One Wonderful Night: A Romance of New York
captain before you went on board the barge, would he be any the wiser
now? Just to prove the exceeding wisdom of my remarks, do you know
where you are at the present moment? Because _I_ don't."
The policeman stopped short, and gazed ahead with a new anxiety. The
mist was thinner here, and pin-points of light from a row of lamps
showed in a straight line for a considerable distance. For an instant
there was an embarrassed pause, because all three failed to remember
covering any similar stretch of level road after descending the hill
and turning into the lane leading to the Hudson.
"Did you notice a few minutes since that a low wall bounded the road on
both sides?" said Curtis, breaking a somewhat strained silence.
Yes, each had seen it.
"Well, I am inclined to believe," he went on, "that that wall formed
part of an accommodation bridge, under which the car passed in the dark
without our being aware of it. Indeed, I feel confident that if we
turn back along this main road, we shall meet our lane on the right,
and about three hundred yards from this very point."
They agreed to make the experiment, and Devar grinned broadly when the
lane presented itself exactly as Curtis had predicted.
"What did I tell you?" he cackled to the roundsman. "John D. is a
Chinese necromancer. I'm getting used to his tricks, and you will
catch the habit in another hour or two. By four o'clock you won't be
the least bit surprised if you find yourself flying across the New
Jersey flats in an aeroplane, or having a cup of hot coffee on board
the pilot steamer off Sandy Hook."
"I'll risk either of those unlikely things, sir, if we find your car
where we left it," They stepped out briskly. When all was said and
done, none of the three wished to be stranded in some unknown byway of
Westchester County at that ungodly hour, and their relief was great
when the stark outline of the crane became visible in an otherwise
impenetrable wall of darkness.
"By Jove! The car is here all right," crowed Devar joyously.
In the next few strides the automobile came in sight, the blaze of its
headlights casting a cheerful glow over the wharf. Brodie was standing
where the barge had been moored, and gazing blankly at the river; he
turned when he heard their footsteps, and ran quickly to the car.
"It's O. K., Arthur," cried Devar, realizing that the chauffeur might
be dreading an attack from the rear, "little Willie has returned, and
won't go boating again in a derelict barge at two o'clock in the
morning if he can help it."
"Oh, it's you, sir!" came the answer in a tone of vast relief. "My,
but I'm glad to see you! I didn't know what to do. I thought you were
safe enough, because I heard your voices as you drifted away, and I
fancied you might make the shore again lower down, but it seemed to be
a hopeless job to go in search of you, so, after things had calmed down
a bit, I decided to stop right here."
After the first gasp of excitement, there had crept into the placid
Brodie's voice a note of quiet jubilation which hinted at developments.
"Did anything happen after we sailed away?" asked Devar.
"Did you see anyone?" demanded the policeman.
"Things were quiet as the grave for quite a time after you gentlemen
disappeared," said Brodie, speaking with the unctuous slowness of a man
who has been vouchsafed the opportunity of his life and has grabbed it
with both hands.
"Something _did_ occur, then?" put in Devar impatiently.
"Nothing to speak of, sir--at first," came the irritating answer. "I
watched you go on board the barge, and I noticed her edging out into
the river, and it was easy enough to know that none of you had cast her
off, because what you said showed that you were even more surprised
than I was. So, sez I to meself, 'Arthur, me boy, barges don't untie
themselves from wharves in that casual sort of way, and at just the
right minute, too, for anyone who wanted to dispose of a cop,' begging
your pardon, Mr. Policeman, but that was the line of argument I had
with meself."
"Try the accelerator, Arthur," groaned Devar.
"If ever I meet with a bit of an accident, sir, I always pull up and
plan the wheel-marks; I carry a tape for the purpose, and it saves a
lot of hard swearing in court afterwards." Brodie spoke seriously, and
Devar vowed that he would interrupt no more, since he merely succeeded
in stimulating the man's torpid wits.
Even now, the chauffeur waited to allow his philosophy to sink into
minds which might prove unreceptive. Finding that there was no
likelihood of debate, he went on:
"It struck me, too, that a feller who didn't hesitate about shoving a
good car into a river must be a rank tough, the kind of character who
would jump at the chance of plugging me with a bullet, or two, for that
matter, and hiking off with the car, without anybody being the wiser,
so I nipped out from behind the wheel, and, taking care to keep away
from the light, crept in behind that pile of rock there," and he nodded
to the mass of dressed stone which filled one end of the wharf.
He waited, as though to make sure that they appreciated his
generalship. Devar's teeth grated, and McCulloch stirred uneasily, but
no one spoke.
"You'll notice that it is only a few feet away," he said, measuring the
distance with a thoughtful eye, "but, to make sure of reaching anybody
who might try to monkey with the car, I groped around until I had found
two half bricks. Then I waited. By that time, which was really less
than it takes me to tell you about it, there wasn't a sound to be heard
but the lapping of the river. The last thing I heard you say, Mr.
Howard, was----"
"I used language which no self-respecting chauffeur could possibly
repeat," broke in Devar despairingly.
"That's as may be, sir. Circumstances alter cases, as you will see
before I've done. Well, I listened to the river, which resembled
nothing in all the world so much as the sobbing of a child, but no one
stirred for such a time that I began to feel stiff, and I was thinking
that I might be acting like a fool for my pains when a head popped up
over the edge of the wharf."
Obviously, this sentence demanded a dramatic pause, and Brodie knew his
business. Perhaps he expected cries of horror from his audience, but
none was forthcoming, so, with a sigh, he continued:
"That cured the stiffness, gentlemen, I can assure you. I balanced one
of the half bricks in my left hand--I'm a left-handed man in many
things--and watched the head, while it was easy to see that the head
watched the car. 'Now,' sez I to meself, 'that's the whelp who
mistreated a car which had served him well, and he's reckoning in his
own mind that my car would suit his needs just as well as the one he
has lost.' I do believe I read that man's mind correctly. He might
have said out loud: 'That party of sports were muts. They're all
aboard the Hudson River liner, chauffeur and all.' I beg your pardon,
gentlemen, if I have put it awkwardly, but I am sort of feeling my way
towards the feller's sentiments, groping in the dark, as you might say."
Notwithstanding his effort at self-restraint, Devar felt that he must
speak or explode.
"Go right ahead, Arthur," he said. "Explain the position thoroughly.
The fog is lifting, and we have heaps of time before sunrise."
"The whole affair is a mighty queer business, sir," said Brodie
seriously. "The roundsman here will tell you how careful one has to be
in such matters. I have had a law-case or two in my time, and them
lawyers turn you inside out if you begin romancing. For instance, what
I've just told you isn't evidence. The man said nothing; neither did
I. We played a fine game of cat and mouse, only it happened that I was
the cat. . . . Well, it is getting late, so I'll get on with the
story. The head didn't budge for quite a while, but at last it made a
move, and soon the identical chauffeur who hit up the pace from 23rd
Street climbed on to the wharf and dodged in behind the crane. He had
something in his right hand, too, that I didn't like the look of, so I
gripped my chunk of brick mighty hard. This time he didn't wait so
long, but crept forward like a stage murderer, peeping this way and
that, but making for the car. Once he looked straight at where I was
crouching, and I was scared stiff, because a brick ain't any fair match
for one of them new-fangled pistols at six yards or so; but I guess he
was a bit nervy himself, and he didn't make out anything unusual in my
direction. Then he dodged right round the car to the back, and
returned on the side nearest to me. I suppose he reckoned all was safe
by that time, so he took hold of the crank and began to start the
engine. 'Now or never!' says I to meself, so up I gets, and my knee
joints cracked like--well, they cracked so loud that only the turning
of the crank stopped him from hearing them. With that, I let drive
with the half brick, and caught him square in the small of the back.
Down he went with a yell, and me on top of him. I had the second half
brick ready to batter his skull in if he showed fight, but the first
one had laid him out sufficient for my purpose, which was to get hold
of this."
Brodie's hand dived into a pocket, and he produced a particularly
vicious looking automatic pistol.
Then McCulloch said imperatively:
"You've got him. Where is he?"
Brodie was really an artist. Some men would have smirked with triumph,
but he merely jerked a thumb casually toward the automobile:
"In there!" he said.
The policeman ran to a door and wrenched it open. He turned the rays
of the lamp which he still held in his hand on to a figure, lying
kneeling on the floor in an extraordinary attitude. From a white face
a pair of gleaming eyes met his in a glance of hate and fear, but no
words came from the thin lips set in a line, and a moment's scrutiny
showed that the captive was bound hand and foot. Indeed, hands and
feet were fastened together with a stout cord, which had been passed
around the man's neck subsequently, so that he was in some danger of
suffocation if he endeavored to wriggle loose, or even straighten his
back, which was bent over his heels.
"He's all right," said Brodie, who had strolled leisurely after the
others. "I told him I was taking no chances, and was compelled to make
him uncomfortable, but that he wouldn't choke if he kept quiet. Of
course, he has had a rather trying wait, but I couldn't help that,
could I?"
"We give you best," growled McCulloch. "Did you stiffen him with the
half brick, then, that you were able to hunt around for a rope?"
"That helped some, but I also remarked that, if he moved, this toy of
his would surely go off by accident, and he seemed to think it might
hurt."
McCulloch held the lamp close to the livid, twisted face.
"Is this Anatole?" he said suddenly.
"Yes," said Curtis, with instant appreciation of his adroitness.
They were rewarded by the scowl which convulsed the mask-like face, and
terror set its unmistakable seal there. A harsh metallic voice came
from the huddled-up form.
"Cut this d--d rope, and let me stand on my feet!"
"There's no special hurry," said the policeman coolly. "We won't
object to making things more pleasant for you if you promise to take us
straight to your Hungarian friends."
Again that wave of dread which betokens the quailing heart of the
detected felon swept over the man's features, but he only swore again,
and protested that they had no right to torture him.
McCulloch saw that he had to deal with a hardened criminal, from whom
no conscience stricken confession would be forthcoming. He gave the
lamp to Curtis, stooped, and lifted the prisoner out on to the ground.