No vesselspassed us, or, if they did, I did not sight them.

  De Boer had a detector on his table. Occasionally it would buzz withcalls: liners or patrols in our general neighborhood. He ignored themwith a sardonic smile. Once or twice, when our dim lights might havebeen sighted, he altered our course sharply. And, when at one periodwe passed over the lights of some Lowland settlement, he flung usagain into invisibility until we were beyond range.

  I had, during these hours, ample opportunity to whisper with Jetta.But there was so little for us to say. I knew all of Spawn's andPerona's plot. Both were dead: it was De Boer with whom we weremenaced now. And as I saw his huge figure lounging at his table, andhis frowning, intent face, the vision of the aged, futile Perona, whohad previously been my adversary, seemed inoffensive indeed.

  De Boer obviously was pleased with himself. He had stolen half amillion dollars of treasure, and was making off with it to his base inthe depths. He would smuggle these ingots into the world markets athis convenience; months from now, probably. Meanwhile, what did heintend to do with me? And Jetta? Ransom me? I wondered how he couldmanage it. And the thought pounded me. What about Jetta? I felt nowthat she was all the world to me. Her safety, beyond any thought ofsmugglers or treasure, was all that concerned me. But what was Igoing to do about it?

  * * * * *

  I pressed her hand. "Jetta, you're not too frightened, are you?"

  "No, Philip."

  Her mind, I think, was constantly on her father, lying dead back thereon his garden path. I had not spoken of him, save once. She threatenedinstant tears, and I stopped.

  "Do not be too frightened. We'll get out of this."

  "Yes."

  "He can't escape. Jetta; he can't hide. Why, in a day or so all thepatrols of the United States Lowland Service will be after us!"

  But if the patrol-ships assailed De Boer, if he found things goingbadly--he could so easily kill Jetta and me. He might be caught, butwe would never come through it alive.

  My thoughts drifted along, arriving nowhere, just circling in the samefutile rounds. I was aware of Jetta falling asleep beside me, her faceagainst my shoulder, her fingers clutching mine. She looked like ahalf grown, slender, ragged boy. But her woman's hair lay thick on myarm, and one of the dark tresses fell to my hand. I turned my fingersin it. This strange little woman. Was my love for her foredoomed toend in tragedy? I swore then that I would not let it be so.

  CHAPTER XIV - Jetta Takes a Hand

  I came from my reverie to find De Boer before me. He was standing withlegs planted wide, arms folded across his deep chest, and on his facean ironic smile.

  "So tired! My little captives, di mi! You look like babes lost in awood."

  I disengaged myself from Jetta, resting her against a cushion, and shedid not awaken. I stood up, fronting De Boer.

  "What are you going to do with me?" I demanded.

  He held his ironic smile. "Take you to my camp. You'll be well hidden,no one can follow me. My X-flyer's a very handy thing to have, isn'tit?"

  "So you're the smuggler I was sent after?"

  That really amused him. "Er--yes. Those tricksters, Perona andSpawn--we were what you would call partners. He had--the perfumedPerona--what he thought was a clever scheme for us. I was to take allthe risk, and he and Spawn get most of the money. Chah! They thought Iwas imbecile--pretending to attack a treasure and being such a foolthat I would not seize it for myself! Not De Boer!" He chuckled."Well, so very little did they know me. No treasure yet touched DeBoer's fingers without lingering!"

  * * * * *

  He was in a talkative mood, and drew up his chair and slouched in it.I saw that he had been drinking some alcholite beverage, not enough tobefuddle him, but enough to take the keen edge off his wits, and makehim want to talk.

  "Sit down, Grant."

  "I'll stand."

  "As you like."

  "What are you going to do with me?" I demanded again. "Try to ransomme for a fat price from the United States?"

  He smiled sourly. "You need not be sarcastic, young lad. The betterfor you if I get a ransom."

  "Then I hope you get it."

  "Perona's idea," he adde
d. "I will admit it looked possible: I did notknow then you had Government protection." He went grim. "That wasPerona and Spawn's trickery. Well, they paid for it. No one plays DeBoer false and lives to tell it. Perona and Spawn wanted to get rid ofyou--because you annoyed them."

  "Did I?"

  "With the little Jetta, I fancy." His gaze went to the sleeping Jettaand back to me. "Perona was very sensitive where this little woman wasconcerned. Why not? An oldish fool like him--"

  * * * * *

  I could agree with that, but I did not say so.

  I said, "You'd better cast me loose, Jetta and me. I suppose yourealize, De Boer, that you'll have the patrols like a pack of houndsafter you. Jetta is a Nareda citizen: the United States will take thatup. There's the theft of the treasure. And as you say, I'm aGovernment agent."

  He nodded. "Your Government is over-zealous in protecting its agents.That I know, Grant. I might have left you alone, there in the garden,when I realized it. But that, by damn, was too late! Live men talk.Any way, if I cannot ransom you, to kill you is very easy. And deadmen are shut-mouthed."

  "I'm still alive, De Boer."

  He eyed me. "You talk brave."

  This condescending, amused giant!

  I retorted. "How are you going to ransom me?"

  "That," he said. "I have not yet planned it. A delicate business."

  I ventured, "And Jetta?" My heart was beating fast.

  "Jetta," he said with a sudden snap, "is none of your business."

  Again his gaze went toward her. "I might marry her: why not? I am notwholly a villain. I could marry her legally in Cape Town, with all thetrappings of clergy--and be immune from capture under the laws there.If she is seventeen. I have forgotten her age, it's been so long sinceI knew her. Is she seventeen? She does not look it."

  I said shortly. "I don't know how old she is."

  "But we can ask her when she awakens, can't we?"

  * * * * *

  He was amusing himself with me. And yet, looking back on it now, Ibelieve he was more than half serious. From his pouch he drew a smallcylinder. "Have a drink, Grant. After all I bear you no ill-will. Aman can but follow his trade: you were trying to be a good Governmentagent."

  "Thanks."

  "And then you may make it possible for me to pick a nice ransom.Here."

  "I hope so." I declined the drink.

  "Afraid for your wits?"

  I said impulsively, "I want all my wits to make sure you handle thisransom properly, De Boer. I'm as interested as you are: in that atleast, we are together."

  He grinned, tipped the cylinder at his lips for a long drink.

  "Quite so--a mutual interest. Let us be friends over it."

  His gaze wandered back to Jetta. He added slowly:

  "She is very lovely, Grant. A little woodland flower, just ready forplucking." A sentimental tone, but there was in his expression aribald flippancy that sent a shudder through me. "She has quiteovercome you, Grant. Well, why not me as well? I am certainly more ofa man than you. We must admit that Perona had a good eye."

  * * * * *

  My thoughts were wandering. Suppose I could not find an opportunity toescape with Jetta? De Boer might successfully ransom me and take herto Cape Town. Or if he feared that to try for the ransom would be toodangerous, doubtless he would kill me out of hand. An ill outcomeindeed! Nor could I forget that there was half a million of treasureinvolved.

  It was obvious to me that Hanley would not permit the patrol-ships toattack De Boer with the lives of Jetta and myself at stake. Hanleyknew, or suspected, that De Boer was operating an invisible flyer, butI did not see how that could help Hanley much. Markes, acting forNareda, would doubtless be willing to ransom Jetta: the United Stateswould ransom me. I must urge the ransom plan, because for all themoney in the world I would not endanger Jetta, nor let this banditcarry her off.

  Or could I escape with her, and still find some means to save thetreasure? It was Jetta's treasure now, two-thirds of it, for it hadlegally belonged to her father. Could I save it, and her as well?

  Not by any move of mine, here now on this flyer. That was impossible.In De Boer's camp, perhaps. But that, too, I doubted. He was tooclever a scoundrel to be lax in guarding me.

  But in the effecting of a ransom--the exchange of me, and perhapsJetta, for a sum of money--that would be a delicate transaction, andsome little thing could easily go wrong for De Boer. There would be mychance. I would have to make something go wrong! Get in his confidencenow so that I would have some say in arranging the details of theransom. Make him think I was only concerned for my own safety. Appearclever in helping plan the exchange. And then so manipulate the thingthat I could escape with Jetta and save the treasure--and the ransommoney as well. And capture De Boer, since that was what Hanley hadsent me out to accomplish.

  * * * * *

  Thoughts fly swiftly. All this flashed to me. I had no details as yet.But that I must get into De Boer's confidence stood but clearly.

  I said abruptly, "De Boer, since we are to be friends--"

  "So you prefer to sit down now?"

  "Yes." I had drawn a small settle to face him. "De Boer, do you intendto ask a ransom for Jetta?"

  "You insist with that question?"

  "That is my way. Then we can understand each other. Do you?"

  "No," he said shortly.

  I frowned. "I think I could get you a big price."

  "I think I should prefer the little Jetta, Grant."

  I held myself outwardly unmoved. "I don't blame you. But you willransom me? It can be worked out. I have some ideas."

  "Yes," he agreed. "It can be worked perhaps. I have not thought ofdetails yet. You are much concerned for your safety, Grant? Fear not."

  An amused thought evidently struck him. He added. "It occurs to me howeasy, if I am going to ransom you, it will be for me to send you backdead. You might, if I send you back alive, tell them a lot of thingsabout me."

  "I will not talk."

  "Not," he said, "if I close your mouth for good."

  * * * * *

  I had no retort. There was no answering such logic; and with hismurders of Spawn and Perona, and the deaths of some of the policeguards at the mine, the murder of me would not put him in much worse aposition.

  He was laughing ironically. Suddenly he checked himself.

  "Well, Jetta! So you have awakened?"

  Jetta was sitting erect. How long she had been awake, what she hadheard. I could not say. Her gaze went from De Boer to me, and backagain.

  "Yes, I am awake."

  It seemed that the look she flashed me carried a warning. But whateverit was, I had no chance of pondering it, for it was driven from mymind by surprise at her next words.

  "Awake, yes! And interested, hearing this Grant bargain with you forhis life."

  It surprised De Boer as well. But the alcholite had dulled his wits,and Jetta realized this, and presumed upon it.

  "Ho!" exclaimed De Boer. "Our little bird is angry!"

  "Not angry. It is contempt."

  Her look to me now held contempt. It froze me with startled chagrin;but only for an instant, and then the truth swept me. Strange Jetta! Ihad thought of her only as a child; almost, but not quite a woman. Afrightened little woodland fawn.

  "Contempt, De Boer. Is he not a contemptuous fellow, this American?"

  Again I caught her look and understood it. This was a differentJetta. No longer helplessly frightened, but a woman, fighting. She hadheard De Boer calmly saying that he might send me back dead--and shewas fighting now for me.

  De Boer took another drink, and stared at her. "What is this?"

  She turned away. "Nothing. But if you are going to ransom me--"

  "I am not, little bird."

  * * * * *

  She showed no aversion for him, and it went to his head, stronger thanthe drink. "Never would I ransom you!"

  He reached for her, but nimbly she avoided him. Acting, but cleverenough not to overdo it. I h
eld myself silent: I had caught again theflash of a warning gaze from her. She had fathomed my purpose. Get hisconfidence. Beguile him. And woman is so much cleverer than thetrickiest man at beguiling!

  "Do not touch me, De Boer! He tried that. He held my hand in themoonlight--to woo me with his clever words."

  "Hah! Grant, you hear her?"

  "And I find him now not a man, but a craven--"

  "But you will find me a man, Jetta." De Boer was hugely amused. "SeeGrant, we are rivals! You and Perona, then you and me. It is well foryou that I fear you not, or I would run my knife through you now."

  I could not mistake Jetta's shudder. But De Boer did not see it, forshe covered it by impulsively putting her hand upon his arm.

  "Did you--did you kill my father?" She stumbled over the question. Butshe asked it with a childlike innocence sufficiently real to convincehim.

  "I? Why--" He recovered from his surprise. "Why no, little bird. Whotold you that I did?"

  "No one. I--no one has said anything about it." She added slowly, "Ihoped that it was not you, De Boer."

  "Me? Oh no: it was an accident." He shot me a menacing glance. "I willexplain it all. Jetta. Your father and I were friends for years--"

  "Yes. I know. Often he spoke to me of you. Many times I asked him tolet me meet you."

  * * * * *

  They were ignoring me. But Gutierrez, lurking in the door oval, wasnot: I was well aware of that.

  "I remember you from years ago, little Jetta."

  "And I remember you."

  I understand the rationality of her purpose. She could easily get DeBeer's confidence. She had known him when a child. Her father had beenhis business partner, presumably his friend. And I saw her nowcleverly altering her status here. She had been a captive, allied withme. She was changing that. She was now Spawn's daughter, here with herdead father's friend.

  She turned a gaze of calm aversion upon me. "Unless you want him here,De Boer. I would rather talk to you--without him."