The H. Bedford-Jones Pulp Fiction Megapack

by H. Bedford-Jones

  Neither did I, for the best of reasons.

  “Keep quiet, now!” O’Grady’s voice had an edge of steel to it. He shoved his pistol into my ribs, and took my own weapon.

  “Not a move out of you, me lad! It was the tea that did it, as ye might know; and be thankin’ me that I was too much of a white man to be druggin’ you with it.”

  I was paralyzed, as much by sheer astounded incredulity as by the pistol, for I did not yet understand what was going on. Two figures appeared suddenly before us, O’Grady said something to them, and they calmly took hold of me. Before I could so much as struggle, my hands were bound, so were my ankles, and a gag thrust between my teeth.

  “Set him down again,” said O’Grady. “Go and see that all the rifles of these men are disposed of.”

  The two who had bound me were Japs.

  O’Grady took out his pipe, filled and lighted it, and surveyed me. I thought that there was a regretful expression in his eye, as he sighed and shook his head.

  “Damn it, Breck, I like ye fine, and it goes against the grain to do ye in! But necessity knows no law. If I take out the gag, may I have your word not to be cursin’ me or makin’ any rumpus?”

  I nodded. He leaned forward and promptly removed the gag, much to my relief.

  “Thanks. What’s it all about, now?”

  “Business,” he said laconically. “You and I and Schneider are all in the same boat, and trying to hook the same fish; but I’m no murderer. I made use of ye to get through the Frenchman’s lines, had my own men workin’ and waitin’ for me, and now I’m goin’ on to Kiuling and see French. That’s all, me lad.”

  “Who are you working for, then?” I demanded. “Japs?”

  “I’m workin’ for five thousand pound,” he said, a little wearily.

  “I’ll give you five thousand, then, to side with me,” I said.

  He stared at me, compressed his lips, then shook his head.

  “Sorry, but I’ve a queer notion about honor, Breck. Sorry, for a fact.”

  The odd part of it all was that he really was sorry, too!

  And, as I sat there watching him I felt only pity for the man; there was no anger in me. This queer fish, this likeable, irresponsible, whimsical O’Grady, had tricked and befooled and ensnared me, yet I had not a word of anger for his betrayal. I could see that he was not proud of himself. He had his own little hell inside of his soul.

  Undoubtedly, he had lied from the start.

  He was nothing but an adventurer, a man who had sold his services for a round sum; and that the Japs had entrusted their business to him spoke volumes for his character and ability.

  “I wasn’t back o’ that assassin at Fu-chow,” he said suddenly. “I’d like ye to know that. I’m supposed to be in full charge; if my employers want to put a knife into you, then I’ll stop it if I can. And after this, Breck, we’re quits.”

  “Fair enough,” I told him. “You and your Japs will stop lead, O’Grady, if I get the chance. You haven’t won yet. French won’t sell out to you.”

  He nodded, and chuckled.

  “Yes, he will, too! He thinks Kohler’s gone back on him or forgotten him. He’s hard up and sick to boot. Don’t worry, me lad! Now, I’ll have to take a look at your papers—merely for the sake of information. Also, to destroy any that might be of use to you.”

  I had no papers, as he very soon ascertained, with the exception of Kohler’s order on any Shansi bankers. He looked at it curiously, inspected the seal with a whistle of surprise, and asked what the paper was. I told him. He replaced it in my pocket.

  “I’m robbin’ no man, Breck. Now, I’ll have to leave ye tied up until your men waken. It’ll be only a matter of a few hours, d’ye see. That drugged tea was an excellent notion, what? Rippin’, I call it! I’ll beat you into Kiuling and sign up with French. And what then? Will you make trouble when you come along?”

  I met his level gaze with a smile.

  “My dear O’Grady, I’ll make you trouble until you reach Fuchow again!”

  “I have five men,” he reminded me. “All Japs, and smart. And you’ll have no guns.”

  “Look for trouble when I see you again,” was my rejoinder. He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.

  “Good for ye, me lad! We’ll have a grand fight for it yet, praise be! Now I must be off. The rain is still spatterin’ gently, but it may break into a storm any time and that means bad roads.”

  He was rising, when one of his Japs came excitedly to the tent opening with a rush of eager words. O’Grady seemed to understand the language perfectly. He swore under his breath, gave the Jap a curt, peremptory order, then whirled and seized the gag again.

  “Sorry, old fellow,” he said, as he slipped it in place. “But something’s up—”

  At the same instant, a hail lifted to us from the darkness.

  “Hello the camp! Anybody there speak English?”

  It was a woman’s voice.

  V

  O’Grady darted out of the tent. From where I sat I could see all that passed, for a figure mounted on mule back rode into the circle of firelight and halted not ten feet from the tent. The Japs clustered in the background, staring.

  “Faith, ma’am, it’s a poor welcome we have here for ye,” sang out O’Grady, “but it’s better than none at all! I don’t suppose, by any chance, you’re Miss Janet French, now?”

  “Yes, I’m Miss French.”

  O’Grady introduced himself, as he assisted the visitor to dismount. I could see that he was considerably disconcerted by the encounter; and no wonder! The girl was absolutely alone, too.

  “How did you know me?” demanded the girl, regarding him.

  “I’m on me way now to see your brother, ma’am.”

  “You’ve come from Mr. Kohler?” Her voice was eager, swift with strain.

  “Not a bit of it,” was his cool response. “I’m representin’ a group o’ Japanese interests, Miss Janet; but come inside, for the rain will be comin’ down soon! I’ll have some food and hot tea for ye in no time at all.” He concluded with a sharp snap of orders to his men, who hastened to obey.

  A lantern hung from the tent roof. Miss French came inside, then stopped dead at sight of me, O’Grady was at her elbow. He spoke apologetically.

  “It’s a sorry man I am, Miss Janet, to be havin’ you for a guest here and with things the way they are! This is not my camp, d’ye mind; I only reached here a short bit ago. This poor chap was ravin’, stark, starin’ mad! He’d held a regular opium debauch, it seems. All his muleteers are dead to the world; think o’ the amount of opium they must have used! We got him tied up and he’s quieted down a bit, poor lad! We had just finished destroyin’ all the opium and layouts in sight when you dropped in on us.”

  As he rattled forth this astounding tale, O’Grady tipped me a cheerful wink over the girl’s shoulder.

  She believed the story, of course; why not? I could read belief in the sad, troubled gaze of her as she watched me. A wide-eyed girl she was, all brown and slender and sweet in her fur-trimmed corduroys; a quiet poise in her face took hold of me strongly, and I hardly noted the depth to her eyes nor the gold-red of her massed hair, for I was absorbed and fascinated by her face as a whole. It was not beautiful, but it had power.

  Then I began to struggle with my bonds, furious at that story of O’Grady’s, but could make only a growling noise in my throat.

  “Don’t be afraid of him,” said O’Grady, and chuckled. “Faith, it’s a strong tongue he has on him, but no matter now! We can crowd in a bit beyond. And what in the name of all that’s holy fetched you here alone? Haven’t you any servants?”

  Miss Janet sat down, but still looked at me.

  “He hasn’t the opium pallor,” she observed, then turned. “Oh! Why, I had two mafus, but a tiger crossed the road just ahead of us, an hour ago, and I think they ran away. The poor fellows were terribly afraid. We left Kiuling at noon yesterday, in a great hurry—tell me, Mr. O’Grady, are
you a doctor?”

  The Irishman’s features, finely ascetic of eye and nostril, contracted slightly.

  “No,” he said, almost curtly. “I studied surgery—once. But I know nothing at all about medicine.”

  “Oh, good!” exclaimed the girl eagerly. “You see, my brother, Art, was kicked by a mule yesterday morning. We think his shoulder-blade is broken, but we’re not sure, and the native doctor there is a frightful charlatan, and I don’t know the first thing about setting bones. We’ll have to go right back, now!”

  She leaped to her feet. O’Grady, giving me one expressive glance, smiled and held up a restraining hand. At the tent opening appeared one of his Japs, bearing some tea and food hastily contrived from the preparations of my mafus.

  “I’m your man, if it’s a case o’ bone-setting,” he declared. “But first, we’ll all have a bit and a sup. You’ve been on the go since noon, and I’ve been climbing these dev’lish hill trails since late in the afternoon. You really should have some rest now—”

  She smiled and dissented quickly, although she seated herself and took the food gladly.

  “No! If you’ll go, we’ll start right away.” Her eyes went to me, frowningly. “But should we leave this poor man here? He’s a white man—”

  “Don’t worry,” said O’Grady dryly, flashing me a slight smile. “His men will take care of him right enough. When the rain bursts, it’ll wake the beggars up.”

  I had been inwardly hoping for the same result, but by his mention of it I realized that the hope was vain; that package of tea must have been doped strongly.

  O’Grady looked extremely complacent, as he well might. The luck was playing all into his hands, and he was quite capable of keeping it under control. Then Miss French, who seemed rather concerned about me, suggested another possibility the mention of which really caused me an abrupt uneasiness.

  “But, Mr. O’Grady! If these men are left like this, what about the danger from tigers? They are not at all uncommon hereabouts, you know! We really should leave this whole camp guarded.”

  O’Grady was himself disturbed by the suggestion, as I perceived, but he shrugged.

  “Don’t alarm yourself, clear lady! We’ll leave a big fire blazin’, and the dawn will soon be here. Besides, tigers don’t hunt in a storm, as you very well know.”

  It was evident that she did not know it at all, and neither did O’Grady, but his plausibility checked her protests. Naturally, he wanted to keep all of his five Japs with him. He knew that he would have only a few hours’ start on me, and counted on getting his work done before I reached Kituling. After that, being unarmed, I would have little chance to undo his work by main force. And, if French sold him the formula, only force would avail me.

  Calling up his men, O’Grady issued orders. We had about a dozen mules, since I had been taking supplies and things up to the Frenches. Seven of these were made ready, and when he had wrapped Miss Janet in a blanket as protection against the rain, O’Grady took her out to her mule.

  He came back in a moment and leaned over me.

  “Breck, you’ll have to chance tiger, though I fancy that fire will hold off any wanderin’ stripes until dawn. Sorry to blacken your character, old chap, but needs must when the divil drives! Ta-ta. I hope Schneider won’t catch up with ye before your men wake up.”

  Schneider! That was a new worry. I had thought Schneider in the discard, but evidently O’Grady thought otherwise.

  He left me, sang out a cheery order to his men, and the whole train of them vanished into the darkness. The wind was beginning to whistle now, and the raindrops pattered more thickly on the tent.

  Having already convinced myself thoroughly that any exertion toward loosening my bonds would be only futile and wasted effort, I sat quietly and set myself to wait for the dawn, which could not be more than an hour or so away. The lantern was high and out of reach, even had I been inclined to burn my bonds, which I was not; they were leather thongs, and I was certainly no Scaevola. So I sat staring out at the flickering light of the fire, and the obscure, motionless figures about it.

  How the luck had played against me! I cherished no particular resentment against O’Grady for his use of me and his betrayal of me; all that, in a way, was part of the game, as I could now see. He had been very clever, and I had been an ass; although I could scarce have been expected to suspect a man of his type being in Japanese hire. I wondered what James Sze Kohler would say about it when he heard the story.

  The element of luck, however, had broken against me when Janet French came on the scene. Had she come five minutes earlier, O’Grady’s fine little scheme might have been disarranged entirely. As it was, everything now lay plainly ahead of him—clear sailing!

  Her words showed that French had been hoping for some messenger from Kohler.

  “Probably the Japs have been watching the mail through their own postal service here,” I reflected. “Any letters that French had sent out, were probably held up and destroyed. It looks to me as though Kohler had for once slipped up rather badly. Even if I get through to Kiuling by some miracle, I haven’t a single thing to back up my word! How will French know that I come from Kohler? Damn it!”

  Everything fitted in very nicely for that confounded Irishman. He would get to Kiuling and would promptly take care of French’s injuries, and would as promptly buy the lac secret from the grateful man. But was that formula all of it? I began to doubt. Even as a trade secret, it was not a big enough thing to justify all the expenditure of money and effort that was being put forth in three quarters.

  One good thing, O’Grady was straight. If it had been Schneider, now, I might have been worried; the Dubonnet agent would have used Miss Janet to force the secret out of French, or some such trick. I was thankful that, if I had to be beaten, the licking would come from a man like O’Grady. I was not through with him, either; after leaving Kiuling, he had to reach the river again, and if I had the power he would never take that formula with him.

  As I stared, I thought suddenly that I had seen something move near the fire. The tiger-thought flashed into my brain, and frightened me. I was absolutely helpless, and knew that the brutes were bold. Nothing came of it, however; I saw nothing further move, and was reassured. Then, as it happened, the rain lessened the fire and began to quench it. Because of the storm, dawn would be long in coming. My position was unenviable. Added to all this, O’Grady’s suggestion that Schneider might still be coming along was rather disturbing. He was no such antagonist as O’Grady; if he found me in this plight, he would see to it that I was totally put out of the game. Now I could quite comprehend O’Grady’s fervent dislike of Schneider from the very start. And I could guess what it was Schneider had tried to shout at me, about O’Grady, when we passed his hung-up boat on the river. It must have insufferably maddened the Dubonnet agent to see O’Grady using me as a cat’s paw!

  Just here, I felt something brush against the tent, then touch me, and I must have jumped upright where I sat.

  VI

  Now a dark figure uprose between me and the dying firelight.

  “All right, master! It is Yu.” I relaxed. Yu! He chuckled softly as his fingers felt for my wrists, and a knife slipped across the thongs. Then he had the gag out from between my aching jaws.

  “Ah! That’s good. How the devil does it happen you aren’t drugged?” He chuckled again.

  “I suspected—too late. The other men had drunk while I was helping you here. When the Japs came, I knew that I was helpless against so many, so I shammed sleep. Now, master, stretch yourself, while I make tea and get some chocolate.”

  If I had eaten with O’Grady, he had not. He slipped away again, and was busy for a while about the fire, while I rubbed life into my wrists and ankles once more.

  Clever Yu! How I blessed him in this moment!

  He was back again in no time, with some chocolate and two pannikins of tea. He squatted down under the tent lantern, grinned at me, and sipped his tea.

  �
��What now, master?”

  “Any chance of getting those men waked up?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not for many hours at least. It is almost dawn now. They would not be in shape to set out until noon or after.”

  I drank the tea he handed me.

  “If we had any arms, I’d set out after O’Grady,” I said. “But we haven’t a thing—”

  Yu chuckled. “Master, there are two extra pistols in one of the packs. Also, when I knew that trouble was at hand, I hid my rifle under the leaves near the fire, and the Japs did not find it.”

  At this information, I started.

  “By my hand, Yu! If we win out yet, I’ll give you a hundred in gold for this night’s work! Can you and I follow the trail?”

  He nodded, grinning all over his half bearded countenance.

  “Yes, master, and there are some rubber ponchos in a pack, which O’Grady knew nothing about.”

  I laughed suddenly.

  “Yu, you’re a miracle worker! If you could produce a fresh mule or two—”

  “There is one, master,” and he pointed. “That on which Miss French came. She rode downhill most of the way and the animal is not nearly so weary as ours. You can take that mule, and I will take one of the others, for I am light and you are heavy.”

  “Good! Then get the ponchos, and the pistols. I’ll help saddle up, and we’ll be off in five minutes. If O’Grady can travel without sleep, I guess we can too.”

  Fortunately, the Irishman had had no opportunity to go through everything in camp. I found no lack of vestas, filled my pocket with cigars, stuck in some extra cartridges and chocolate and a flask of brandy, and donned the poncho which Yu brought me. Then I took one of the wide grass-hats of the muleteers, and could snap my fingers at the rain.

  We got the two mules saddled, built up the fire in order to protect the sleeping men against beasts, and were ready to leave.