The Little Nugget

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The Little Nugget Page 11

by P. G. Wodehouse


  Chapter 9

  I

  It was only after many hours of thought that it had flashed uponme that the simplest and safest way of removing the Little Nuggetwas to induce him to remove himself. Once the idea had come, therest was simple. The negotiations which had taken place thatmorning in the stable-yard had been brief. I suppose a boy inOgden's position, with his record of narrow escapes from thekidnapper, comes to take things as a matter of course which wouldstartle the ordinary boy. He assumed, I imagine, that I was theaccredited agent of his mother, and that the money which I gavehim for travelling expenses came from her. Perhaps he had beenexpecting something of the sort. At any rate, he grasped theessential points of the scheme with amazing promptitude. Hislittle hand was extended to receive the cash almost before I hadfinished speaking.

  The main outline of my plan was that he should slip away toLondon, during the afternoon, go to my rooms, where he would findSmith, and with Smith travel to his mother at Monaco. I hadwritten to Smith, bidding him be in readiness for the expedition.There was no flaw in the scheme as I had mapped it out, and thoughOgden had complicated it a little by gratuitously luring awayAugustus Beckford to bear him company, he had not endangered itssuccess.

  But now an utterly unforeseen complication had arisen. My onedesire now was to undo everything for which I had been plotting.

  I stood there, looking at her dumbly, hating myself for being thecause of the anxiety in her eyes. If I had struck her, I could nothave felt more despicable. In my misery I cursed Cynthia forleading me into this tangle.

  I heard my name spoken, and turned to find White at my elbow.

  'Mr Abney would like to see you, sir.'

  I went upstairs, glad to escape. The tension of the situation hadbegun to tear at my nerves.

  'Cub id, Bister Burds,' said my employer, swallowing a lozenge.His aspect was more dazed than ever. 'White has just badean--ah--extraordinary cobbudicatiod to me. It seebs he is inreality a detective, an employee of Pidkertod's Agedcy, of whichyou have, of course--ah--heard.'

  So White had revealed himself. On the whole, I was not surprised.Certainly his motive for concealment, the fear of making Mr Abneynervous, was removed. An inrush of Red Indians with tomahawkscould hardly have added greatly to Mr Abney's nervousness at thepresent juncture.

  'Sent here by Mr Ford, I suppose?' I said. I had to say something.

  'Exactly. Ah--precisely.' He sneezed. 'Bister Ford, withoutcodsulting me--I do not cobbedt on the good taste or wisdob of hisactiod--dispatched White to apply for the post of butler atthis--ah--house, his predecessor having left at a bobedt's dotice,bribed to do so, I strodgly suspect, by Bister Ford himself. I baybe wrodging Bister Ford, but do dot thig so.'

  I thought the reasoning sound.

  'All thad, however,' resumed Mr Abney, removing his face from ajug of menthol at which he had been sniffing with the tenseconcentration of a dog at a rabbit-hole, 'is beside the poidt. Iberely bedtiod it to explaid why White will accompady you toLondon.'

  'What!'

  The exclamation was forced from me by my dismay. This wasappalling. If this infernal detective was to accompany me, mychance of bringing Ogden back was gone. It had been my intentionto go straight to my rooms, in the hope of finding him not yetdeparted. But how was I to explain his presence there to White?

  'I don't think it's necessary, Mr Abney,' I protested. 'I am sureI can manage this affair by myself.'

  'Two heads are better thad wud,' said the invalid sententiously,burying his features in the jug once more.

  'Too many cooks spoil the broth,' I replied. If the conversationwas to consist of copybook maxims, I could match him as long as hepleased.

  He did not keep up the intellectual level of the discussion.

  'Dodseds!' he snapped, with the irritation of a man whose proverbhas been capped by another. I had seldom heard him speak sosharply. White's revelation had evidently impressed him. He hadall the ordinary peaceful man's reverence for the professionaldetective.

  'White will accompany you, Bister Burds,' he said doggedly.

  'Very well,' I said.

  After all, it might be that I should get an opportunity of givinghim the slip. London is a large city.

  A few minutes later the cab arrived, and White and I set forth onour mission.

  We did not talk much in the cab. I was too busy with my thoughtsto volunteer remarks, and White, apparently, had meditations ofhis own to occupy him.

  It was when we had settled ourselves in an empty compartment andthe train had started that he found speech. I had provided myselfwith a book as a barrier against conversation, and began at onceto make a pretence of reading, but he broke through my defences.

  'Interesting book, Mr Burns?'

  'Very,' I said.

  'Life's more interesting than books.'

  I made no comment on this profound observation. He was notdiscouraged.

  'Mr Burns,' he said, after the silence had lasted a few moments.

  'Yes?'

  'Let's talk for a spell. These train-journeys are pretty slow.'

  Again I seemed to detect that curious undercurrent of meaning inhis voice which I had noticed in the course of our brief exchangeof remarks in the hall. I glanced up and met his eye. He waslooking at me in a way that struck me as curious. There wassomething in those bright brown eyes of his which had the effectof making me vaguely uneasy. Something seemed to tell me that hehad a definite motive in forcing his conversation on me.

  'I guess I can interest you a heap more than that book, even ifit's the darndest best seller that was ever hatched.'

  'Oh!'

  He lit a cigarette.

  'You didn't want me around on this trip, did you?'

  'It seemed rather unnecessary for both of us to go,' I saidindifferently. 'Still, perhaps two heads are better than one, asMr Abney remarked. What do you propose to do when you get toLondon?'

  He bent forward and tapped me on the knee.

  'I propose to stick to you like a label on a bottle, sonny,' hesaid. 'That's what I propose to do.'

  'What do you mean?'

  I was finding it difficult, such is the effect of a guiltyconscience, to meet his eye, and the fact irritated me.

  'I want to find out that address you gave the Ford kid thismorning out in the stable-yard.'

  It is strange how really literal figurative expressions are. I hadread stories in which some astonished character's heart leapedinto his mouth. For an instant I could have supposed that mine hadactually done so. The illusion of some solid object blocking up mythroat was extraordinarily vivid, and there certainly seemed to bea vacuum in the spot where my heart should have been. Not for asubstantial reward could I have uttered a word at that moment. Icould not even breathe. The horrible unexpectedness of the blowhad paralysed me.

  White, however, was apparently prepared to continue the chatwithout my assistance.

  'I guess you didn't know I was around, or you wouldn't have talkedthat way. Well, I was, and I heard every word you said. Here wasthe money, you said, and he was to take it and break for London,and go to the address on this card, and your pal Smith would lookafter him. I guess there had been some talk before that, but Ididn't arrive in time to hear it. But I heard all I wanted, exceptthat address. And that's what I'm going to find out when we get toLondon.'

  He gave out this appalling information in a rich and soothingvoice, as if it were some ordinary commonplace. To me it seemed toend everything. I imagined I was already as good as under arrest.What a fool I had been to discuss such a matter in a place like astable yard, however apparently empty. I might have known that ata school there are no empty places.

  'I must say it jarred me when I heard you pulling that stuff,'continued White. 'I haven't what you might call a childlike faithin my fellow-man as a rule, but it had never occurred to me for amoment that you could be playing that game. It only shows,' headded philosophically, 'that you've got to suspect everybody whenit comes to a gilt-edged proposition like the
Little Nugget.'

  The train rattled on. I tried to reduce my mind to working order,to formulate some plan, but could not.

  Beyond the realization that I was in the tightest corner of mylife, I seemed to have lost the power of thought.

  White resumed his monologue.

  'You had me guessing,' he admitted. 'I couldn't figure you out.First thing, of course, I thought you must be working in with BuckMacGinnis and his crowd. Then all that happened tonight, and I sawthat, whoever you might be working in with, it wasn't Buck. Andnow I've placed you. You're not in with any one. You're justplaying it by yourself. I shouldn't mind betting this was yourfirst job, and that you saw your chance of making a pile byholding up old man Ford, and thought it was better thanschoolmastering, and grabbed it.'

  He leaned forward and tapped me on the knee again. There wassomething indescribably irritating in the action. As one who hashad experience, I can state that, while to be arrested at all isbad, to be arrested by a detective with a fatherly manner ismaddening.

  'See here,' he said, 'we must get together over this business.'

  I suppose it was the recollection of the same words in the mouthof Buck MacGinnis that made me sit up with a jerk and stare athim.

  'We'll make a great team,' he said, still in that same cosy voice.'If ever there was a case of fifty-fifty, this is it. You've gotthe kid, and I've got you. I can't get away with him without yourhelp, and you can't get away with him unless you square me. It's astand-off. The only thing is to sit in at the game together andshare out. Does it go?'

  He beamed kindly on my bewilderment during the space of time ittakes to select a cigarette and light a match. Then, blowing acontented puff of smoke, he crossed his legs and leaned back.

  'When I told you I was a Pinkerton's man, sonny,' he said, 'Imissed the cold truth by about a mile. But you caught me shootingoff guns in the grounds, and it was up to me to say something.'

  He blew a smoke-ring and watched it dreamily till it melted in thedraught from the ventilator.

  'I'm Smooth Sam Fisher,' he said.

  II

  When two emotions clash, the weaker goes to the wall. Any surpriseI might have felt was swallowed up in my relief. If I had been atliberty to be astonished, my companion's information would nodoubt have astonished me. But I was not. I was so relieved that hewas not a Pinkerton's man that I did not really care what else hemight be.

  'It's always been a habit of mine, in these little matters,' hewent on, 'to let other folks do the rough work, and chip in myselfwhen they've cleared the way. It saves trouble and expense. Idon't travel with a gang, like that bone-headed Buck. What's theuse of a gang? They only get tumbling over each other and spoilingeverything. Look at Buck! Where is he? Down and out. While I--'

  He smiled complacently. His manner annoyed me. I objected to beinglooked upon as a humble cat's paw by this bland scoundrel.

  'While you--what?' I said.

  He looked at me in mild surprise.

  'Why, I come in with you, sonny, and take my share like agentleman.'

  'Do you!'

  'Well, don't I?'

  He looked at me in the half-reproachful half-affectionate mannerof the kind old uncle who reasons with a headstrong nephew.

  'Young man,' he said, 'you surely aren't thinking you can put oneover on me in this business? Tell me, you don't take me for thatsort of ivory-skulled boob? Do you imagine for one instant, sonny,that I'm not next to every move in this game? Are you deludingyourself with the idea that this thing isn't a perfect cinch forme? Let's hear what's troubling you. You seem to have gotten somefoolish ideas in your head. Let's talk it over quietly.'

  'If you have no objection,' I said, 'no. I don't want to talk toyou, Mr Fisher. I don't like you, and I don't like your way ofearning your living. Buck MacGinnis was bad enough, but at leasthe was a straightforward tough. There's no excuse for you.'

  'Surely we are unusually righteous this p.m., are we not?' saidSam suavely.

  I did not answer.

  'Is this not mere professional jealousy?'

  This was too much for me.

  'Do you imagine for a moment that I'm doing this for money?'

  'I did have that impression. Was I wrong? Do you kidnap the sonsof millionaires for your health?'

  'I promised that I would get this boy back to his mother. That iswhy I gave him the money to go to London. And that is why my valetwas to have taken him to--to where Mrs Ford is.'

  He did not reply in words, but if ever eyebrows spoke, his said,'My dear sir, really!' I could not remain silent under theirpatent disbelief.

  'That's the simple truth,' I said.

  He shrugged his shoulders, as who would say, 'Have it your ownway. Let us change the subject.'

  'You say "was to have taken". Have you changed your plans?'

  'Yes, I'm going to take the boy back to the school.'

  He laughed--a rich, rolling laugh. His double chin shookcomfortably.

  'It won't do,' he said, shaking his head with humorous reproach.'It won't do.'

  'You don't believe me?'

  'Frankly, I do not.'

  'Very well,' I said, and began to read my book.

  'If you want to give me the slip,' he chuckled, 'you must dobetter than that. I can see you bringing the Nugget back to theschool.'

  'You will, if you wait,' I said.

  'I wonder what that address was that you gave him,' he mused.'Well, I shall soon know.'

  He lapsed into silence. The train rolled on. I looked at my watch.London was not far off now.

  'The present arrangement of equal division,' said Sam, breaking along silence, 'holds good, of course, only in the event of yourquitting this fool game and doing the square thing by me. Let meput it plainly. We are either partners or competitors. It is foryou to decide. If you will be sensible and tell me that address, Iwill pledge my word--'

  'Your word!' I said scornfully.

  'Honour among thieves!' replied Sam, with unruffled geniality. 'Iwouldn't double-cross you for worlds. If, however, you think youcan manage without my assistance, it will then be my melancholyduty to beat you to the kid, and collect him and the moneyentirely on my own account. Am I to take it,' he said, as I wassilent, 'that you prefer war to an alliance?'

  I turned a page of my book and went on reading.

  'If Youth but knew!' he sighed. 'Young man, I am nearly twice yourage, and I have, at a modest estimate, about ten times as muchsense. Yet, in your overweening self-confidence, with yourungovernable gall, you fancy you can hand me a lemon. _Me!_ Ishould smile!'

  'Do,' I said. 'Do, while you can.'

  He shook his head reprovingly.

  'You will not be so fresh, sonny, in a few hours. You will bebiting pieces out of yourself, I fear. And later on, when myautomobile splashes you with mud in Piccadilly, you will taste thefull bitterness of remorse. Well, Youth must buy its experience, Isuppose!'

  I looked across at him as he sat, plump and rosy and complacent,puffing at his cigarette, and my heart warmed to the old ruffian.It was impossible to maintain an attitude of righteous icinesswith him. I might loathe his mode of life, and hate him as arepresentative--and a leading representative--of one of the mostcontemptible trades on earth, but there was a sunny charm aboutthe man himself which made it hard to feel hostile to him as anindividual.

  I closed my book with a bang and burst out laughing.

  'You're a wonder!' I said.

  He beamed at what he took to be evidence that I was coming roundto the friendly and sensible view of the matter.

  'Then you think, on consideration--' he said. 'Excellent! Now, mydear young man, all joking aside, you will take me with you tothat address, will you not? You observe that I do not ask you togive it to me. Let there be not so much as the faintest odour ofthe double-cross about this business. All I ask is that you allowme to accompany you to where the Nugget is hidden, and then relyon my wider experience of this sort of game to get him safely awayand open negotiations with the dad.'


  'I suppose your experience has been wide?' I said.

  'Quite tolerably--quite tolerably.'

  'Doesn't it ever worry you the anxiety and misery you cause?'

  'Purely temporary, both. And then, look at it in another way.Think of the joy and relief of the bereaved parents when sonnycomes toddling home again! Surely it is worth some temporarydistress to taste that supreme happiness? In a sense, you mightcall me a human benefactor. I teach parents to appreciate theirchildren. You know what parents are. Father gets caught short insteel rails one morning. When he reaches home, what does he do? Heeases his mind by snapping at little Willie. Mrs Van First-Familyforgets to invite mother to her freak-dinner. What happens? Mothertakes it out of William. They love him, maybe, but they are tooused to him. They do not realize all he is to them. And then, oneafternoon, he disappears. The agony! The remorse! "How could Iever have told our lost angel to stop his darned noise!" moansfather. "I struck him!" sobs mother. "With this jewelled hand Ispanked our vanished darling!" "We were not worthy to have him,"they wail together. "But oh, if we could but get him back!" Wellthey do. They get him back as soon as ever they care to comeacross in unmarked hundred-dollar bills. And after that they thinktwice before working off their grouches on the poor kid. So Ibring universal happiness into the home. I don't say fatherdoesn't get a twinge every now and then when he catches sight ofthe hole in his bank balance, but, darn it, what's money for ifit's not to spend?'

  He snorted with altruistic fervour.

  'What makes you so set on kidnapping Ogden Ford?' I asked. 'I knowhe is valuable, but you must have made your pile by this time. Igather that you have been practising your particular brand ofphilanthropy for a good many years. Why don't you retire?'

  He sighed.

  'It is the dream of my life to retire, young man. You may notbelieve me, but my instincts are thoroughly domestic. When I havethe leisure to weave day-dreams, they centre around a cosy littlehome with a nice porch and stationary washtubs.'

  He regarded me closely, as if to decide whether I was worthy ofthese confidences. There was something wistful in his brown eyes.I suppose the inspection must have been favourable, or he was in amood when a man must unbosom himself to someone, for he proceededto open his heart to me. A man in his particular line of business,I imagine, finds few confidants, and the strain probably becomesintolerable at times.

  'Have you ever experienced the love of a good woman, sonny? It's awonderful thing.' He brooded sentimentally for a moment, thencontinued, and--to my mind--somewhat spoiled the impressiveness ofhis opening words. 'The love of a good woman,' he said, 'is aboutthe darnedest wonderful lay-out that ever came down the pike. Iknow. I've had some.'

  A spark from his cigarette fell on his hand. He swore a startledoath.

  'We came from the same old town,' he resumed, having recoveredfrom this interlude. 'Used to be kids at the same school ...Walked to school together ... me carrying her luncheon-basket andhelping her over the fences ... Ah! ... Just the same when we grewup. Still pals. And that was twenty years ago ... The arrangementwas that I should go out and make the money to buy the home, andthen come back and marry her.'

  'Then why the devil haven't you done it?' I said severely.

  He shook his head.

  'If you know anything about crooks, young man,' he said, 'you'llknow that outside of their own line they are the easiest marks thatever happened. They fall for anything. At least, it's always beenthat way with me. No sooner did I get together a sort of pile andstart out for the old town, when some smooth stranger would comealong and steer me up against some skin-game, and back I'd have togo to work. That happened a few times, and when I did manage atlast to get home with the dough I found she had married anotherguy. It's hard on women, you see,' he explained chivalrously. 'Theyget lonesome and Roving Rupert doesn't show up, so they have tomarry Stay-at-Home Henry just to keep from getting the horrors.'

  'So she's Mrs Stay-at-Home Henry now?' I said sympathetically.

  'She was till a year ago. She's a widow now. Deceased had amisunderstanding with a hydrophobia skunk, so I'm informed. Ibelieve he was a good man. Outside of licking him at school Ididn't know him well. I saw her just before I left to come here.She's as fond of me as ever. It's all settled, if only I canconnect with the mazuma. And she don't want much, either. Justenough to keep the home together.'

  'I wish you happiness,' I said.

  'You can do better than that. You can take me with you to thataddress.'

  I avoided the subject.

  'What does she say to your way of making money?' I asked.

  'She doesn't know, and she ain't going to know. I don't see why aman has got to tell his wife every little thing in his past. Shethinks I'm a drummer, travelling in England for a dry-goods firm.She wouldn't stand for the other thing, not for a minute. She'svery particular. Always was. That's why I'm going to quit afterI've won out over this thing of the Little Nugget.' He looked atme hopefully. 'So you _will_ take me along, sonny, won't you?'

  I shook my head.

  'You won't?'

  'I'm sorry to spoil a romance, but I can't. You must look aroundfor some other home into which to bring happiness. The Fords' isbarred.'

  'You are very obstinate, young man,' he said, sadly, but withoutany apparent ill-feeling. 'I can't persuade you?'

  'No.'

  'Ah, well! So we are to be rivals, not allies. You will regretthis, sonny. I may say you will regret it very bitterly. When yousee me in my automo--'

  'You mentioned your automobile before.'

  'Ah! So I did.'

  The train had stopped, as trains always do on English railwaysbefore entering a terminus. Presently it began to move forwardhesitatingly, as if saying to itself, 'Now, am I really wantedhere? Shall I be welcome?' Eventually, after a second halt, itglided slowly alongside the platform.

  I sprang out and ran to the cab-rank. I was aboard a taxi, bowlingout of the station before the train had stopped.

  Peeping out of the window at the back, I was unable to see Sam. Myadroit move, I took it, had baffled him. I had left him standing.

  It was a quarter of an hour's drive to my rooms, but to me, in myanxiety, it seemed more. This was going to be a close thing, andsuccess or failure a matter of minutes. If he followed myinstructions Smith would be starting for the Continental boat-traintonight with his companion; and, working out the distances,I saw that, by the time I could arrive, he might already have leftmy rooms. Sam's supervision at Sanstead Station had made itimpossible for me to send a telegram. I had had to trust tochance. Fortunately my train, by a miracle, had been up to time,and at my present rate of progress I ought to catch Smith a fewminutes before he left the building.

  The cab pulled up. I ran up the stairs and opened the door of myapartment.

  'Smith!' I called.

  A chair scraped along the floor and a door opened at the end ofthe passage. Smith came out.

  'Thank goodness you have not started. I thought I should miss you.Where is the boy?'

  'The boy, sir?'

  'The boy I wrote to you about.'

  'He has not arrived, sir.'

  'Not arrived?'

  'No, sir.'

  I stared at him blankly.

  'How long have you been here?'

  'All day, sir.'

  'You have not been out?'

  'Not since the hour of two, sir.'

  'I can't understand it,' I said.

  'Perhaps the young gentleman changed his mind and never started,sir?'

  'I know he started.'

  Smith had no further suggestion to offer.

  'Pending the young gentleman's arrival, sir, I remain in London?'

  A fruity voice spoke at the door behind me.

  'What! Hasn't he arrived?'

  I turned. There, beaming and benevolent, stood Mr Fisher.

  'It occurred to me to look your name out in the telephonedirectory,' he explained. 'I might have thought of that before.'

  'Come in
here,' I said, opening the door of the sitting-room. Idid not want to discuss the thing with him before Smith.

  He looked about the room admiringly.

  'So these are your quarters,' he said. 'You do yourself prettywell, young man. So I understand that the Nugget has gone wrong intransit. He has altered his plans on the way?'

  'I can't understand it.'

  'I can! You gave him a certain amount of money?'

  'Yes. Enough to get him to--where he was going.'

  'Then, knowing the boy, I should say that he has found other usesfor it. He's whooping it up in London, and, I should fancy, havingthe time of his young life.'

  He got up.

  'This of course,' he said, 'alters considerably any understandingwe may have come to, sonny. All idea of a partnership is now outof the question. I wish you well, but I have no further use foryou. Somewhere in this great city the Little Nugget is hiding, andI mean to find him--entirely on my own account. This is where ourpaths divide, Mr Burns. Good night.'

 

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