The Ne'er-Do-Well Part 22

"WHO IS IT?"

"Mr. h'Auntony--"

"Anthony!" Mrs. Cortlandt started. "What has happened? Quick!"

Seeing that at last he had found a friend, the Jamaican began to sob with relief, wailing extravagant praises to G.o.d and apparently endeavoring to kiss Mrs. Cortlandt's hand, whereat she seized him by the shoulders and shook him, crying:

"Stop that! Behave yourself and tell me what is the trouble, quickly now, from the beginning."

Without drying his tears, Allan launched himself into the full violence of his recital, stumbling recklessly over his figures of speech, lapsing into idioms that it taxed his hearer to follow.

Had she been less acquainted with the Caribbean dialects she would have missed much of the story, but, as it was, she followed him closely, urging him on with sharp expressions of amazement and nods of understanding. Rapidly she gathered the facts of the case, while her cheeks whitened and her eyes grew dark with indignation.

The sight renewed Allan's emotion. His voice broke, his black hands shook, he began to sob once more, and great tears stole down his ebony cheeks. But he managed to answer her terse, shocked questions with some degree of intelligence, calling upon his vivid imagination for such details as his memory had lost.

"I wait an' wait for him to h'emerge, but he does not come.

Perhaps they 'ave killed the poor mon once more."

"How did you get here?"

"With my feet, mistress. Sometimes rode I on the train, but the train people are very common; they h'addressed me rudely and threw me by the wayside."

"Couldn't you telephone?"

"I do not h'understand 'ow."

"Why didn't he notify me at once? If I had only known--"

"Those 'eartless Spiggoties would not h'allow it. Oh, you will h'a.s.sist the poor mon! Say it. Praise be to G.o.d, he is bleeding in the prison--"

"Yes, yes, certainly."

Allan reached clumsily this time to kiss the hem of her skirt, but she stepped aside quickly, fumbling meanwhile in her purse for a bank-note, while he exclaimed:

"G.o.d bless you, good mistress. He told me to find you and present his recital."

"Here, take this money and go back to Colon by the first train. We may need you. Now go! I'll be there ahead of you."

She picked up her white skirts and ran up the hotel stairs as if pursued, bursting in upon her husband so impetuously that he rose in surprise, inquiring:

"What is it?"

"Young Anthony is in jail in Colon," she panted. "He's been locked up for three days, and they won't let him out."

"The devil! You said he'd gone back to New York. What is it about?"

"I thought he had. They arrested him for some silly thing, and he's hurt." She hurriedly recounted Allan's story, adding, in conclusion, "That black boy came all the way across the Isthmus to tell us!"

"I'll get the American consul by 'phone--"

But Mrs. Cortlandt interrupted. "Weeks is a fool! He wouldn't do anything. Wait!" She stepped to the instrument and rang violently.

"Give me Colonel Jolson's office, quickly. If he is not there, find him. I don't care where he is, find him; it is important.

This is Mrs. Cortlandt speaking.'

"What do you mean to do?" said Cortlandt.

"Go to Colon at once. This is young Alfarez's doing--the whipper- snapper--you must lay him out for this. How dare he!"

"Better go carefully. Remember, General Alfarez is his father."

"I understand. But we are bound to come to a breach sooner or later."

"I hardly think so. I believe we can bring him around all right-- anyhow, I haven't lost hope." Then, as his wife made an impatient gesture: "Well, if we precipitate a quarrel now, that will end it." He paced the room feverishly. "Good heavens, Edith! Anthony chose the worst possible time for this escapade. I suppose it will mean diplomatic difficulties and all that, and once we lose old Alfarez--"

"We will lose him anyhow," snapped the woman. "I've seen it coming, although you could not. I'll break Ramon for this."

"Then you'll break us." Cortlandt stared gloomily at his wife, who met his gaze squarely. "Do you think Anthony is worth it?"

"My dear Stephen, they nearly killed that poor boy, and I sha'n't allow it. Don Anibal Alfarez is not the only presidential timber in the republic. If he breaks with us it will cost him dearly. You think he is friendly, but I know that deep down in his crafty old heart he despises all us Americans and is only waiting a chance to gratify his spleen. The moment he dares, he'll turn against us."

Cortlandt's frosty countenance showed signs of unusual agitation as he answered: "You're mad! You threaten to ruin everything. You understand perfectly--there's no use of my explaining. Let me call on him this afternoon. He will instruct his son."

"No! He would procrastinate, as usual. There would be the customary delays and excuses, and meanwhile Anthony would be in jail at Colon. They would have a defence all prepared. Besides, if it's to be a fight we must have all the weapons possible--and this affair may prove a good one. Anyhow, you mustn't ask a favor of him at this time; he must ask, not you."

The telephone rang, and the speaker s.n.a.t.c.hed the receiver from its hook.

"h.e.l.lo! Colonel Jolson, I'm very glad I caught you. This is Mrs.

Cortlandt. Colonel Jolson, young Ramon Alfarez has arrested Kirk Anthony, of whom I spoke to you. They have maltreated him, as usual, and have hidden him for three days. Yes, yes! I discovered it quite by accident while Mr. Cortlandt was down-town. Oh, this is serious, and I'm furious. ... That will do no good; I have reasons for preferring to handle it myself. ... Thank you for the compliment. We must go to Colon at once, and I thought you might give us a special." There was a slight pause, then: "Good! That will do quite as well. In fifteen minutes. Thank you. Good-bye."

Turning to her husband, she explained, swiftly: "The Colonel's automobile will be waiting at the station in fifteen minutes. Are you ready?"

"I think you are going about this in the wrong way," he said, coldly. "When will you learn--?" She checked her crisp words at the flush that leaped to his cheeks. "I beg your pardon, Stephen.

Please do as Colonel Jolson has done and trust me to manage this affair."

He bowed and left her, saying, "I will have a coach waiting at the door."

Fifteen minutes later a gasoline railroad motor-car with two pa.s.sengers in addition to its driver and flagman rolled out of the yards at Panama City and took the main line, running under orders like a special train. As it clanked over the switches with ever- increasing speed, Mrs. Cortlandt leaned forward and spoke to the driver.

"We will have a clear track, and you may go as fast as you like."

The next moment the machine was reeling drunkenly around curves and a fifty-mile gale was roaring past.

Senor Ramen Alfarez was considerably nonplussed when his two distinguished visitors made known the nature of their errand.

Cortlandt did most of the talking, his cold hauteur serving a good purpose and contrasting strongly with the suppressed excitement of his wife.

"Pardon me, there is no necessity for delay," he said, as the commandant endeavored to formulate an excuse. "I trust I need not insist upon seeing the prisoner?" He raised his brows with a stare of inquiry that caused the other to reply, hastily:

"Of a certainty not, senor."

"Then take us to him."