Mr. Moto Omnibus

by John P. Marquand

  18

  MISS DILLAWAY had been sitting on a packing box, and now she was on her feet hurrying toward him.

  “Calvin,” she called, “Calvin Gates!”

  He knew that she was glad to see him and she was not angry any more, but what surprised him was his own pleasure at seeing her. It was as though nothing else mattered. Something about her made his heart pound in his throat. She was not even pretending that she was not glad to see him. She had forgotten to be brisk and casual, just as she had forgotten once before.

  “Hello, Dillaway,” he said again. “I’ve come to get you out of this.”

  “Have you?” she answered. “You’re the only one I know who’d be fool enough to try.” But the edge had left her voice. At first he thought she was laughing at him, and then he saw she was not.

  “I’m afraid,” she said, “I’ve been so damned afraid.”

  “It’s going to be all right,” said Calvin. “We’ll get out of here. Nobody’s going to hurt you. It might be a whole lot worse.”

  “I’ve been so damned afraid,” Miss Dillaway said, “and I don’t like it, and I wouldn’t admit it to anybody else but you, and I suppose you’re pleased.”

  The old sharpness was returning to her voice, but still he felt contented, because it told him that he had brought her confidence. She had as good as admitted that there was something in those qualities of his which she had ridiculed.

  “I’m awfully glad to see you,” Calvin said. “I never knew I’d be so glad.”

  His remark sounded futile. He reached toward her and touched her shoulder.

  “Dillaway,” he began, “if we ever get out of this—”

  She pushed his hand away, but she held it tight for a moment.

  “If we ever get out of this, I’m going to keep an eye on you,” she said. “You need some sort of a guardian. I’ve been hearing about you, Gates. Don’t you see who’s in here with us? Don’t you see Dr. Gilbreth?”

  He had not noticed anyone else since he had set eyes on her, but now he saw a short, stocky man standing near them in a rumpled gray suit.

  “Hello, Gilbreth,” he said, “what are you doing here?” He was scarcely surprised, because nothing any longer surprised him, but there was the man whom he had traveled halfway around the world to meet, and whose face had not been wholly out of his memory for a long time. Somehow he had expected it to be changed, but there it was exactly as it had been in the past, and not such a very distant past either. There was Dr. Gilbreth, the eminent scholar, the lecturer and explorer, staring at him and making the past the present. There was the same long nose, the same thin grayish hair, the same long, weak, and studious mouth, and Calvin Gates had his old sense of amazement as to what a girl who was young and good-looking could ever have seen in such a man. He certainly did not look well then. He was no longer a dinner guest, talking about his travels; he was dirty and haggard and his face was covered with a stubble of beard.

  “What am I doing here?” he said. “I’m in a den of thieves, and so are you—in case you don’t know it. The Prince—have you seen the Prince?—have you seen Captain Hamby? They’re holding the whole expedition up for ransom. They’ve made me cable for funds. I’m going down with Hamby to the bank to draw them tomorrow morning. Don’t ask me if there isn’t anything else I can do. There isn’t except to pay up and get out. There isn’t any way to get help. There isn’t anything. It isn’t any joke, Gates. The Prince means business.”

  “I guess he does,” said Calvin. “He seems like a very remarkable man.”

  “He means business,” said Dr. Gilbreth. “I thought I knew how to handle the natives. Everything was quiet enough in Mongolia two years ago and now it’s anarchy. What did they throw you in here for, Gates?”

  Calvin Gates shrugged his shoulders.

  “It’s Captain Hamby’s idea,” he said. “It looks as though the American flag won’t do much good tonight, but I’m grateful to Hamby just the same. I wanted to see you, Gilbreth, and he promised I would. He’s kept that part of his promise.”

  Dr. Gilbreth looked surprised. He looked at Calvin Gates and looked away.

  “I don’t understand you,” he said. “You’re not serious when you say you came all this way to see me personally. Wouldn’t a letter or a cable have done just as well?”

  “I don’t think so,” Calvin Gates answered. He was reaching the point at last and with it the end of his journey. Yet now that it was time to speak he had his old desire to remain silent. “It’s a delicate matter,” he said. “It concerns our family. You can help us, Dr. Gilbreth.”

  Dr. Gilbreth looked puzzled. Calvin wondered if the Doctor understood. He was trying to think of some method of putting everything delicately, but he could think of none.

  “You mean your family sent you out to see me?” Dr. Gilbreth asked. “I don’t understand. There was absolutely nothing—”

  “I don’t blame you for being surprised,” said Calvin Gates. “We’re such a long way from where we started, aren’t we? It’s hard to think back that far. They didn’t send me, I came out myself.”

  “But why?” said Dr. Gilbreth. “I don’t understand why.”

  Calvin Gates hesitated, still trying to choose words.

  “Please excuse me for being so slow,” he said. “It’s rather hard to talk about. I’d give a good deal if I didn’t have to. When you were raising funds for your expedition out here, we were all interested, you remember.” He paused. It was not necessary to go into the details, because there was no doubt that Dr. Gilbreth remembered a good deal more than had been mentioned.

  “You can’t do things like this without money,” Dr. Gilbreth said.

  “I know,” Calvin Gates agreed. “I don’t criticize you. I’m not blaming you—for being interesting.”

  Dr. Gilbreth looked embarrassed.

  “Go ahead, Gates,” he said. “I know you’re talking about that check.”

  “How do you know,” Calvin asked, “that I’m talking about a check? Have you heard anything about it?”

  “Never mind,” said Dr. Gilbreth. “I want to know what you’re getting at.”

  “All right,” said Calvin, and his own voice reflected the other’s impatience. “My cousin, Bella Gates, gave you a check as a contribution to your funds. I wish it hadn’t been so large, but it was, ten thousand dollars. She got it for you because you said you needed that money very badly.”

  “I wish I hadn’t put the thing so strongly,” Dr. Gilbreth said. “I never intended—”

  “Never mind about that,” said Calvin. “I’m not criticizing and there’s no reason to come to personalities. I don’t care what she said to you, or what you said to her. She gave you a check for your expedition which was signed by her father. He’s my uncle, Dr. Gilbreth, and I think a great deal of him. I’d like you to remember that. That check was honored by the bank. It’s no concern of yours at all.” He paused again. He did not like to appeal to Dr. Gilbreth or to anybody else, and he went straight ahead, no longer trying to choose his words.

  “On the first of the month when the vouchers came in, that check was found to be a forgery, and that’s why I’m here. I announced that I had forged that check before I left.” He paused again and cleared his throat. “It came as rather of a shock, and now it looks as though the bank has taken the matter out of the family’s hands. The authorities are investigating. You’re certain to be asked questions because you know more about the circumstances. It’s a delicate matter. We think a good deal of the family and my uncle brought me up, and he’s had to put up with a good deal from me. When you are questioned I want you to say that I am the only one who could have forged that check. I can give you all the details, but I want you to be positive.”

  He waited, but Dr. Gilbreth did not answer, and Calvin Gates continued.

  “You told us you couldn’t be reached by cable for three or four weeks at a time,” he said, “and I hope you were correct. When I left to come here I thought this
whole business would be a skeleton in the family closet and the least said the better. Something must have happened back home. It seems this isn’t the first time that there’s been a forgery. I only found out the other day that the police at home were looking for me. It made it all the more important that I should see you. I didn’t think the old man would do anything like that. He must have lost his temper. You have been out of touch, haven’t you? You haven’t heard anything about it? I’m taking my medicine for this, and I want to be sure I take it. From everything I’ve seen, they don’t bother much about forgers here.”

  Dr. Gilbreth was blankly silent. He started to speak and checked himself, and stared at Calvin Gates as though he had encountered an entirely new member of the human species.

  “But you didn’t,” he said. “I know you didn’t forge it and I know who did.”

  The time and the place made no difference now that he and Dr. Gilbreth were face to face. He was living again in a world which he was leaving forever, where nothing had mattered much but manners and security.

  He was living through a good part of his past in the silence that followed. His mind moved through days and nights that were irrevocably gone before he answered.

  “You’re mistaken,” said Calvin, “I did it,” and then he added a remark which might have been inconsequential if both of them had not understood. “She was crazy about you, Gilbreth.”

  Dr. Gilbreth still looked at him as though he were an unknown type of human being excavated from the ruins of some vanished civilization.

  “I don’t understand you.” Dr. Gilbreth’s voice was embarrassed and incredulous. “I’m damned if I understand what you want. It’s embarrassing to me. No matter how you look at it, there’s going to be talk, but it had nothing to do with you. Do you mean to stand here seriously and tell me that you came out to this God-forsaken place in order to get me to help you to ruin yourself? There’s no one alive who would do such a fool thing as that. I won’t believe it. I can’t believe it, Gates.”

  Miss Dillaway’s voice chimed in suddenly.

  “Well, I believe it,” she said. “It’s just the sort of thing he would do. It’s just the sort of chance you’d jump at, isn’t it, Gates?”

  He had not intended anyone to hear that conversation. When all his motives were analyzed by an outside mind they appeared almost ludicrous, and besides it was a matter between himself and his own conscience. Now that he had spoken to Gilbreth, he had committed himself once and for all. He had been tempted not to, ever since he had seen Miss Dillaway, but he had spoken.

  “This is something you don’t know anything about,” he said. “For once in my life I’ve finished something I started.”

  “Oh yes, I understand,” said Miss Dillaway. “We were talking about you, Gates.”

  Dr. Gilbreth’s face was still incredulous.

  “But you haven’t any motive for doing such a thing,” he said. “You didn’t even like her. You two hardly spoke.”

  “Does it make any difference?” Calvin answered. “That’s entirely up to me. I did it for the old man, if you want to know. I don’t amount to much back home, but I think a lot of him. It’s better this way.”

  There was a silence, as though no one could find an answer, and the silence was so long that Calvin spoke again.

  “I suppose you think I’m a fool,” he said, “but it doesn’t matter. After all, that’s up to me. It’s the first positive thing I’ve ever done. That’s something.”

  He had said as little as possible, for it was a subject which did not bear discussion, and yet he had an uncomfortable feeling that he had said everything, and perhaps too much.

  “You’re not a fool,” said Miss Dillaway. There was a catch in her voice like laughter, but she was not laughing. “And I wouldn’t have you different. The only trouble is that you need someone to look out for you. You’re just not a type that can walk around alone. And for once in your life you’re too late. You’d better tell him, Gilbreth.” Dr. Gilbreth hesitated.

  “Go ahead,” said Miss Dillaway, “tell him, Gilbreth.”

  “I was reached by cable a week ago,” Dr. Gilbreth said. “I didn’t know you were coming out here, and I’m glad I didn’t know. I wired the facts in self-protection.” Dr. Gilbreth shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I’m not a gentleman. Maybe it’s better not to be. And I got an answer back before the wires were cut. I’ve got it in my pocket. You can read it if you like.”

  He handed Calvin Gates a piece of paper on which a few words were scrawled in pencil.

  Your communication explains situation here stop have taken measures stop rely on your discretion stop to save scandal have stated I signed check and bookkeeper lost record stop authorities accept this explanation stop communicate this my nephew worried about him stop should have consulted me first tell idiot return at once funds forwarded him at Shanghai Roger Gates.

  As Calvin stared at the sheet of paper the whole affair assumed an artificial quality—as though it had all been done by someone else.

  “I’m sorry,” he said slowly, still staring at the paper. “It would have been better if he hadn’t known.”

  “Would it?” said Dr. Gilbreth. “How do you know it would? At any rate, it’s over now, and there’s nothing you can do.”

  “Think of that,” said Miss Dillaway. “Nothing you can do.” He thought that she was laughing at him, but again she was not laughing.

  Now that it was finished he could see his whole course of action objectively, as though someone else had taken it, and it seemed quixotic and absurd, like something he might have done when he was much younger. He could not even remember what there had been about it that had once stirred him so deeply. His impulse no longer had validity; instead he discovered something close to egotism in his ideas of family and honor.

  “Dillaway,” he said, “I think I’m getting tired of chivalry.”

  “Well,” said Miss Dillaway, “it’s time you were.”

  19

  “ANYWAY,” HE SAID, “I met you, Dillaway, and I’m going to get you out of this.”

  “There you go,” said Miss Dillaway, “starting out again.”

  Calvin Gates stared about the bare, dimly lighted shed. He had half forgotten where they were, until she made the last remark.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m through with that, and I’m through with being what I was.”

  Dr. Gilbreth had begun to pace up and down the shed.

  “Haven’t we talked enough about you?” he inquired. “What’s going on out there? What are they trying to do?”

  Calvin looked at his wrist watch without answering.

  “What’s the matter?” Miss Dillaway asked. “Have you got an appointment, Gates?”

  “I may have,” said Calvin Gates, “in about five minutes.” He did not wish to enlarge upon the subject, and he did not wish to be asked questions. “So you gave Hamby the cigarette case? I wish we had it now.”

  “Well, you can have it if you like,” she answered.

  “Not here,” he answered. “Don’t say that. It isn’t even funny—if I could get my hands on that case—”

  “I mean it,” she said. “I’ve got it if you want it. It’s right here in my purse.”

  She opened her purse and handed him the cigarette case. There it was in silver and black with the same birds that he remembered.

  “But why didn’t he take it from you?” Calvin, cried. He knew Captain Hamby well enough to know that he would not have hesitated.

  “I thought it might be useful, that’s why I kept it,” she answered. “Captain Hamby isn’t so clever.”

  “But how did you keep it?” Calvin said. “I don’t understand.”

  “It isn’t being very bright if you don’t,” Miss Dillaway retorted. “Don’t you remember that I had a cigarette case of my own, which I bought in Tokyo, with the same type of inlay—that’s the one I gave him. Why are you looking at it that way? It won’t burn your fingers.”

  As
he stood there staring at the piece of silver his hands began to tremble. It was so completely unexpected that he could not think consecutively. She stood looking at him with a grim sort of triumph and with her old air of superiority.

  “I’m not such an idiot, you know, Gates,” she said.

  “I never said you were,” he answered, “but I never thought of this.”

  “Well, try to think back,” said Miss Dillaway. “It’s simple enough. When Boris offered me that cigarette case on the train you heard me tell him I had a case of my own.”

  “Yes,” said Calvin, “I remember.”

  He could remember quite clearly now that she mentioned it, but the very simplicity of what had happened made it the more surprising. He stared at the cigarette case and back at Miss Dillaway again.

  “Don’t you believe me?” she said impatiently. “There it is.”

  “But why didn’t you give him this one,” he asked, “when Hamby asked you?”

  She gave her head a quick, impatient shake.

  “Because I didn’t like the way he asked for it, if you want to know,” she answered. “He was so sure he was going to get it that he didn’t even bother to be polite. He didn’t even bother to be impolite, either. I suppose you think that women aren’t much use, Gates. That’s what most of you romanticists think. You needn’t act as though you wished you had thought of it yourself. If you want it, there it is—a present. Aren’t you going to thank me?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I haven’t got time. I’m sorry. I’m trying to think. I want to remember every detail on this case.”

  The whole thing was completely in keeping with her character. She had always said that she could look out for herself, and she had come very close to doing it. It was as though he had drawn a card to fill a poker hand when the last of his money lay upon the table, and she had given him the card. She had given him a key to let them out of prison. It was better than the bargain he had made with Hamby. If that failed, the cigarette case was still in his hands.