The H. Bedford-Jones Pulp Fiction Megapack. H. Bedford-Jones
be landed?”
“At this time tomorrow night, sir,” returned Yu, “you will be ashore and on your way up-country. As you will travel all night, I respectfully suggest that you sleep as much as possible all day.”
“Do you expect any more such trouble as we’ve just had?” I asked.
“Yes, master.” Yu nodded thoughtfully. “We change crews at ten in the morning, when we reach a place this side of Nanfu. We shall have trouble getting past that town, but the new crew will probably bring some warning.”
I stared at him in stark amazement. “What system do you use? Wireless?” This was probably a shrewd guess, but Yu merely looked blank and refused to explain. As a matter of fact, I believe that Kohler did have a private wireless system of his own that covered a large portion of China.
O’Grady and I went back to sleep. What the Irishman thought about all this, was uncertain; yet he certainly enjoyed himself hugely. Nor did I care particularly what he thought. It was enough that he was a good comrade, and one to depend upon, as he had proven there at the Fuchow landing-stairs. It seemed to me that the mystery surrounding this adventure spiced it for him, and because of this he asked no questions.
Something went wrong with the engines, I believe, and we were an hour late at Nanfu. About two miles this side of the town, we slipped in to the shore, entered what appeared to be a canal mouth, and a moment later were floating in a hidden anchorage surrounded by trees. Here lay a wharf, a godown from which men were bringing fuel, a house sitting back from the water, long boathouses, and a small dry-dock; all of them quite invisible from the river. As we slid up to the landing, Yu approached the astonished pair of us.
“We shall be here twenty minutes, master,” he told me. “If you care to visit the guesthouse yonder, you will find luncheon ready. If not, you may care to stroll along the shore.”
“Is this a private estate?” I asked him, careful not to mention Kohler’s name before O’Grady. He grinned at that.
“Yes, master.”
O’Grady asked no questions, but he looked unwontedly thoughtful as we docked.
Now, how it was managed I don’t know, for I am certain there was no wireless aboard the launch. Perhaps it was prevision on the part of Kohler. At all events, we had no sooner lined up than a coolie presented himself at the wharf with an envelope, which he handed to me. I opened it with a word of apology to O’Grady, and found a curt note addressed to me and signed by Kohler. It read:
Yu is in charge until you leave the launch. Then everything is in your hands. Do not interfere with him or with what he does. Luck to you!
I tore up the message and went up to the guesthouse with O’Grady. There we found deft servants, an excellent luncheon, and some English magazines that were given us to take along.
Much as I knew of Kohler, this place was a revelation to me. The very significance of such a place was astounding. Certainly, the Japs knew nothing of it, although their strong influence permeated all Fukien province. They might have been watching the launch and Yu, might even have got their spy aboard her, and doubtless Kohler himself was surrounded by spies; but here they could not reach. Indeed, O’Grady and I saw several armed men at various points, and from the veranda of the bungalow I rather fancied that I discerned a line of barbed-wire forking out amid the trees, but was not certain.
When Yu summoned us to the launch, aboard which was a new and augmented crew of five men, he squatted down before us and spoke frankly, addressing me but speaking to O’Grady as well.
“Master, we shall have trouble passing Nanfu. Schneider is three hours ahead of us. Fifteen miles the other side of Nanfu, he will fall into a trap that I have set for him, but he has also set snares for us. The influence of Dubonnet & Cie. is very strong here. I suggest that you gentlemen separate and take different boats here.”
At this, O’Grady started slightly, and eyed Yu. Despite the message I had received, I shook my head.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Yu. Let’s go ahead.”
“Very well, master.” Yu rose. “We will not go aboard the same launch, but another, to which your things have been transferred.”
There was no getting around this fellow. He led us to the landing slip, toward which another craft was being fetched from a boathouse. Meantime, our first launch got under way. I noticed that beneath the after awning two of the crew were sitting; they wore whites and helmets, and might easily pass at a distance for me and O’Grady.
“Clever head,” murmured the Irishman. “Decoy, eh? It’s a smart lad he is, that chap Yu!”
We got aboard the second launch, which was a replica of the first in every respect, and in five minutes were heading out into the river. Then, at Yu’s suggestion, O’Grady and I went below. Before we went, however, we saw the first launch, well ahead of us, go toward the other side of the river, while upon her converged several craft that had been lying in wait, apparently.
Of Nanfu or what happened to the other launch, we saw nothing; the small cabin ports gave us no view at all, being obscured by waves most of the time.
When Yu at length summoned us above, the river was empty save for a couple of salt junks, and we settled down beneath the after-awning with a cold drink apiece. Before that drink had disappeared, we rounded a sweeping curve of the river and came into sight of our old friend Schneider.
A big launch was laid up, well heeled over, too, in some bad white-water to the left. We headed over that way and ran to within a hundred feet of her, the engines slowing down. Schneider, who had been waving for help, recognized us and desisted; he stood staring, in furious dismay and consternation.
“Nice day, old chap!” shouted O’Grady, lifting his glass. “Top o’ the mornin’ to ye!”
Yu, standing beside us, chuckled. Schneider shook his fist and shouted something that was lost on the wind. Later, I was to regret not having listened to his words.
“Sorry we can’t stop,” I shouted, for we were upwind. “Take your time, Schneider! No hurry at all, so far as you’re concerned.”
He shouted something else that was lost, although O’Grady’s name reached us, and shook his fist again. Then we were past and churning upriver once more, and I judged that we had left all enemies behind us.
Late that afternoon we landed, found mules and a complete camping-equipment waiting for us, and started into the mountains.
IV
When darkness fell that night, with the promise of the full moon ahead, we were toiling along a narrow and winding mountain road, which was no more than a trail. I thought in my folly that all our troubles were past, little reckoning what country we were in, and little knowing what this thirty miles of mountain road was to bring.
I was now definitely in command. Our six mafus had come from farther up the river, with their mules, to meet us, and knew nothing about our business; they were faithful men, however, armed with rifles. Two of them knew the way to Kiuling and served as guides. Yu was of course with us, also the steward from the launch, who acted as cook. There was a small tent for O’Grady and me, but little other baggage.
We expected to reach Kiuling sometime the following night, depending of course on the moon to light our way. Also, the roads would be deserted after dark, since tigers were plentiful in the district. Hearing this, O’Grady joyfully demanded a rifle, which was provided, and took the lead with one of the guides.
The trail was nothing short of vile, and I marveled that French should have come to such a place as Kiuling. Nowhere was there any road that a horse could have managed; we continually wound along steep, rocky hillsides, circling valleys which were pits of blackness in the moonlight, crossing swaying bamboo suspension bridges one at a time. The path wound about and meandered insanely, for there were no towns between us and Kiuling; but a straight trail would of course be open to devils, and so we curved.
A little after