Sofar I had regarded Miss Bascom as one of the hundreds of others that just chanced to take the place of the men who had been drafted from the railroad employees. They came from everywhere, cities, villages and rural districts, and substitutes for man-power were in such demand that "no questions" was the rule; no disposition to "look a gift horse in the mouth" or even to see if they had a spavin, ringbone, or inflicted with "string halt."
Very likely she may have written the anonymous suggestion to Hiram. I did know that she entered the back room of a hotel with Becker and had received his embraces and proposals, which would surely shock a maiden's ears, but admittedly she did not drink, and she had acted with singular astuteness.
I knew she was flirting with Burrell, the chief clerk, and that Becker and Burrell frequented low places together. Altogether it looked as though she was playing a double rôle and I was not at all surejust where I fitted into the planning going on in her head, although I'll admit the latter was very attractive.
At once I decided to put her to a test that would make each blonde hair stand without support, and the opportunity came sooner than I expected.
As the warehouse to which Superintendent Kitchell referred was not far away, I went there before keeping my noon appointment with Hiram. It was, as he said, a veritable graveyard of disappointed hopes and plans gone wrong—bleached, grinning skeletons of blue-sky finance and religio-political scheming reduced to the irreducible. They couldn't even pay the freight to New Orleans, not to mention their Gulf and Caribbean destinations.
Shippers always receive money in advance for antiquated or experimental devices from their "bone-yard" and therefore they had no further interest. Cannon, more deadly at the breech, airships that would do everything but fly, rifles rejected by shop inspectors, cartridges that wouldn't explode, and so on. Threshing machines and engines, sawmills and agricultural implements, cases of rifles and cartridges and other war-like material in astonishingabundance—but nothing apparently for our purpose. I did observe a big case made of two-inch lumber, heavily iron-bound, that might contain an engine or motor, but I needed help to reach it.
When Hiram returned to the room, a little ahead of time, his pep and ginger seemed to have been largely augmented. His energy appeared to have no limit, but with it all there was a shade of disappointment, or apprehension. He began at once about the boat.
"Fearsomeis her name," said he. "She is just what we want, a dandy for our purpose, but I'm afraid she's too big. While fitted with a propeller and rudder, and steers from a chicken-coop up front, she has no power. But she's a peach for size and width!" he exclaimed, with breath no faster from running up the stairs three steps at a time. "How the devil are we going to get something to make her go?" he added, sitting down in front of me, holding his left knee between his hands, and looking appealingly at me.
"How big a boat is it?" I asked, suppressing my amusement.
"About a hundred and fifty feet long and twenty five or thirty beam. Not deep in the water, but she draws enough. She looks like an overgrown canal boat. But I brought the captain along; he can tell you more; do you want to see him? It's only a matter of getting power into her."
"How much will it cost to get possession of her?"
"Well, that is another thing—the captain says that it's to be auctioned for the crew's wages. He hints that the owners may have gone to jail, or back to the mountains to resume their legitimate business as highwaymen."
"Who is the captain you refer to?"
"Captain Marianna—I told you about him. He's the caretaker, and has been living on her—starved out, is an Italian, has a shipmaster's license from the Government. He has it hanging in the boat. I'm sure he will stay with us if we want him. He is downstairs now—want to see him?" Then, coming toward me, he asked in an earnest undertone, "Can we raise the money to put some kind of power in her? I can root out the Becker crowd, clean my slate and then make a fortune with her if we can," he insisted with fierce determination.
"When is it to be sold?" I queried.
"The time is up now—I'd say to-morrow or next day."
"I don't know, Hiram, it will be a pretty big lump to swallow. We don't know how high they will bid it up, but perhaps, with luck, we can manage it." I knew he was thinking of Anna Bell Morgan, and, as a close second, the Gold-Beater.
The captain was undoubtedly an old salt, past middle age, looked dependable, repeated the same story about the boat, but not within Hiram's hearing would he tell from whence it came, or how, or why they brought it through the canal instead of up the river, the usual way of getting into New Orleans. However, I was doubtful about power.
As soon as the captain had gone we started for the unclaimed freight warehouse to investigate further. While we were on the way Hiram caught me by the arm and, bringing his face nearly in front of mine, half whispered:
"Ben, I have some money—I did not spend all the Gold-Beater gave me as my last dot. I've got the money we pried from the old captain who was going to drown us, and I have saved mywages, but the heck of it is to get some kind of power. No one will pay much for the boat. How about selling that barrel? The last offer was something like seven hundred dollars, wasn't it?" His tone was of the wheedling variety.
"Perhaps I had forgotten to tell you, Hiram, that I have had some favorable news about that barrel of steel-filings," said I, at the same time giving him a gentle nudge. "But as soon as I can get in touch with the right market I expect to get a much better offer. I don't want to sell that just now, but I, too, have saved a little money we can use if necessary." I then explained the possibility of finding something in the way of a motor in the warehouse for which we were then bound, and if so, no immediate outlay would be necessary, but of course that was only a chance, and besides, we were not sure some fool would not bid it well up.
"I don't care how fast it goes, just so it can beat the river current," he urged. "Oh, she looks tough. No one will bid much, that's certain."
"Have you figured on the fact that this boat is in the canal, and while only a mile from the river, you must go a long way by water to get there?"
"Yes, I know it is two hundred miles or more, clear out through the Mississippi and Chandeleur Sound, but that won't take long if she can move at all," he replied without hesitation. "You see, it is practically inland water all the way," he added.
"Hiram, are you still keeping away from Anna Bell Morgan? Don't you hear from her at all?" I asked this question suddenly, as we approached the warehouse, and the change of subject appeared to have startled him.
"No—and, I never shall unless this matter is cleaned up completely. If I go to the bow-wows I won't take any one with me," he said, looking far away down the sidewalk.
"You haven't seen her for some time. Are you cooling off?"
"No, Ben, not one bit. That girl is the only one who has ever held me. I don't believe there is a half hour of the time that I am awake I do not think of her, and I believe it is the thought of her that makes me fight. I tell you it must be no halfway business. If they try to pin anything on me and have me arrested, which they may, some people will always believe me guilty even if I am acquitted.And if that comes to pass I don't believe I will ever see her again; in fact I told her so. It is a fearful thing to think of, and while we are making headway, the delay almost drives me wild when I stop to think about it," he said, still downcast.
"You'll forget—most men do."
"Yes—I may forget—I may not be different from other men, but I don't feel that way now, and I don't think I ever will," he replied with a certain convincing firmness. But when we got to the warehouse, the possibility of failure, suggested by the reference to Anna Bell Morgan, seemed to lend strength to his body. He lifted big cases with ease and smaller ones left his hands with a toss until we uncovered the big case that had attracted my attention.
A sledge broke the iron binding and I lifted one of the thick planks. When I told Hiram it was a steam engine, and worthless to us, it was the first time I ever heard him use voluble profanity, to which I listened, amused.
But in uncovering this case, bigger ones back of it were revealed. We went at them. The next one we opened contained an antiquated automobile, notworth the expense of packing for sea-shipment. Another case that had just been unloaded from a car that morning promised something and our hopes arose; it was much longer and larger than any of the others and readily answered to the blows of the sledge. It contained the body of an air-ship. Hiram was about to sulphurize the warehouse again but sat down instead, wet with perspiration.
"Ben, that infernal thing contains a gasoline motor—is it possible to use it?" He waited expectantly for a reply.
"Perhaps; rip off another plank so that I can see."
Two more blows from the flying sledge sent another plank flying.
"There you are!" he exulted.
We were astonished to find a twelve-cylinder motor of standard manufacture, which I thought might be used in a boat. And, of course, a self-contained plant, ready for running.
Hiram's spirits rose to the heights with this information and he began his habit of cavorting like a colt, apparently forgetting the sad disappointmentof only a moment before. In many respects he was yet a boy.
I called Mr. Kitchell on the telephone, told him briefly about the boat and of the motor in the air-plane.
"Yes, take it, and anything there you can use; you know we can requisition anything we want when necessary. Take it quick if you can use it to get us out of this nightmare," he snapped back at me. "A complaint from Washington has reached the president of the road, who has passed it down the line with a stinger in every word. Both the railroad administration and the Bureau of Animal Industry are riding on my neck without a saddle. Go as far as you like, only hurry."
Hiramsuggested that he and the captain would get the motor out on the floor and test it in order to make sure that another crooked revolutionist had not met a crooked manufacturer.
While they were doing this I went to my office to get a better line on the traffic between that very interesting trio—Becker, Burrell and my clerk, Miss Bascom.
Captain Marianna helped Hiram, so they soon had the motor on skids, and 'phoned me to come down and try it out. The working test was satisfactory and after computing its horsepower, we decided it would drive the boat, and, possibly, at a fair speed. Before leaving the warehouse Hiram called my attention to a small portable sawmill outfit.
"If this works out, that's mine, too," he whispered, evidently still clinging to the idea of capturing logs in the river.
Hiram was right, nothing like the hull of theFearsomehad ever been produced before. A hundred and fifty feet long, and over thirty foot beam, and with a bulwark not more than a foot high about the entire outside. It looked like an immense skimming dish. Hiram thought it came from the canals of Mars, possibly a cup challenger there. Captain Marianna assured us, though she didn't look it now, she was very sturdy and seaworthy and she did not leak even a little since he had been on her. No doubt it had previously had gasoline power in it, for there were left intact the foundation beams. Hiram said that the captain, now penniless and almost starving, if given some cash and a good job, would likely be distinctly different from now on. I told him I thought the fellow was a fair bet, and left them at work getting the motor ready to move on board. The captain assured me the sale was to take place at nine the next morning. No one had been around to see it and I felt sure it would go for very little.
As I was up all night I did not see Hiram until the next morning. The sale looked as though it had been arranged for our benefit. The officer said the claims were nearly a thousand dollars, sold itpromptly for that bid, got away as though in a hurry, and I attended to the details, leaving Hiram serious but jubilant.
It was late that night when he returned, tired and hungry but enthusiastic. He took little interest in a letter awaiting him until he told me all about his progress in moving the motor and getting it aboard the boat.
"We got the motor aboard late this evening and it fits as if made for the foundation beams, and it will connect with the propeller shaft and clutch with little trouble. But, say, the captain says we must have an air compressor for the whistle and anauxiliarygasoline tank,—and, say," he continued, while stripping down to wash—"I believe the captain is going to prove a jewel—he's all right."
"You still think him reliable?"
"Well, if he is as loyal to us as he was to his old employers he will be all right—and willing to turn his hand to anything."
"Did you see the letter that came for you?"
"Yes, I'm going to read it in a minute—it's nothing, for I don't know any one who would write to me. I've got something more important to do nowthan keeping up a line of correspondence," he said, as he finished his ablutions and buttoned his flannel shirt at the collar. Then he reached for the letter and as he opened it his face changed to astonished resentment.
"Say, who the devil can it be that is writing me these notes? This is the second one I have received, not dated or signed by any one. I don't understand this one at all," he added, handing it to me.
I took it and read from the same yellow paper and typed as the last one had been:
"Becker & Co. know of the Railroad's plan to ship slaughtered cattle from Illinois to their plant."
"Becker & Co. know of the Railroad's plan to ship slaughtered cattle from Illinois to their plant."
His astonishment was no greater than mine, for instantly I knew that only some one connected with the railroad and telegraph could learn anything regarding Superintendent Kitchell's plan. I also recalled that I had not mentioned anything about the plan to Hiram, or any other important thing concerning the case. I wanted him to move uninfluenced by anything I knew or suspected.
After examining the note critically a few moments, I said:
"Hiram, these notes may come from a woman—they have such earmarks. Do you know—have you anything to do with a woman?" I asked, really alarmed at the moment, and scrutinizing him closely.
Hiram stood straight before me and looked me square in the eye with magnificent candor.
"Ben, I have scarcely a speaking acquaintance with any woman in New Orleans except Anna Bell Morgan—and I have not seen her or communicated with her since—well, you know how long—ever since this damned thing came up like a black fog from Hades, out of which it seems impossible to get—and——"
"The plan of getting into Becker's plant is yours. I mentioned it to Superintendent Kitchell. Getting some slaughtered tubercular cattle from Illinois is Kitchell's idea. He wired or wrote, or both, from his office and this is the result. Somebody inside, sure—somebody for them and somebody for you—who is it, Hiram?" I ended by demanding of him to speak only the truth.
"I haven't mentioned one word to a soul other than you," he stoutly insisted, his face as open as a printed page.
"Have you mentioned your boat scheme to any one?" I asked, fearful of the incaution of youth.
"Not a person knows of it from me but you and Captain Marianna, and he doesn't know much yet. But this is absolute evidence our finger is on the right spot," he observed shrewdly, then added, less confidently—"they must have some organization."
"Go ahead, Hiram, I still think your boat scheme a very good one, but be very discreet and see if you can think of any one who would send these notes to you," I added darkly, much puzzled and annoyed.
"He is building and must have lumber—he'll fall for some cheap stuff and the river is full of logs—and it's perfectly feasible to saw them——"
"Maybe so, Hiram—provided he doesn't keep on knowing what we have for breakfast. I will learn more in a day or two—go ahead as fast as you can about getting ready, but again I ask you to have an interrogation point in front of you all the time."
"Ben"—he began, walking about the room nervously, as though he felt his soul in danger—righteously angered, but as one who showed real bigness—"I am convinced that they have powerenough, so that when they get ready they can for a time make me the goat. I was in sole charge of that wharf when the big thefts were pulled off; what would be easier than to link me up with some poor teamster and send the two of us to slaughter, and even by arrest plant an imputation that could be cited against me all my life? I could take this Becker and tear his purple tallow person into bits with my bare hands and throw the pieces into his own rendering tanks with pleasure!" he shouted, and he looked as though he could do it.
"Yes, Hiram, that possibility is present, but perhaps you magnify it." Then believing his efficiency would be augmented by a little less fear, I told him, for the first time, that the provision market was flooded with spurious goods bearing a genuine government stamp as having been inspected and passed, and that on this night I was going with a Federal party in a move against Becker for that.
"What are you going to do?" he asked quickly.
"Locate him as soon as he leaves his New Orleans office, then a safe expert, employed by the government in alien-enemy work, will open his safefor evidence, and possibly will find the stolen seals, stamps, and ink of the Department of Animal Industry."
"I have figured the case in just that way and supposed you had, and that is why we must get inside his plant. Opening his safe may help—finding the seals don't prove the larceny—suppose they should secrete those seals about the wharf, or worse still, put them inside, or under my desk, in the wharf office, what chance would I have to escape the implication?" he asked, still walking about the room looking at the floor.
"A dog having the bone will not prove he stole the ham," I suggested.
"But that won't save the dog's ribs when he's found with it," he retorted, relaxing.
"It is true, Hiram, their organization must begin in Kansas City—and is pretty well oiled—but perhaps not as efficient as you imagine; crooks always forget something with a certainty that suggests fatality."
"Let us hope so. But these notes—what makes you think they are from a woman?" He stoppedand looked squarely at me. "I don't like it," he finished with a snap of his jaws.
"My reason just now is scarcely more than an impression, hardly more than 'because,'" I replied.
Thatnight at dinner I asked Hiram how much he knew about gasoline engines, and he looked up at me sharply.
"Not very much; very little, in fact. The Gold-Beater gave me a car once—a pretty good one—and I was learning about motors fairly fast when something happened. I knew motors needed water, oil and gasoline, and that when I did certain things it went, and sometimes it moved pretty fast. That was the trouble—I met a bigger car and we both went over in a man's front yard. I lost two wheels and other things—I never saw it again. The Gold-Beater and the insurance company settled somehow.
"Do you know," he continued after a pause, "I don't blame the Gold-Beater much—two thousand was my share for putting an innocent pedestrian in the park on the bad side—I wonder he didn't get the marble heart sooner." As he said this his lips curled with self-criticism.
"How soon will you have the motor ready to start? I am going to be very busy to-morrow. Can you and the captain manage to start it alone?"
"To-morrow at noon we will have everything ready for a try-out and if I don't feel safe we will not attempt to start without you. Don't want to take any chances; there's too much at stake," he insisted with rare judgment.
"Everything is fair in love and war," is the libertine's comfort in the case of a love contest—and in war it depends on the kind of an enemy we have. In this war any means of obtaining evidence against our enemy was justified. That was my firm belief. That night Becker & Co.'s office was entered as planned and his safe opened. While there was plenty of evidence that he was trading illicitly and with the enemy, I was disappointed in finding no evidence of his thieving propensity, except a letter he had received that day from the captain of a Swedish ship,Sparticide, then in port, who in poor English explained that he had "received the sample and thought it would do, though the price was altogether too high. If he would pack in half barrelsand deliver as suggested, he would take the lot for cash, delivered alongside."
This letter was carefully copied and replaced.
When I reached home just before daylight, Hiram, Jr., was fast asleep, but when I awakened later in the day he had gone.
I spent the greater part of the morning getting the five bales of waste paper that had been unloaded from Becker's boat on the steamship docks, into a private fireproof room in the storage warehouse where we had our barrel of "steel filings" stored, and secured an affidavit from the steamship company that they were received from Becker & Co.
When I found leisure to examine them, I drew samples from each bale and carefully estimated the number, finding they checked up with the amount of filled sausage cartons stolen from the car.
Before leaving the warehouse I had our barrel put into the same room and secured it with a special Government padlock. Recent correspondence had developed that it contained a very rare German aniline dye, which American manufacturers had as yet been unable to produce, and offers for it hadrisen to such a fabulous sum I was afraid to tell Hiram about it for the present.
When I reached my office, my clerk, Miss Bascom, was out to luncheon, but I had not been there long before Superintendent Kitchell came in and formally introduced Mr. Hiram Strong, Sr., whom he had mentioned as being in transit over the system in his private car, and asked me to extend any possible courtesy, after which he bowed himself out obsequiously.
I knew I was in the presence of a man. He was tall and his full chest and very broad shoulders impressed me as they had impressed Hiram. His hair was iron gray and his very hat seemed to be made to order for him. His eyes appeared to penetrate without effort the object on which they turned, and one knew instinctively that he could and would note any discrepancy between what a person thought and what he uttered.
I saw at once how Hiram, Jr., had come by his nose piece, also his fine, clear skin and chiseled mouth.
Superintendent Kitchell, contrary to his boast, had told him all he knew about Hiram, Jr. He didnot seem to want to hear more from me, but did want some information about getting down the river to the Hunting Club, where he was going to shoot ducks.
"I left New York supposing I could dispense with my secretary for a few weeks anyhow, but in that I am disappointed. Would it be too much trouble to obtain a stenographer to write some letters for me?"
Hiram Strong, Sr., like his son, was one to whom anything within reason could not be refused.
"Such talent is very scarce in New Orleans now, but if you can manage with my clerk, Miss Bascom, who is fairly efficient, you are welcome to her services—if she does not object," was the only thing I could say.
"I think she will do; in fact, almost any one," he assured me.
But somehow I felt that I was doing the wrong thing, for it suddenly occurred to me that Miss Bascom's attitude or position was so clouded and mysterious that, until I knew more, I should not trust her with anything important. But Hiram Strong, Sr., was not a man to be refused.
When Miss Bascom came in I introduced her and was about to explain what was wanted, when I stopped in amazement. The moment I mentioned the name "Mr. Strong" her face became white as marble, she raised her hand as though to advance and greet him, but it fell and she stood as though petrified, while I explained what he desired.
"I—I hope I will be able to serve you," she managed to say, while she gazed fixedly at him. I could not guess whether it was fear or other excitement.
"My work is simple correspondence, and I am sure you will be able to manage it," he replied assuringly, and I was not certain whether he was admiring her quail-like figure and unusually pretty face, or, like myself, was trying to divine the unusual excitement under the light bronze hair.
"I will do my best," she managed to say, beginning to edge away toward her desk by the window.
"Would it be asking too much for you to come out to the car? It is just under the train shed."
"Not at all, with Mr. Taylor's permission," she replied quickly, in a more natural tone. I nodded approval without looking at her, but did not relaxmy endeavor to see if Hiram Strong, Sr., had missed anything and decided he had not. He was not of that sort.
She went to her desk, obtained notebook and pencils, and stood expectantly looking out of the window as though steeling herself for an ordeal.
"I will undoubtedly see you again before I go, Mr. Taylor—I hope I will not greatly inconvenience you by taking away your clerk," he added suavely, going to the door and opening it as a sign for her to go with him.
"Anything more I can do for you will be a pleasure, Mr. Strong," I said, meeting his eye and getting a full message from him.
After they were gone I remained at my desk endeavoring to reach a logical conclusion as to the attitude of this girl, who, at that moment, I was ready to pronounce "infernal," probably because she had so far baffled me. It is true I had not given her any serious attention; perhaps I should have done so. I reviewed in my mind her traffic with Becker and the chief clerk, Burrell, and the fact that I was quite positive she was the author of theanonymous notes to Hiram. I decided to put a rod in pickle for her, at once.
I asked that her movements be accounted for every hour, and something positive be dug up concerning her antecedents, as soon as I reached the Department office, which precaution was rewarded sooner than expected.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent in securing an auxiliary gasoline tank and an air-compressor, which Hiram, Jr., had said he must have to complete his running outfit.
"Old man," he began, as soon as he came in that evening, looking as dirty and disreputable as a longshoreman, "we have a dandy outfit—the captain says we can run away from anything. You've got the tank and air-pump? Fine, old man, we will soon kill off Becker and the whole crowd. All we need now is that saw-mill in the 'Dead Hoss' warehouse, and we are ready." He finished with great enthusiasm, stripping his upper body for a complete clean-up before eating dinner.
"Did you start the engine, Hiram?"
"No, but we are all ready. The captain wanted to, but I thought we'd better wait for you. You'vegot to go out there the first thing in the morning,—you can do that, can't you?"
"Yes, maybe—but don't you think we had better give it a pretty good try-out before we put anything more into her?—she might prove a flivver."
"Never on your life—she's going to run like a wolf—but maybe you are right about giving her a good trial—suppose we bring her around into the river?—that ought to be trial enough," he concluded, coming close and displaying a wonderfully well developed torso that with age would be as broad as his father's, which I had been admiring but a short time before. For a moment I speculated on how he would feel if he knew that his father was in New Orleans at that moment and that I had been talking with him.
"Wake up, Ben; you seem to be dreaming. Did you hear what I said?" he insisted, making me dodge to escape a whack on the back.
"I believe you said it was over two hundred miles through Ponchertrain around into the river?"
"Yes, over two hundred miles by water, but by land, right through the city, only about a mile. But we've got to get into the river."
"Yes, if she will go two hundred miles she will go any distance."
"All right; I'm going to pack up to-night and move aboard to stay until Becker and his crew are all in limbo headed for the penitentiary—do you hear me, Ben?"
I heard what he said, but was lost in considering plans which at that moment required radical change, and must be done with tact and judgment.
Hiram became thoughtful and remained so throughout dinner, and as soon as we returned he began, without further comment, to get his belongings together and ready for transfer to theFearsome, fully convinced that his abode there would last for a long time.
I remained in the attitude of the "immortal," who waited for something to turn up, and I did not have long to wait.
A messenger came with two rather startling bits of information; theSparticide, the Swedish ship, had asked for her papers and wanted to clear at five the next morning, and the more mystifying knowledge—even to me—that my clerk, Miss Bascom, had arrived at that moment at the St. Charleshotel and was dining there with a distinguished stranger. Would I also check up the stranger?
Both situations needed immediate attention and I could not be in two places at the same time. I called Hiram, Jr., from the room where he was busily packing.
"Hiram, come here and sit down long enough for me to funnel a bit of instruction into your think tank," said I, recalling that I had not mentioned theSparticidematter to him.
He came and sat down in front of me, the corners of his mouth slightly elevated, folded his hands in front of him and waited in a slightly humorous and bored attitude for some inkling of what he was about to draw.
"Hiram, a Swedish ship, bound for Stockholm, is in the stream on the other side, just below Algiers, and is asking to be cleared to-morrow morning at five. It is thought she has, or will have to-night, a considerable quantity of Becker & Co.'s product on board. Foodstuffs of any sort to Sweden are forbidden, and if taken are contraband. His clearance papers are blocked until we are satisfied. Principally, what we want now is a liberal sampleof what they take aboard from Becker. You will be there in an unofficial capacity, so use discretion, but get the samples. Here is a copy of the captain's letter closing the deal."
I had not half finished when his eyes began to glitter and dance as though they might jump from their sockets, and I had barely completed my instructions when he grabbed the letter, threw on his coat and bounded down the stairs three steps at a time.
Thosewho say that any man will naturally fall for a pretty young woman are pessimistic. Age, unspoiled, will crave association with youth, but a young man will quite adequately fill the bill.
When I reached the hotel I had no trouble in finding Hiram Strong, Sr., the Gold-Beater, in a forest of millinery and subdued lights of the hotel dining-room. He was the most prominent figure in the big room, and sitting opposite him was my clerk, Miss Bascom.
He was not a victim or an intended one—a lion who, with playful stroke, could crush the beautiful flower in front of him. His lids would narrow occasionally with intense interest or curiosity. I could not get close enough to hear what was said, but she was quite voluble. I had no immediate interest in him; he was fully able to care for himself, but my interest in her was intensified. It seemed to me that I could see on her beautiful shoulders, now bared in dinner garb, the mark of the huge, pudgy,filthy hand of Becker, in gross caress. The brand of suspicion was upon her the moment she had come into contact with him, when he pressed her to his vile self, and her lips were violated by contact with his lumpy, purple, filthy mouth as he kissed her. Could her ears ever be maidenly again after listening to his vile proposals?
I was not at all sure of her relations with Chief Clerk Burrell, but I felt sure there was an understanding; nor could I account for her anonymous notes to Hiram, Jr. But here she sat comfortably dining with his father after six or eight hours' acquaintance, all of which was most disconcerting.
Truly a remarkable young woman, whatever her impelling motive, was my thought. I felt that the time was fast approaching when I could compel her to hold up her last page for me to read.
At a reasonable hour the Gold-Beater put her into a cab and sent her home. I hurried back to our rooms expecting to hear from Hiram, Jr. His mission was most difficult and important—would he be successful?
There was no mistaking his bounding step on the stairs, some time after eleven, and I was not surprisedwhen he grabbed my foot and dragged me from the bed where I was dozing.
"Get up, Ben; I've got it—the Swede was a hard nut to crack, but I made him open up—I've got a whole barrel full downstairs.—It's the stuff we want, all right—come on and see it!" he exclaimed, greatly excited, but suppressing himself with discretion.
"Are you sure?" I asked, barely awake.
"Of course, I'm sure—come on down and see it—I wouldn't take his word for anything. I made him open up before he lowered it into my boat. He tried to play innocent—jockeyed for some time, but I finally showed him the copy of his letter and flatly told him, 'No sample, no sail, also jail and his ship interned.' A half barrel of that stuff is heavy and I had the devil of a time getting it out of the boat onto the levee. Then I got hold of Billy Swope's taxi—he's safe—I've known him about the docks for a long time. Where are we going to put it at this time of night? Come on—wake up—you act as if you'd been taking dope," he hissed, coming threateningly toward me, playful but intensely excited.
"As a matter of fact I was planning, Hiram——Leave it in the cab—go down and tell the driver he is engaged for the night."
When Hiram came back to the room he saw me taking two full-sized cartons from my drawer and asked with great excitement, "Where did you get them?"
"From those five bales of waste-paper you saw come off of Becker's boat onto the S. P. wharf: didn't I tell you about it?" I asked, knowing I had not told him and that there was still a great deal more I could not tell him for the present.
It took us a long time to locate the agent of the packing-house. The time seemed interminable before we could rout him out of bed to identify the goods as those that were stolen, but as soon as he knew what we wanted he was very much awake and ready for all requirements.
He came out to the cab, drew a liberal sample from the barrel setting on end beside the driver, took it to the light, felt of it, tasted it raw, but before pronouncing it solemnly and unqualifiedly theirs, he cooked and tasted it. We then made him accompany us down to his plant, unlock his coldstorage house and there we left the barrel in his charge to preserve as evidence, after I had filled a full carton for further use that night.
We then drove back to the rooms where I had left Hiram to finish his preparations for going aboard theFearsome.
"By Heaven, one man now knows I didn't steal—and the rest of them have got to know before we get through," said Hiram, wringing my hand before I left him in order to drive to Superintendent Kitchell's residence and give him a bad half hour.
Mr. Kitchell grumbled at first, but when he learned my mission he, too, was jubilant and unstinting in his praise. I had exhibited the full carton of sausage and told him as much as I thought necessary.
"We can have warrants issued at once, can't we?" he asked.
"No—no, not yet—the most important work is yet to be done. The evidence we now have would only convict Becker & Co. of receiving stolen property. How they were able to replace the Government, the railroad and the packer's seals on the car must be answered before we prove larceny. YoungStrong's idea of getting into their plant is the best, and we are ready to try it."
"Of course, you know best—we want to stop it for good and all by sending every one to the Pen. Taylor, have you made up your mind as to whom it is in our office that is working with them?" he inquired guardedly, wrapping his bathrobe about his shins.
"Yes—pretty sure—but——"
"Well, as I said, you know best—whatever you say goes a hundred per cent with me now—what do you want?" his bald spot taking on a deeper red.
"Discontinue my office and give out freely that any further effort in the case has been abandoned as a failure. Besides, the robberies have stopped now. I am going with young Strong to try and get into their plant, and hope to secure the rest of the necessary evidence in that way."
"Good idea; I will do what you ask to-day."
"One thing more, Mr. Kitchell, it seems necessary, in fact extremely important for me not to lose sight of my clerk, Miss Bascom——"
"I understand—I can attend to that easily," heassented, as I left him to spend the remainder of the morning getting ready to board theFearsome.
Hiram, Jr., was silent most of the time, but moved with such energy and determination that the thought of failure was terrifying. In fact, I began to feel almost as though I was getting on thin ice.
So much depended on the new motor and many other sailing details impossible to think of at the time.
Captain Marianna only claimed to be a navigator, but he displayed considerable knowledge about gasoline motors. He had attended to the many details and was waiting for us with a confidence that was reassuring.
After breakfast aboard, we all took a hand in starting the motor.
"It runs as though made for the job," exclaimed Hiram, hardly able to contain himself. He had not shaved for several days and with dirty working clothes he looked indeed a longshoreman, but was oblivious to the fact.
When the motor had run long enough to get warm I told him to throw in the clutch that started the propeller, which he did without skill and so suddenlythat theFearsometook up the slack of her lines and before I could stop the motor or get to the clutch she snapped them and was free from the wharf.
Hiram realized he had blundered from inexperience and his face flushed.
"Ben, will that hold us up? It was a devil of a thing for me to do," he said, catching my arm, greatly alarmed.
"Captain, have you plenty of line aboard?" I called.
"Yes, plenty," he assured.
"Let's give her a few turns and if she moves all right we'll head for the entrance of the lake."
"I think we're safe in that," he replied, and Hiram's look changed to one of confidence at once, evidently concluding his first blunder was not fatal to the enterprise in which his whole soul was wrapped.
The captain took the wheel, while I gave the motor half speed and Hiram stood in wonder, watching as we moved swiftly up the canal, and when clear of it I gave the motor full speed and the captain without more ado squared away towardsMississippi Sound, the gulf to New Orleans on the river.
"She runs like agreyhound," Hiram said, after watching her go at full speed for a short time. "How fast is she running?" he asked, apparently forgetting his first disappointment, and consumed with a fierce satisfaction that his complete vindication and success was at hand.
"Perhaps eight or ten knots," I replied evasively. As a matter of fact we were going over twelve and I had to stand over the new motor with oil can and grease bucket, so I paid no more attention to him.
We got out into the sound before noon. It is unwise to run a new motor too far without stopping, so I advised that we make a port and appealed to the captain.
"We can make Gulfport in a short time," he replied, to which we all assented and he changed his course. When we got there a most unlooked for incident occurred.
Wasthe Gold-Beater's luck going to attend his very vigorous and now virile son? There is no such thing as luck; follow the smoke of the so-called "lucky" and we soon conclude that they earn what they get by sheer force of intense action.
The captain had hardly reached the Gulfport dock before he was approached to take on a cargo for New Orleans. Lumber was piled everywhere, with no bottoms to move it to New Orleans.
The captain referred them to Hiram, Jr., as the owner. He talked with them, then the three of us went below. We were bound for New Orleans; could we take a cargo of lumber?
Hiram's eyes danced and glistened with the possibilities.
"Ben, you know about our power; and you, captain, know how seaworthy she will be." He wisely interrogated both of us at the same time, looking from one to the other.
"What do you think about the power, Ben?"
"I think she will handle a load," I replied vaguely, and added, "for a thrown-together, patched-up affair, she performs wonderfully."
Hiram looked at Captain Marianna, as a man born to lead. He wanted that officer's opinion.
"Well," hesitated the captain, "I believe she is seaworthy and if you can get a load of timber we can fill the hold and even take a deck load. Timber loads and discharges quickly. Our course, nearly all the way is protected, and if a blow comes we can easily find shelter," he concluded with suppressed eagerness.
"That's all right, but how about time? I don't want to lose a lot of time. We didn't start in to carry freight," said Hiram with determination.
"Go and see how soon they can load and be careful to settle the freight rate," suggested the captain. Hiram sprang to the deck. His mind seemed to be working like a trip hammer.
"Ben, can they do that?" he asked excitedly when he returned; but before I could reply he continued: "do you know, they threatened to commandeer our craft if we don't take timber to New Orleans. It's for Government work—can they do that?"
"Yes, they can."
"And they say we have nothing to say about the freight rate—that is fixed," he said, his eyes wide and keen with wonder at the new situation into which he had so suddenly plunged.
"The freight rate will no doubt be liberal enough," I suggested.
"Then we might just as well get the credit of doing it willingly," he wisely concluded, and was away again.
In less than half an hour we moved up about a thousand feet, and all the men available were busy crowding timber into theFearsome, continuing the work far into the night. The captain looked after the stowage and I was busy getting an emergency supply of gasoline, oil and sundry necessary supplies. Hiram provisioned and attended to other details. He was in an element natural to him and seemed to forget everything else. By daylight the next morning we had the hold full and a deck-load six feet high. In fact, theFearsomelooked like a floating, sawed timber raft, bound and tied together with log chains.
After breakfast as we were feeling our wayout of the river into the sound, Hiram came down very soberly to where I was attending to the engine. He was evidently well pleased. Hands that but a short while ago were manicured twice a week were now broadened, manly, brown and grease-stained.
"Don't you think we are short-handed?" he asked. "I tried to get some one but couldn't. I hate to have you stand by that motor long hours at a time. Perhaps I can help?"
"If the weather is good we ought to make the mouth of the river by night, anchor there, get some sleep and complete the journey to New Orleans to-morrow in daylight."
"Ben! do you mean to say we can make New Orleans in two days?" he asked in open-eyed wonder.
"If we don't get bad weather."
"Say, do you think I am awake—pinch me—take something and hit me on the head to be sure I am not astraddle a 'Night-Hoss,'" he suggested, pulling himself up on the head of one of the galvanized barrels of emergency gasoline near me, holding his head between his hands to keep his nerves from running away with him.
I looked at him and smiled but did not reply.
"Do you know we have two thousand dollars' worth of freight here, and you say we can get into New Orleans in two days? I must be dreaming."
"But have you figured all the expenses—bar pilotage—river pilotage, dockage and everything?"
"No—not all—but it can't possibly be five hundred dollars; and we can make the round trip in a week. Fifteen hundred dollars a week, Ben; and they say they have enough timber to be moved to keep us going for a year! Ben, I'm dreaming—a coke-eater's dream—and if it wasn't for that infernal Becker matter, how we could clean up!" He charged about savagely as though he had drunk mixed liquor and cocaine.
"You were up all last night; better get some sleep," I suggested.
"Yes, I haven't had a real night's sleep for a long time," he added, with a note of sadness, "and I don't want any yet."
Elated with success, the Becker matter was emphasized as a knife in his heart, and it was keeping him away from Anna Bell Morgan. Success has away of trying men's hearts in the most unexpected manner.
We made the river as calculated and on the second morning were fast to the dock and the much needed timber going off as fast as it went on. Although busy and most of the time reticent, Hiram, Jr., never failed to call my attention to the numerous logs and floating trees in the river, which he insisted would make good lumber, and just for the taking. I hurried to our rooms as soon as possible to get my mail.
There I found several notes of different dates from a man from New York then in New Orleans and waiting to see me about something very important. Entirely in the dark as to what he wanted, I arranged by telephone and met him at once at the Monteleon Hotel. I was disgusted. Great effort, loss of sleep and singleness of purpose to help Hiram, by cleaning up the case, made the business world appear as the full glare of a searchlight to eyes accustomed to thick darkness. It was about the barrel—he said he had come down from New York about it and exhibited one of the samples I had sent there. Bluntly, he said:
"We want the stuff and want you to put a price on it."
"But I don't want to be bothered about that stuff now." The fellow's lack of tact half angered me; his nervous eagerness undoubtedly whetted by his days of waiting for me did not fit in with my mood.
"Well—we need that color badly on Government fabric orders and if you refuse to put a price on it we may have to find another way," he said, with deliberation which, engrossed as I was, insulted me. His New England drawl grated on me somehow.
"Oh, if that is all you want, I'll name a price—you can have it for a hundred dollars a pound," I said, rising. I knew I was needed back on theFearsomeas soon as possible.
"Do you know that the pre-war price of that color was about seventy-five cents?" he quietly asked me.
"I don't know what the pre-war price was, but that is our price now," I said, walking away abruptly. I felt that I had much more important matters to consider then, and hurried down to the wharf where I supposed theFearsomewas being speedily unloaded.
Before I got within a thousand feet of where theFearsomewas I knew something was wrong. The boat was gone; Hiram Strong, Jr., sat on the end of a pile holding his head between both hands, and as I came still nearer I noted there was between Hiram's hands and head a paper folded like a legal document.
I had lately found myself wondering how Hiram, Jr., would behave when Dame Fortune landed her knuckles between his eyes with a staggering blow. I knew it had to come. I had become so attached to him that I dreaded it as one dreads to see a lovable child punished, though to its manifest advantage.
He did not say a word or move until I came up to him. There was something of a sneer and a contemptuous curl in his face when I looked the question I hesitated to ask. He sneered openly at the Jinx that had come to harass him.
"Well, Ben, I guess we have made the fatal mistake of underestimating the resources of our enemies—they've got us."
Hiramstill retained his nerve, but his anger and disappointment had become stolid as he handed me the paper and pointed to theFearsomeacross the river—the tug still alongside.
I stood before him, astonished and silent, hastily examining the paper. It was an injunction the court had issued, restraining him from interfering with the lawful owners of the boatFearsome, of which he had obtained possession by an irregular and fraudulent sale.
"The officer has just left," Hiram volunteered. "The captain and I were on the dock checking up when the tug came alongside. I thought nothing until they slipped our lines and she was away before I could walk twenty feet," he said, letting his foot drop to the dock despondently.
"Ben, I thought we had a right—she was sold for crew's wages. We had nothing to do with that. We only bid her in," he began, but with no note of censure, although I had attended to that detail.
"We have to know that."
"And has any one the right to take her—isn't that stealing?" he asked, suppressing his fierceness.
"They have her now in their possession and you are enjoined by the court from interfering," I said, half to myself, trying to think if I had heard of any hint of this procedure.
"Ben, do you suppose it is the Becker crowd—have they got wind of our plan, and are they doing this?" he asked, with wonderful self-possession.
"It may be, Hiram, but I doubt it—I am afraid the owners have shown up and are trying to regain their property in this way, alleging an irregular sale. They had to make some such showing to get the injunction."
"What can we do?" he snapped at me, as though becoming incensed at my deliberation.
"My boy—when passing amid rocks the captain must——"
"I beg your pardon, Ben—you can understand," he said quickly.
"Whether they are right or wrong to fight the courts means months' and perhaps years' delay—the only thing possible is to compromise."
"We must eat out of their hand Ben?" he started to heat up anew. We were so intent that we did not notice the approach of a quiet, middle-aged man who asked very politely for "Mr. Strong."
"Mr. Strong, I come from the office of the plaintiffs' attorneys. They have decided that they do not wish to interfere with the unloading of freight for the Government, and we will bring theFearsomealongside and let the cargo be discharged, provided you or the captain do not go aboard her—that is, not to attempt to dispute our possession."
"I was wondering how they were going to get away with that," Hiram jerked out impulsively.
"No, sir—we don't want to interfere that way—and more, Mr. Strong, I am to say that if you will come to our office possibly something can be arranged."
Then it was that impulsive youth and inexperience burst out, and while I was glad to hear him say it, I knew it was indiscreet. It was perhaps just what the Gold-Beater would have said at his age, and, in his present power, likely to do so now:
"You can tell the attorneys for the plaintiffs to goto hell," he said, springing to his feet. "This is plain stealing and there's a penitentiary for them. No—we won't go aboard; that timber must come ashore," and he posted off to get the crew of longshoremen to work at unloading again.
The quiet, polite man from the attorneys' office remarked to me: "The young man shows considerable mettle. If you are interested you had better come down to the office," handing me the firm's card and departing.
In another half-hour theFearsomewas in full mourning, black longshoremen swarming over it and the edge of the dock, but the tug remained lashed alongside. The long timber, sawed ten by ten and twelve by twelve, seemed to have some means of locomotion as though anxious to get on the wharf. I could see Hiram had a way of getting things done.
During this time I sat on the end of the pile where I had found him and watched the operation, thinking that my job was getting rather strenuous. I was as completely in the dark as to this last move as was Hiram.
Presently he came over to me. He had evidently been both working and thinking hard.
"Say, do you still think this move is made by the owners to get value for their property, or is it a rascally deal to block us?" he asked doggedly.
"I don't know—it may be one or the other, or even both—anyhow it's our next move."
Hiram rubbed his stubbly chin with one hand and then the other, and looked at theFearsomeas though in some way it had become a part of him.
"Somehow I feel it is the owners—perhaps this is the only way they could proceed—of course, she is worth twenty times what we paid—if it is, they ought to be reasonable. TheFearsomelying out there rotting, without power, and theFearsomewith power and at work, is very different, but they may rightfully expect more than the crew's back wages."
I nodded assent, wondering where his line of reasoning would lead.
"Now it may be only money they want—as soon as this load is out of her we can collect two thousand freight—and, Ben—you—you have not said anything lately about that barrel—is it possible to sell that now? Whatever it will bring will come inhandy to get time enough to pay this claim—there's lots of timber up there and they want it moved. If we can get enough help I believe we can make two trips a week instead of one. Three thousand a week will soon wipe them out—and sooner or later we've got to pay the railroad for that motor."
"But, Hiram, what about Becker & Co.? We started out to get into their place and we must not lose sight of that now."
"I know—I know—but if these men mean to be fair they must allow us time. Ben, you are a better diplomat; go down and see these attorneys."
"All right, I'll go at once—also I'll see what I can do with the barrel ofsteel filings," I said, rising with a smile, and digging him in the ribs jokingly—he was in good humor now. But it occurred to me that in my shabby treatment of the prospective buyer I had been as indiscreet as Hiram when he invited the attorneys to brimstone land, whereas they possibly meant well enough.
Hiram did not smile, but I was sure he felt a little relieved at my attitude when I left, intending to hunt up my caller from New York, who emphasizedthe first syllable of Bos'ton as though born to the manner of speech used in that great eastern port.
On my way back to the rooms to clean up a bit, I decided to see the attorneys first, and was considerably irritated to find the man after our barrel standing at the foot of my stairs, waiting sentry-like for me as though I had committed a crime. Something about the undersized fellow aggravated me, though I knew I had great need of him now. The impulse was strong upon me to put my foot on his stomach and shove him across the street into a curio shop. I was sure he wanted that barrel of color, but I didn't like his face. If I didn't sell it to him I could elsewhere, so I was obdurate. One hundred dollars per pound, cash, current funds in hand, take it or leave it, but say so quick, was all he could get out of me, as I kept thinking all the time of the necessity of washing up and getting over to see the attorneys.
He finally took me to his bankers, who told me his credit was practically unlimited with them, then he said he would take it on my terms. We went to the warehouse, got the barrel and weighed it carefully.He even paid me for the odd ounces and it was not until we went back to the bank and the money was actually in my possession, that I realized the size of the transaction. He then told me it was a very rare color and that only a small amount was required for blending, which was the reason they could pay so much.
It took most of the day, but I did have time to go to the attorney's office, and begin more jockeying for position. I soon learned they wanted money, not the boat, were even willing to take it on theexcitementplan, as Hiram suggested. It was worth more but they would take twenty thousand dollars. I thought they were distinctly disappointed when I offered cash.
I obtained some allowance for what we paid at the sale. I then returned to the rooms with a bill of sale for the vessel, knowing it would not be long before Hiram would come. I felt disposed to laugh. Some one's plans had miscarried.
I heard his step on the first stair. He came up this time one step at a time, as though carrying weights on each foot, and when he came in I sawhe was tired and hungry, but mystified and still fighting.
He came by way of his room, through the communicating door, into my room, where I was busy looking over a considerable mail, placed a chair back toward me, sat down on it reverse way, resting his arms on the back, let fall his big unshaven chin and looked from under the visor of his cap like a young lion ready to spring.
"Ben, you old dog, what have you been doing?" quick to gather assurance from my attitude. "Just before I left the dock the tug and all the men left, saying they were through so far as they knew."
"Yes, theFearsomeis released, and all claims against it settled."
"Yes—yes—but how did you do it?" he demanded.
Somehow at that moment it occurred to me that it might be best to tell the whole incredible story of the sale of the barrel of color which had been a standing joke between us. It was one of those extremely rare things that could happen only in war times, and I thought the flog of resistance better for him than the stimulant of easy success.
"Well, I induced them to cut their claim down some——"
"Yes—yes," he interrupted; "get to the point—how did you do it?"
"Well," I began again, "this morning I was too busy to tell you that a man came all the way from New York to buy our barrel of steel filings,—he's been waiting about all the time we have been gone on our trip—when I got through with him I had enough money to release theFearsomeand——"
"Ben," he interrupted, his eyes glittering, "you are an infernal—no, I won't say liar, because I don't believe you would lie—but you are romancing now to make me feel good, but——"
"All right, then, have it your way—all you need to know is that theFearsomeis released and you are free to do with her as you like—but just now I advise a shave for you and some stimulating food—for instance a beefsteak as big as——"
"Ben, it's got to be as big as the state of New Hampshire this time and as thick as the crust of the earth——" He interrupted himself by springing over the chair, as I thought to thump me on the back, but instead he grabbed my hand affectionately.He craved relief from a long strain; my information took effect upon him like the champagne he used to take, and at that moment refused to consider what it cost or its ultimate effect.