The Ragged Edge by Harold MacGrath (digital book reader TXT) 📕

the canal. There were three other ships at anchor; but as two would be making Shanghai and one rounding to Singapore two days hence, it was logically certain that no fugitive would seek haven in one of these.

But whither The Tigress was bound or who the owner was lay beyond the reach of Ah Cum's deductions. He did not particularly care. It was enough that Spurlock had been taken aboard The Tigress .

He wisely refrained from questioning the manager of the Victoria. He feared to antagonize that distinguished person. The Victoria was Ah Cum's bread and butter.

The telegram dispatched, his obligation cancelled, Ah Cum proceeded homeward, chuckling occasionally. The Yale spirit!

James Boyle O'Higgins was, as the saying goes, somewhat out of luck. Ah Cum's wire reached the Hong-Kong Hotel promptly enough; but O'Higgins was on board a United States cruiser, witnessing a bout between a British sailor and a sergeant in the U.S. Marines. It was a capital diversion; and as usual the Leatherneck bested the Britisher, in seven rounds. O'Higgins returned to town and made a night of it, nothing very wild, nothing very desperate. A modest drinking bout which had its windup in a fan-tan house over in Kowloon, where O'Higgins tussled with varying fortune until five in the morning.

When he was given the telegram he flew to the Praya, engaged the fast motor-boat he had previously bespoken against the need, and started for the Macao Passage, with the vague hope of speaking The Tigress . He hung round those broad waters from noon until three and realized that he had embarked upon a wild-goose chase. Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. He made Hong-Kong at dusk: wet, hungry, and a bit groggy for the want of sleep; but he was in no wise discouraged. The girl was in the game now, and that narrowed the circle.

The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. When the doctor came in-he had just finished his breakfast-O'Higgins rose and presented his card. Upon reading the name, the doctor's eyebrows went up.

"I rather fancy, as you Britishers say, that you know the nature of my visit?"

"I'm an American."

"Fine!" said O'Higgins, jovially. "We won't have any trouble understanding each other; same language. There's nothing on the card to indicate it, but I'm a detective."

O'Higgins threw out his chest, gave it a pat, and smiled. This smile warned the doctor not to underestimate the man. O'Higgins was all that the doctor had imagined a detective to be: a bulky policeman in civilian clothes. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes-now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard-the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture.

"Yes; I know I look it," said O'Higgins, amiably.

The doctor laughed. But he sobered instantly as he recollected that O'Higgins had found Spurlock once. Journeying blindly half way across the world, this man had found his quarry.

"I never wear false whiskers," went on O'Higgins. "The only disguise I ever put on is a dress-suit, and I look as natural as a pig at a Mahomedan dinner." O'Higgins was disarming the doctor. "Won't you sit down?"

"I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the doctor led the way. "What is it you want of me?"

"All you know about this young fellow Spurlock."

"What has he done?"

"He has just naturally peeved his Uncle Sam. Now, you know where he is bound."

"Did Ah Cum advise you?"

"He did pretty well for a Chinaman. But that's his American education. Now, it won't do a bit of good to warn Spurlock. He carries with him something that will mark him anywhere-the girl. Say, that girl fooled me at first glance. You see, we guys bump up against so much of the seamy side that we look upon everybody as guilty until proved innocent, which is hind-side-to. The second look told me I was wrong."

"I'm going to put one question," interrupted the doctor. "Was there any other woman back there in the States?"

"Nary a female. Oh, they are married fast. What are you going to tell me?"

"Nothing." But the doctor softened the refusal by smiling.

"For the sake of the girl. Well, I don't blame you on that ground. If the boy was legging it alone...."

"I'm a doctor. I took him out of the hands of death. Unless he has killed someone. I sha'n't utter a word."

"Killed someone?" O'Higgins laughed. "He wouldn't hurt a rabbit."

"You won't tell me what he has done?"

"If you'll tell me where he's heading."

"You can give me a little of his history, can't you? Something about his people?"

"Oh, his folks were all right. His father and mother are gone now. Rich folks, once. The boy had all kinds of opportunity; but it's the old story of father making it too easy. It's always hard work for a rich man's son to stand alone. Then you won't tell me where he's going?"

"I will tell you six months from now."

"Prolonging the misery. Unless he deserts the girl, he won't be so hard to find as formerly. You see, it's like this. The boss says to me: 'Higg, here's a guy we want back. He's down in Patagonia somewhere.' So I go to Patagonia. I know South America and Canada like the lines in my hand. This is my first venture over here. The point is, I know all the tricks in finding a man. Sure, I lose one occasionally-if he stays in New York. But if he starts a long jog, his name is Dennis. You may not know it, but it's easier to find a guy that's gone far than it is when he lays dogo in little old New York."

"You had Spurlock once."

O'Higgins grinned. "Women are always balling up and muddling clean cases. If this girl hadn't busted into the game, Spurlock would still be at the hotel."

The doctor was forced to admit the truth of this. Ruth out of the picture, he wouldn't have concerned himself so eagerly in regard to Spurlock's departure.

"I'm sorry, Mr. O'Higgins, but I decline to give you the least information."

The detective ruefully inspected the scarlet band on his perfecto. "And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. Well-born, well-educated; those are the lads that pay in full."

"You're a philosopher, too. I'll tell you something. One of the reasons why I decline to talk is this: that boy's punishment will be enough."

"That's not my game. They order me to get my man, and I get him. There ends my duty. What they do with him afterward is off my ticket, no concern of James Boyle; they can lock him up or let him go. Say, how about this Ah Cum: is he honest?"

"As the day is long."

"Didn't know but what I'd been out-bid. I offered him a hundred to watch Spurlock. Fifty in advance. This morning I met him at the dock, and he wouldn't take the other fifty. A queer nut. Imagine any one on this side refusing fifty bucks! Well, I'll be toddling along. Don't feel fussed upon my account. I get your side all right. H'm!"

Over the desk, on the wall, was a map of the South Pacific archipelagoes, embossed by a number of little circles drawn in red ink. O'Higgins eyed it thoughtfully.

"That's your hunting ground," said the doctor.

"It's a whale of a place. Ten thousand islands, and each one good for a night's rest. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years-without the girl. She's my meal-ticket. What are those little red circles?" O'Higgins asked, rising and inspecting the map. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. For a moment O'Higgins had hoped that the ink applications would be recent. "Been to those places?"

"No. Years ago I marked out an intinerary for myself; but the trip never materialized. Too busy."

"That's the way it goes. Well, I'll take myself off. But if I were you, I shouldn't warn Spurlock. Let him have his honeymoon. So long."

For a long time after O'Higgins had gone the doctor rocked in his swivel chair, his glance directed at the map. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him. The Dawn Pearl. It did not seem quite fair. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. And then this girl had to sweep into and out of his life! He recalled McClintock's comment about Spurlock being the kind that fell soft. Even this man-hunting machine was willing to grant the boy his honeymoon.

Meantime, O'Higgins wended his way to the Victoria, mulling over this and that phase, all matters little and big that bore upon the chase. Mac's. In one of the little red circles the doctor had traced that abbreviation. That could signify nothing except that the doctor had a friend down there somewhere, on an island in one of those archipelagoes. But the sheer immensity of the tract! James Boyle was certainly up against it, hard. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. She wouldn't be able to pass by anywhere without folks turning their heads.

Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. But what the deuce! He was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt. He had found Spurlock. In his condition the boy apparently had been as safe as in the lock-up. Why shouldn't James Boyle pinch out a little fun while waiting? How was he to anticipate the girl and the sea-tramp called The Tigress ? Something that wasn't in the play at all but had walked out of the scenery like the historical black cat?

"I'll have to punish a lot of tobacco to get the kinks out of this. Sure Mike!"

At the hotel he wrote a long letter to his chief, explaining every detail of the fizzle. Later he dispatched a cable announcing the escape and the sending of the letter. When he returned to Hong-Kong, there was a reply to his cable:

"Hang on. Find that boy."

Some order. South America was big; but ten thousand islands, scattered all over the biggest ocean on the map! Nearly all of them clear of the ship lanes and beaten tracks! The best thing he could do would be to call up the Quai d'Orsay and turn over the job to Lecocq. Only a book detective could dope this out.

What he needed most in this hour was a bottle of American rye-whisky and a friendly American bar-keep to talk to. He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. The barmaids had too strongly appealed to his sense of novelty. So he marched into the street, primarily bent upon making the favourable discovery. If there was a Yankee bar-keep in Hong-Kong, James Boyle would soon locate him. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy.

The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. The hotel on the Peak had the aspect of a fairy castle. The streets were full of colour. O'Higgins wandered into this street and that, studying the signs and resenting the Britisher's wariness in using too much