VANDERDECKEN

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 538, 15 December 1928, Page 21

VANDERDECKEN

By

CHAPTER XXX.—THE RETURN OF SHAN. “And they’ve opened it,” said George. “Look at the way it’s tied up again—and that knot’s a granny. Oh, damn! What’s the use of bothering? We haven’t got her. Hank, clutch a hold of the damned thing and hide it somewhere and come on. Scatter and hunt.” Shan had made off due east. They heard his voice shouting, “Hi, there, hi, there! Tommie! Ahoy there!” Then Hank, throwing the parcel at the foot of a prominent upstanding rock, made off south and Bud north. The eagle of the Simaloa hills, having fed its young that morning, had returned to its watch tower and from there she saw the hunt. She

H. DE VERB STAUPOOLE.

saw Hank overtaking and kicking a Mexican, Bud chasing another Mexican, Shan pursuing a third. Philosophising, perhaps, on the craziness of human beings, she saw the chase of the Mexicans relinquished and the pursuers each now seemingly in pursuit of something else. An hour later Hank, returning to the rock where he had flung the bundle, found Bud. “She’s not here,” said Hank, “but she can’t be anywhere exse—l’m done —there’s nothing for it but to hike back and get all the Chinks and comb the place. It’s not the Mexicans. She’s maybe wandei’ed out here alone and fallen off a rock or into a hole or got sunstroke. Come on and fetch the Chinks.” “Where’s S.K.?” “I dunno. Chasing away there somewhere—come on.” He caught up the bundle and they stai’ted, the most dejected pair of human beings in Mexico at that moment. They couldn’t speak. They came through the defile in the cliffs and there on the sands lay the new beached boat, and on the sands the tents, and half in and out of her tent, sitting with her head in the shade and her feet in the sun, Tommie, reading a book. Hank dropped the bundle and ran toward her, shouting as he ran and waving his arms. Bud saw her spring up, evidently fancying some danger was upon them; then he saw Hank seizing her and jumping her round in a sort of dance. When he reached them, Hank had flung himself down on the sand and was laughing. ‘“He’s gone ci-azy,” said Tommie, laughing despite herself. “Where on earth you been?” “Been!” cried Geoi-ge. “Hunting Mexico for you, thinking you were lost. Where have you been?” “Me—only to get my book. I took the boat when you two were asleep and I got back here a few minutes ago and found you all gone.” “Well,” said Bud, sitting down on the sand. “I was asleep when Hank pulled me out by the leg, saying you were gone and the Mexicans had stolen you, then we all started off to chase them and hunt for you.” But didn’t you see the boat was gone?” asked she. "I only saw you were gone,” said Hank, “and the Mexicans.” “Hank told us they’d boned you and made off with you,” put in 'George. “I took it for gospel and started right off.” Hank snorted. “What else was a body to think? It gets me. Say, people, what’s wrong with this cruise, anyhow? Look at it.” The idea that his own frightful imag-

ination had not only launched the whole expedition, but had dragged Tommie in, broken up a picture show and wrecked a junk, to say nothing of the latter business, never dawned on him or his companions, nor the premonition that his imagination had not done with them yet. “Where’s S.K.?” asked Tommie suddenly. “Hunting away still,” l-eplied George. “What’s in that bundle?” “Oh, the bundle —why, it”s the boodle; the greasers must have dug it up—for we found it in the sack on the mule.” “The jewels?” “Yes.” “My!” said Tommie, her eyes wide and the colour coming to her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She seized on it. “I’ll help,” said Hank, “you’ll dirty your fingers with the string.” “Bother my fingers.” She had the string off a .d then, unwrapping the oilskin cover, came on sackcloth. Opening this unskilfully the whole contents shot out on her knees and the sand. Diamond i-ings, ten silver spoons, a diamond necklace, blazing, huge and vulgar, a diamond hair ornament like a tiara, a ring set with x’ubies, another with emeralds, a woman’s wrist-watch set with diamonds, and a silver pepper-pot. Twenty or thirty thousand dollars” worth of plunder, at least, and shouting with individuality. One could see the fat woman who once wore the necklace and tiara, almost; no wonder that the pirates had determined to give them a year to cool amid the sands of the Bay of Whales. “My!” said Tommie again, her eyes glittering as she gathered the things together carefully, spread the sackcloth and put them out. She brooded on them without another word, picking them up one by one, trying the rings on, holding up the necklace for all to admire, even the Chinks, who had drawn close and who seemed to understand that these were the things for which they had been digging. Then she put the lot on for fun, the tiara that nearly came over her ears, the necklace that nearly came down to her waist, the rings that hung loose on her fingers. Then, making a fan out of an old piece of paper, she got up and promenaded the sands, gathering up imaginary skirts and looking disdain upon her recent friends, till even the Chinks laughed. Then, all at once, she quitted fooling, became preternaturally grave and, sitting down again, did the things

up in the sackcloth and oilskin. George thought that she heaved a sigh as she tied the string. Hank noticed that she made a reef knot with her capable fingers and the fact gave him another little heart punch. “They’re worth a lot,” said George. “Thousands and thousands of dollars,” said Tommie. “Here, take them and hide them somewhere safe.” Hank took the bundle. “I’m going to take them right aboard,” declared he, “and shove them in the locker with the ship’s money. I won’t trust them another minute on this beach.” “Why, don’t be a fool,” said George, “we’ll all be going aboard when Shan comes, we’ve done our work here.” “It’s just on sundown,!’ said Hank, “and if he’s not here in another halfhour, we’ll have to stick the night. Can’t get all these tents moved in the dark, and I’m not going to leave ’em. It’s ten to one we’ll stick till morning, and I’m not going to have those jewels stay the night with us. Something would happen sure. Maybe those greasers would come back with more men to help them.” “Not they. They won’t stop running till next week.” “All the same these things have played us a good many tricks, and I want to stop their game." “Are you superstitious?” asked Tommie. “Not a bit, only I’ve got a hunch that they’re better on board.” “Oh, then, take them, take them.” said George, “if you must. And see here, you’d better bring off those two automatics and some cartridges in case we don’t get off to-night and those scamps make trouble.” “Sure,” said Hank. Off he started, calling the Chinks to man the boat, while George and Tommie set to and began to build the fire. Tommie, every now and then, took a glance toward the cliff as though the absence of Kearney were worrying her. When Hank came back he found them seated by the fire with the supper things spread, but no Kearney. “Hasn’t S.K. come back?” asked Hank, sitting down. “No,” replied George. The thought that he was still hunting for Tommie and that they had returned and were seated comfortably beginning their supper, came not only to the pair of them, but evidently, by her manner, to Miss Coulthurst. They tried to explain that they had come back not to give up the hunt, but to get the Chinks to help to comb the place, but the explanation seemed to fall rather flat. “I hope to goodness nothing has happened to him,” said George weakly. “Maybe you’d better cro and see,” suggested Tommie. Hank jumped to his feet. “Come on,” he cried. George was scrambling up also when a hail came from toward the cliffs and they saw the figure of S.K. in the first of the starlight, coming toward them across the sands.

He spotted the figure of Tommie long before he reached them, and concluded that the others had found her and brought her back. Walking like a man dead-beat, he came up to them and cast himself down to rest on the sand. “Thank God,” said he.

“Where you been?” asked Gecrge. “Been! Half over Mexico, kicking greasers, hunting—giv’s a drink. Say,” to Tommie, “where did they find you?” Tommie’s only answer was a little squirt of laughter. “She’d never gone,” said Hank. Then he told the whole story. Shan said nothing. Not one of them guessed the revolution that had suddenly taken place in his dead-tired mind. Beyond the bald fact that he had made a fool of himself hunting for hours for something that was not there, stood the truth that fate had worked things so that whenever he moved toward a decent act he got a snub on the nose from somewhere. His attempt to return those jewels to their proper owners had brought the whole McGinnis crowd on top of him and had made him start on this mad expedition; his attempt to rescue Tommie from the white slavers had made him ridiculous, anyhow to himself; this wild search of the last few hours had made him ridiculous in the eyes of his companions. One thing called up another till the hell broth in his mind, the feeling of “damn, everything.” was almost complete. What completed it was Tommie’s spurt of laughter. That was fatal. He said nothing hut began eating his supper with the rest. Then Hank, suddenly remembering the jewels, broke out, “Say! I forgot, -we’ve got a surprise for you. I’ll give you a hundred guesses and I’ll bet you won’t tell what it is.” “It’s the boodle,” cut in George. Then they told. Shan showed neither pleasure nor surprise; he went on eating. “Well, where is it?” said he at last. “On the yacht,” said Hank. “J rowed over and stowed it away, just before you came.” “You rowed over and stowed it away. What did you do that for?” “Safety.” “Safety—did you expect I was going to steal it?” “Lord! S.K.”, said Hank, “what’s getting at you?” “Nothing,” said the other, suddenly blazing out: “Well, as you have taken the stuff on board, you can take it back to ’Frisco without me. The expedition’s ended. You start off back to-morrow, I stay here. I’ve fulfilled my part of the contract. I’ve brought Vanderdecken on board your ship and I’ve brought you to the stuff and you’ve got it. In the contract I was to receive so much money down. I don’t want it. I can hoof it down to Mazatlan and get work among the Mexicans. You can leave me one of the automatics and some cartridges, that’s all I want.” (To be continued. >