Local Color Part 38

"Lawrence," said Bronston, "you've been giving our shoes to Boots and getting them back from him, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are these shoes which I have on now the same shoes I've been wearing right along?"

"Oh, yes, sir, the same boots!"

"When you helped me pack my luggage to-day, did you notice any other shoes?"

"No, sir."

"I wasn't in my stocking feet when I came aboard, was I?"

"Oh, no, indeed, sir." This with a respectful smile.

"Then these must be the only shoes I have or have had, mustn't they?"

Before Lawrence could make answer to this question the s.h.i.+p's barber appeared at the first officer's elbow, touching his cap.

"You wanted me, sir?" he asked.

"I wanted you," put in Bronston. "Look at me closely, please. How long would you say that it has been since I wore a moustache?"

With the air of a scientist examining a rare and interesting specimen, the barber considered the speaker's upper lip.

"Not for some months, sir, I should say," he announced with professional gravity, while all the audience craned their necks to hear his words.

"Now, then," said Bronston, yanking Keller forward into the full light, "would you please look this prisoner over and tell us how long, in your opinion, it has been since he wore a moustache?"

A pause ensued; all waited for the decision.

"I should say, sir," stated the barber at the end of half a minute, "that 'e's been wearing a moustache lately--I should say that 'e must 'ave took it off quite recently. 'Is upper lip is still tender--tenderer than the rest of 'is face."

"But I took it off since we sailed," blared Keller. He turned furiously on Bronston. "d.a.m.n you, you conned me into taking it off!"

"Why should I do that?" parried Bronston coolly; his manner changed, becoming accusing. "Why should I persuade you to cut off the princ.i.p.al distinguis.h.i.+ng mark as set forth in the description that was sent to our people from London, the thing which aided me in tracing and finding you?"

A sputtered bellow was the answer from Keller, and a suggestion of applause the response from the crowd. The popular verdict had been rendered. Before the tribunal of the onlookers the prisoner stood convicted of being rightfully and properly a prisoner. Even in his present state Keller realised this, and filled for the moment with a sullen resignation he dropped his manacled hands.

"Remember," he groaned, "somebody'll pay out big damages if you let this man off this s.h.i.+p. That's all I've got to say now. He tricked me and he'll trick you, too, if he can!"

"Mr. First Officer," said Bronston, "hasn't this farce gone far enough?

Is there any lingering doubt in your mind regarding our proper ident.i.ties?"

The first officer shook his head. "I am satisfied," he said with unqualified conviction in his words; "quite satisfied. Indeed, sir, I was satisfied from the beginning. I only wished to be absolutely sure."

"I thought as much," said Bronston. "I am expecting a man from Scotland Yard to meet us here at Liverpool. Would you please bring him to me here? This man is dangerous, and I prefer to have a.s.sistance before taking him off the boat. Kindly explain the situation to the Scotland Yard man as he comes aboard, will you, please, and ask him to hurry."

"I understand," said Mr. Watts, moving back. "Clear the way, please," he bade those about him. "We are about to dock, I think."

He was a bit late. The steamer had already swung to, broadside, alongside the long landing stage, and just as Mr. Watts, in a great hurry, reached the rail, the gangway went out. But before the first eager sh.o.r.egoer could start down it, a square-jawed, stockily-built man, with short side whiskers, came briskly up it from the other end. He spoke ten words to the first officer, and the first officer, escorting him, bored back through the press to the foyer, explaining the situation in crisp sentences, as he made a path for the newcomer to the spot where Bronston, with his legs braced, was jamming the blasphemous and struggling Keller into an angle of the cabin wall. For Keller had once more grown violent. At sight of this the square-jawed man jumped forward to lend a hand.

"Inspector Drew, from Scotland Yard," he said, by way of introduction for himself as he grabbed for one of Keller's flailing legs.

"All right, inspector," answered Bronston, between hard-set teeth. "I'm glad to see you. I'm having trouble handling our man."

"So I see," said Drew, "but we'll cure that in a jiffy." He cured it by the expedient of throwing the whole weight of his body upon Keller.

Together he and Bronston pressed the captive flat and helpless against the woodwork.

"The boat train is waiting," panted Drew in Bronston's ear. "Shall we get our man aboard?"

"I'm not going on any train!" snorted Keller, his voice rising to an agonised shriek.

"Oh, yes, but you are, me beauty!" said the inspector. "Get him by the other arm," he told Bronston. "I'll take care of him on this side."

Propelled by an irresistible force, held fast by strong grips upon his coat-collar and his elbows, shoved along, while his feet dragged and scuffled under him and his pinioned hands waggled the air impotently, hurried on so fast that his profane sputterings gurgled and died in his throat--thus and after such a fas.h.i.+on did the hapless, helpless Keller travel across the deck and through the crowd, which parted before him and closed in behind; thus did he progress, without halt, across the landing dock, on past the stand of the customs office and out at the other side of the dock, where, upon tracks that ran along the quay, a train stood with steam up. Bodily he was flung in at an open coach door; roughly he was spun about and deposited like a sack of oats upon the seat of a compartment, and Inspector Drew, gasping for breath but triumphant, shoved a knee into his heaving chest to keep him there.

"Whew, that was a job!" puffed Bronston, releasing his grasp of their still feebly struggling charge. "Inspector, can you keep him where he is for just a minute or two? I'll see to it that the baggage is brought here."

"I can keep the gentleman quiet," said Drew, mending his grip and shoving down hard upon the wriggling human cus.h.i.+on beneath him.

"For G.o.d's sake, don't let him get away! Don't----" The rest was but m.u.f.fled gurglings and snortings, made meaningless and wordless by a sinewy, tweed-clad forearm, which was jammed across poor Keller's face with crus.h.i.+ng and extinguis.h.i.+ng violence.

"Go get your baggage," panted Inspector Drew. "He'll stay right 'ere with me, no fear." So Bronston stepped down out of the compartment and slammed the door fast behind him.

As the pa.s.sengers of the _Mesopotamia_ come swarming aboard the boat train, and as the boat train prepares to pull out for London, we may as well leave the inspector and the handcuffed detective wrestling there together in the narrow confines of that English railway compartment.

Because that was where Bronston left them.

THE END