“And if we succeed in carrying out the conditions?” Hamar asked.
“Then,” the voice replied, “you will retain free, untrammelled possession of your knowledge.”
“For how long?” Curtis queried.
“For the natural term of your lives—that is to say, for as long as you would have lived had you never been initiated into the secrets of magic.”
“And if we fail?”
“You will pass into the permanent possession of the Unknown.”
“Does that mean we shall die the moment we fail?” Kelson inquired timidly.
“Die!” the voice lisped. “Again you speak in terms you do not understand. You may be sent for.”
“You say—in perfect harmony.” Hamar put in. “Does that mean without a quarrel, however slight?”
“It means without a quarrel that would lead to separation. The moment you disunite the compact is broken.”
“What advantages will the secrets bring us?” Hamar inquired. “Can we gain unlimited wealth?”
“Yes!” the voice replied. “Unlimited wealth and influence.”
“And health?”
“So long as you fulfil the conditions of the compact you will enjoy perfect health. Will you, or will you not, pledge yourselves?”
“I am ready if you fellows are,” Hamar whispered.
“I am!” Curtis cried. “Anything is better than the life we are living at present.”
“And I, too,” Kelson said. “I agree with Ed.”
“Very well then,” the voice once more lisped. “Each of you take a fruit and eat it, and the compact is irrevocably struck. You cannot back out of it without incurring the consequences already named. Don’t be afraid, step up here and help yourselves—one apiece—mind, no more.” And again it seemed to Hamar, Curtis and Kelson as if the tree and everything around it was convulsed with silent laughter.
“Come on!” Hamar cried, somewhat imperatively. “Don’t waste time. You’ve decided, and besides, remember this affair may turn out trumps. I’ll go first,” and walking up to the tree he plucked a fruit and began to eat it. Curtis and Kelson slowly followed suit.
“I believe I’m eating a live slug, or a toad,” Curtis muttered, with a retch.
“And I, too,” Kelson whispered. “It’s filthy. I shall be sick. If I am, will it make any difference to the compact, I wonder?”
What the fruit really tasted like they could never decide. It reminded them of many things and of nothing. It was sweet yet bitter; it repelled but at the same time pleased them; it was as perplexing as the voice—as enigmatical. When they had eaten it they resumed their former positions on the ground, and the voice once again addressed them.
“The fruit you have consumed has created in you a fitness to make use of the powers about to be conferred. You have acquired the faculty of sorcery—you will be initiated by stages, into the knowledge and practice of it. These stages, seven in number, will cover the period of your compact, i. e. twenty-one months, and at the end of every three months—when a fresh stage is reached—you will receive fresh powers.
“In the first stage, the stage you are now entering upon, you will receive the power of divination. You will be told how to detect the presence of water and all kinds of metals, and how to read people’s thoughts.
“In the second stage—exactly three months from to-day—you will receive the gift of second-sight; the power of separating your immaterial from your material body and projecting it, anywhere you will, on the physical plane; and, to a large extent, you will be enabled to circumvent gravity. Thus you will be able to perform all manner of jugglery tricks—tricks that will set the whole world gaping. Profit by them.
“In the third stage you will possess the secrets of invisibility; of walking on the water; of breathing under the water; of taming wild beasts; and of understanding their language.
“In the fourth stage you will understand how to inflict all manner of diseases, and work all sorts of spells; such, for instance, as bewitching milk, causing people to have fits, bad dreams, etc. You will also know how to create plagues—plagues of insects, or of any other noxious thing.
“In the fifth stage you will possess absolute knowledge of the art of medicine and be able to cure every ailment.
“In the sixth stage you will acquire the power of producing vampires and werwolves from the human being, and of transforming people from the human to any animal guise.
“In the seventh and final stage you will be given the complete mastery of every art and science—including astrology, astronomy, necromancy, etc.; and for this stage is reserved the greatest power of all—namely, the complete dominion over woman’s will and affections. The powers of creating life, and of extending life beyond the now natural limit, and of avoiding accidents, will never be conferred on you. Neither shall you learn, not at least during your physical existence—who or what we are, or the secrets of creation.
“Each successive stage will cancel the preceding one—that is to say, the powers you have acquired in the first stage will be annulled on your arriving at the second stage, and so on. But if you carry out your compact faithfully—that is to say, if at the end of the twenty-one months you are still united—all the powers you have held hitherto, in the different stages, temporarily, will return to you and remain in your possession permanently. Have you anything to say?”
“Yes!” Hamar answered; “I fully understand all you have explained to us and I like the idea of it immensely. The fear of our coming to any serious loggerheads and of dissolving partnership doesn’t worry me much—but I must say, it seems very remote—the prospect of gaining such tremendous powers—powers that will give us practically everything we want—save youth—”
“Youth you will never regain,” lisped the voice. “And elixirs of life, surely you must know, are no longer sought after, by beings of the planet Earth. They are quite out of date. You will, of course, learn the most efficacious means of making yourselves and other people youthful in appearance.”
“Yes, but how shall we learn these secrets?” Kelson nerved himself to ask.
“They will be revealed to you in various ways—sometimes when asleep. You will receive preliminary instructions as to divination before this time to-morrow.”
“And meanwhile, we shall be in want of money,” Curtis remarked.
“No!” the voice replied, “you will not be in want of money. Have you anything more to ask?”
No one spoke, and the silence that followed was interrupted by a loud rustling of the wind. The darkness then lifted; but nothing was to be seen—nothing save the trees and bushes, moon and stars.
CHAPTER VI
THE FIRST POWER
After their rencontre with the Unknown, Hamar and his companions did not get back to their respective quarters till the sun was high in the heavens, and the streets of the city were beginning to vibrate with the rattle and clatter of traffic.
“It’s all very well—this wonderful compact of ours,” Curtis grumbled, “but I’m deuced hungry, and Matt and I haven’t a cent between us. As we went all that way last night to oblige you, Leon, I think it is only fair you should stand us treat. I’ll bet you have some nickels stowed away, somewhere, in those pockets of yours—it wouldn’t be you if you hadn’t! What do you say, Matt?”
“I think as you do,” Kelson replied. “We’ve stood by Leon, he should stand by us. How much have you, Leon?”
“How much have you?” Curtis echoed, “come, out with it—no jew-jewing pals for me.”
“I might manage a dollar,” Hamar said ruefully, as the prospect of a good meal all to himself, at his favourite restaurant, faded away. “Where shall we go?”
Just then, Kelson, happening to look behind him, saw a young woman of prepossessing appearance ascending the steps of a
dive in Clay Street. He was instantly attracted, as he always was attracted by a pretty woman, and something—a kind of intuition he had never had before—told him that she was a waitress; that she was discontented with her present situation; that she was engaged to be married to a pen driver at Hastings & Hastings in Sacramento Street; and that she had a mother, of over seventy, whom she kept. All this came to Kelson like a flash of lightning.
Yielding to an impulse which he did not stay to analyse, he gripped Hamar and Curtis, each too astonished even to remonstrate, by the arm, and, dragging them along with him, followed the girl.
The dive had only just been opened, and was being dusted and swept by two slatternly women with dago complexions, and voices like hyenas. It still reeked of stale drink and tobacco.
“What’s the good of coming to a place like this?” Hamar demanded, as soon as he had freed himself from Kelson’s clutches. “We can’t get breakfast here.”
“Matt’s mad, that’s what’s the matter with him,” Curtis added in disgust. “Let’s get out.”
He turned to go—then, halted—and stood still. He appeared to be listening. “What’s up with you?” Hamar asked. “Both you fellows are behaving like lunatics this morning—there’s not a pin to choose between you.”
“They’re playing cards, that’s all,” Curtis said. “Can’t you hear them?”
Hamar shook his head. “Not a sound,” he said. “Just look at Matt!”
While the other two were talking, Kelson had followed the girl to the bar, and catching her up, just as she entered it, said in a manner that was peculiar to him—a manner seldom without effect upon girls of his class—“I beg your pardon, miss, are we too early to be served? Jerusalem! Haven’t I met you somewhere before?”
The girl looked him square in the eyes and then smiled. “As like as not,” she said. “I go pretty near everywhere! What do you want?”
“Well!” Kelson soliloquized; “breakfast is what we are particularly anxious for—but I suppose that is out of the question in a dive!”
“Then why did you come here?” the girl queried.
“Because of you! Simply because of you,” Kelson replied. “You hypnotized me!”
“That being so, then I reckon you can have your breakfast,” the girl laughed, “though we don’t provide them as a rule before nine. Indeed, the management have only just decided—this morning—on providing them at all.”
“How odd!”
“Why odd?” the girl questioned, taking off her hat and arranging her curls before a mirror.
“Why, that I should have happened to strike the right moment! Had I come here yesterday it would have been useless. As I said, you hypnotized me. Evidently fate intended us to meet.”
“Do you believe in fate?” the girl asked, shrugging her shoulders. “I believe in nothing—least of all in men!”
“You say so!” Kelson observed, before he knew what he was saying. “And yet you have just got engaged to one. But you’ve got a bad attack of the pip this morning, you have had enough of it here—you want to get another post.”
The girl ceased doing her hair and eyed him in amazement. “Well!” she said. “Of all the queer men I’ve ever met you are the queerest. Are you a seer?”
“No!” Hamar observed, suddenly joining in. “He’s only very hungry, miss. Hungry body and soul! hungry all over. And so are we.”
“Well, then, go into the room over there,” the girl cried, pointing in the direction of a half-open door, “and breakfast will be brought you in half a jiffy.”
“Who’s that playing cards?” Curtis asked.
“How do you know any one is playing cards?” the girl queried with an incredulous stare. “You can’t see through walls, can you?”
“No! and I’m hanged if I can explain,” Curtis said, “I seem to hear them. There are two—one is called Arnold, and the other Lemon, or some such name, and they are rehearsing certain card tricks they mean to play to-night.”
“That’s right,” the girl said, “two men named Arnold and Lemon are here. They were playing all last night with two of the clerks in Willows Bank, in Sacramento Street, and they cleared them out of every cent. You knew it!”
“No! I didn’t,” Curtis growled, “I don’t lie for fun, and I’m just as much in a fog, as to how I know, as you are. Let’s have breakfast now, and we’ll look up these two gents afterwards, if they haven’t gone.”
“Your friend’s a brute, I don’t like him,” the girl whispered to Kelson. “Let him lose all he’s got—you stay out here.”
“Nothing I should like better,” Kelson said, “it’s a bargain!”
The breakfast was so good that they lingered long over it, and the bar-room had a fair sprinkling of people when they re-entered it. Leaving Kelson to chat with the girl, Hamar and Curtis, obeying her directions, found their way to a small parlour in the rear of the building, where two men were lolling over a card table, smoking and drinking, and reading aloud extracts from a pink sporting paper.
“It’s a funny thing,” one of them exclaimed, “we can’t be allowed to sit here in peace—when there’s so much spare space in the house.”
“We beg your pardon for intruding,” Curtis said, “but my friend and I came in here for a quiet game of cards. We’re farmers down Missouri way, and don’t often get the chance to run up to town.”
“Farmers, are you!” the man who had not yet spoken said, eyeing them both closely. “You don’t look it. My friend Lemon, here, and I were also wanting to have a game—would you care to join us?”
“By all means,” Curtis at once exclaimed. “What do you play?”
“Poker!” the man said, “Nap! Don! But I’ll show you something first, which, being fresh from the country, you’ve probably never seen before, though they do tell me people in Missouri are mighty cute.” He then proceeded to show them what he called the Bull and Buffalo trick, the secret of which he offered to sell them for ten dollars.
“I wouldn’t give you a cent for it!” Curtis snapped. “Any one can see how it is done.”
“You can’t!” the man retorted, turning red. “I’ll wager twenty dollars you can’t.” Curtis accepted the wager, and at once did the trick. He had seen through it at a glance—there appeared no difficulty in it at all; and yet he was quite certain if he had been asked to do it the day before, he would have utterly failed.
“Now,” he said, “give me the money,”—and the man complied with an oath.
“Any more tricks?” Curtis asked complacently.
“I know heaps,” the man rejoined. “There’s one you won’t guess—the seven card trick.”
He did it. And so did Curtis.
“Well I’m——” the man called Lemon ejaculated.
“He’s the dandiest cove at tricks we’ve ever struck. Try him with the Prince and Slipper, Arnold!”
Arnold rather reluctantly assented, and Curtis burst out laughing.
“Why!” he said, “that’s the simplest of all! See!” And it was done. “You two had better come to an understanding with us or you’ll not shine to-night. How about a game of Don?”
Lemon and Arnold agreed, but they had barely begun before Curtis cried out, “It’s no use, Lemon, I can see those deuces up your sleeve. You’ve some up yours, too, Arnold—the deuce of clubs and the deuce of hearts. Moreover, you can tell our cards by notches and thumb smears on the backs. I’ll show you how.” He told the cards correctly—there was no gainsaying it. The men were overwhelmed.
“What are you, anyway?” Lemon asked; “tecs?”
“Never mind what we are!” Curtis said savagely. “We know what you are—and that’s where the rub comes in. Now what are you going to pay us to hold our tongues?”
“Pay you!” Lemon hissed. “Why, damn you—nothing. We’
re not bankers. All we’ve got to do is clear out and try somewhere else.”
“That might not be so easy as you imagine,” Hamar interposed. “We would make it our business to have a scene first. Why not come to terms? We’ll not be over exorbitant—and consider the convenience of not having to shift your quarters.”
“Well, of all the blooming frousts I’ve struck, none beats this,” Lemon said. “Fancy being pipped by a couple of suckers like these. Farmers, indeed! Why don’t you call yourselves parsons? How much do you want?”
After a prolonged haggling, Hamar and Curtis agreed to take fifty dollars; and, considering their penniless condition, they were by no means dissatisfied with their bargain.
They were now ready to go, and looking round for Kelson, found him engaged in a desperate tête-à-tête with the young lady at the bar, who, despite her avowed lack of faith in mankind, counted half the room her friends. She promised Kelson that she would meet him at eight o’clock that evening; but as both she and he were quite used to making such promises and subsequently forgetting all about them, their rencontre resulted in only one thing, namely, in furnishing the three allies with the nucleus of the big fortune they intended making.
On finding themselves outside the dive Hamar, Curtis and Kelson first of all divided the spoil. They then went to a clothes depot and rigged themselves out in fashionably cut garments; after which they took rooms at a presentable hotel in Kearney Street, next door to Knobble’s boot store. Then, dressed for the first time in their lives like Nob Hill dukes, they paraded the pet resorts of the beau-monde—of the bonanza and railroad set—and making eyes at all the pretty wives and daughters they met, cogitated fresh devices for making money. As they sauntered across Pacific Avenue, in the direction of Californian Street, Kelson suddenly gave vent to a whistle.
The Elliott O’Donnell Supernatural Megapack Page 87
