The H. Bedford-Jones Pulp Fiction Megapack. H. Bedford-Jones
top o’ the mornin’ to you, and many of the same!” Schneider joined us with his smoothly affable greeting, and we chatted until the hook was dropped and the launches came alongside.
I had little to say on the nine-mile ride upriver. This steamer captain had known me for an agent of Kohler; therefore Kohler must have sent out word concerning me to his entire organization. Schneider, too, knew me for what I was; therefore I could expect trouble ahead. This polished, affable Frenchman was capable of much. It was decent of O’Grady to tip me off regarding his own suspicions, yet to ask no questions!
We were landed at the Hwang-sung wharf. There were no ’rickshaws or carriages, nothing but filthy native chairs in sight, but as we glanced around, two chairs approached, sent by the hotel. We climbed into these and were carried to the next street and up to the hotel, while from across the river the great roar of the huge native city came to us like the hum of a beehive.
The afternoon was free. Neither O’Grady nor I had ever been here before, so we took chairs from the hotel and saw the sights on this side the river. The strong hand of the Japanese was much in evidence, for their influence controlled a great share of all Fukien province; it had been felt, indeed, even before our ship anchored off the white houses and the pagoda.
Upon returning to the hotel, I left O’Grady and went to my room. I had barely gotten ready to bathe and dress for dinner, when there came a knock at the door. I opened to see a coolie standing outside, and admitted him.
“You’re looking for me?” I asked. He responded in excellent English, with hardly a trace of accent.
“If you are Mr. George Breck.”
“I am.”
“Then,” and he peered up at me from under the rim of his wide hat, “you know the names of two pillars which were erected by a certain king of Israel?”
As I thought—Kohler’s man!
“One was Jachin,” I said. “The other, Boaz.”
He promptly squatted down before me.
“Good. You will trust yourself in my hands?”
I nodded assent to this, as a matter of course. He was to all appearances an ordinary coolie, but his features were good, although blurred by a half sprouted mustache and the beginnings of a beard. He was quite dark in hue, muscular and energetic, evidently intelligent. A good type of mission-trained coolie, I thought.
“In that case,” he responded, “you must leave here within an hour.”
“What!” I gathered the bath-towel around me and protested. “Impossible!”
“Then you will be sorry. The Japanese have already requested the American consul here to have you detained tonight, on a charge of smuggling opium. That is amusing, since the Japs themselves bring it in openly, but it is also dangerous.”
I thought quickly. Kohler had warned me against the Japs; and I might have known that they would strike secretly and swiftly. It was folly to stand on my dignity.
“Very well,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Yu.”
“I’ll go, Yu. Suppose you tell me how and where.”
“In an hour I will have a chair at the door for you. Take it openly and you will be brought to the dock. There a launch belonging to my master will be waiting. We go straight upriver for a hundred miles. Then we leave the launch at a place where men and mules await us. We go thirty miles into the hills, to the town of Kiuling in the Mong-yu range. There may be danger all the way, for your friend Schneider has already gone on upriver, and the Japs may also be watching.”
I regarded the fellow in some amazement.
“Whew! You seem to know everything there is to know. Yu! Suppose you go to room twelve and ask Mr. O’Grady to step here at once. He may like to go with us.”
Without the questions or protests that I half anticipated, Yu rose and departed. I made a quick tub, and was half dressed and shaving when O’Grady came into the room, with Yu at his heels.
“Hello!” I said. “Sorry I wasn’t in shape to go to your room, O’Grady. See here, I’m off in an hour’s time, upriver. This chap Yu brought me warning that I was likely to get into trouble unless I beat it in a hurry. Want to go along?”
“Of course,” drawled O’Grady, with a grin of delight. “I love trouble, old chap! Where do we go?”
“A hundred miles up the river, then into the hills. A launch is waiting for us. Can you make it?”
“Righto!” The Irishman made no inquiries as to the nature of my “trouble,” which I thought very white of him. “I’ll meet you downstairs, what? In forty minutes.”
He departed. I turned to Yu.
“What about dinner? What about—everything?”
“Leave everything to me, master,” said this marvel of a servant. “Two chairs will come for you, in my charge. Dinner will be served aboard the launch. You have a pistol?”
“No,” I said.
“Here is one.” He handed me an automatic, with a heavy little packet in which were extra clips, loaded. “Say nothing to the hotel people about departing; that will be attended to later. I will bring a porter to take charge of your bags.”
He was at the door, when I checked him.
“See here, Yu! If this chap Schneider has gone ahead of us, why haven’t you taken some measures to detain him?”
“I have,” he answered, and was gone.
It seemed to me that Kohler had some admirable servants.
The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that Yu was more than an ordinary coolie. His intelligence and education afforded evidence of it. When I encountered O’Grady downstairs, the Irishman surveyed me with a humorous twinkle in his eye.
“That number one boy of yours is an efficient beggar, eh?”
I nodded. “He’s a loan from a friend. By the way, I should tell you that I’m not a fugitive from justice, as you might think me; my enemies are purely commercial ones.”
He waved his hand and laughed.
“Devil take it, have I asked ye any questions? I like the cut of your jib, Breck, and that’s enough for me. I’m out for a holiday, and damn regulations! I fancy you have business of your own upriver, eh? Good! I’m glad to go along, and the more heads to hit, the better! And, me lad, if our friend Schneider is one o’ them makin’ trouble for you, just you give me first crack at him, mind! I’ve an idea that he’s a sly puss.”
His delight in the situation relieved me, although I was slightly puzzled by his indubitable fervency in speaking of Schneider as he did. I had feared that my talk of enemies might seem theatrical and absurd; but I had forgotten that I was dealing with an Irishman, who would delight in theatricals and to whom nothing could be absurd.
Yu appeared with two chairs, and we got off without incident. Darkness was falling, and our bearers took us directly to the wharf from which we had come that noon. Seen thus, Fuchow was a magnificent sight—the two bridges dotted with lanterns, the huge out-strung city across the river glimmering and quivering with lights to the hills far beyond, and the Nangtai district all ablaze with electric lights up the hillsides.
We found the wharves, at this hour, almost deserted. A few porters loafed about, but our launch was the only craft at the landing stage. The tide was in and she floated high, a long, narrow, steam-launch of light draft, but large and comfortable.
As we got out of the chairs, Yu stepped forward to confer with one of his men at the head of the stairs. At this instant I caught a low cry from O’Grady.
“Ware, Breck; ’ware the knife!”
I