The Ragged Edge Part 22

"I'll bet she still smells to heaven with sour coconut. Bring your liveralong?"

"I sometimes wonder if I have any--if it isn't the hole where it was that aches."

"You look pretty fit."

"Oh, a shave and a clean suit will do a lot. It's a pity you wouldn't give me the prescription instead of the medicine, so I could have it filled nearer home."

"I'd never set eyes on you again. You'd be coming up to Hong-Kong, but you'd be cutting out Canton. I'll bet you've been in Hong-Kong these two weeks already, and never a line to me."

"Didn't want any lectures spoiling a good time."

"How long will you be here?"

"To-morrow night. It's sixteen days down, with _The Tigress_. The South China will be dropping to a dead calm, and I want to use canvas as much as I can. You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry."

"What a life!"

"No worse than yours."

"But I'm a poor man. I'm always shy the price of the ticket home.

You're rich. You could return to civilization and have a good time all the rest of your days."

"Two weeks in Hong-Kong," replied McClintock, "is more than enough."

"But, Lord, man!--don't you ever get lonesome?"

"Don't you?"

"I'm too busy."

"So am I. I am carrying back a hundred new books and forty new records for the piano-player. Whenever I feel particularly gregarious, I take the launch and run over to Copeley's and play poker for a couple of days. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. I can't keep a good man beyond three pay-days. They want some fun, and there isn't any. No other white people within twenty miles. I've combed Hong-Kong. They all balk because there aren't any petticoats. I won't have a beachcomber on the island. The job is easy. The big pay strikes them; but when they find there's no place to spend it, good-bye!"

Tom the cook came in with the chops and the potatoes--the doctor's dinner--and McClintock fell to with a gusto which suggested that there was still some liver under his ribs. The doctor smoked his pipe thoughtfully.

"Mac, did you ever run across a missioner by the name of Enschede?"

"Enschede?" McClintock stared at the ceiling. "Sounds as if I had heard it, but I can't place it this minute. Certainly I never met him. Why?"

"I was just wondering. You say you need a man. Just how particular are you? Will he have to bring recommendations?"

"He will not. His face will be all I need. Have you got someone in mind for me?"

"Finish your breakfast and I'll tell you the story." Ten minutes later, the doctor, having marshalled all his facts chronologically, began his tale. He made it brief. "Of course, I haven't the least evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it's what I'd call a hunch; piecing this and that together."

"Are you friendly toward him?" asked McClintock, pa.s.sing a fine cigar across the table.

"Yes. The boy doesn't know it, but I dug into his trunk for something to identify him and stumbled upon some ma.n.u.scripts.

Pretty good stuff, some of it. The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done. You're always complaining that you can't keep anybody more than three months. If my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely."

"I don't know," said McClintock.

"But you said you weren't particular. Moreover, he's a Yale University man, and he'd be good company."

"What's he know about copra and native talk?"

"Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast enough."

"A fugitive."

"But that's the point--I don't know. But supposing he is? Supposing he made but one misstep? Your island would be a haven of security.

I know something about men."

"I agree to that. But it strikes me there's a n.i.g.g.e.r in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. Why are you so anxious?"

"Oh, if you can't see your way...."

"I'll have a look-see before I make any decision. It's your eagerness that bothers me. You seem to want this chap out of Canton."

The doctor hesitated, puffing his tobacco hastily. "There's a young woman."

"I remember now!" interrupted McClintock. "This Enschede--the missioner. One of his converted Kanakas dropped in one day. He called Enschede the Bellower. Seems Enschede's daughter ran away and left him, and he's combing the islands in search of her. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me."

"Well, this young lady I was about to describe," said the doctor, "is Enschede's daughter."

McClintock whistled. "Oho!" he said. "So she got away as far as this, eh? But where does she come in?"

The doctor recounted that side of the tale. "And so I want the boy out of the way," he concluded. "She in intensely impressionable and romantic, and probably she is giving the chap qualities he doesn't possess. All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth. You have to see her to understand."

"And what are you going to do with her, supposing I'm fool enough to take this boy with me?"

"Send her to my people, in case she cannot find her aunt."

"I see. Afraid there'll be a love-affair. Well, I'll have a look-see at this young De Maupa.s.sant. I know faces. Down in my part of the world it's all a man has to go by. But if he's in bed, how the devil is he going with me, supposing I decide to hire him? The mudhook comes up to-morrow night."

"I can get him aboard all right. A sea voyage under sail will be the making of him."

"Let's toddle over to the Victoria at once. I'll do anything in reason for you, old top; but no pig in a poke. Enschede's daughter.

Things happen out this way. That's a queer yarn."

"It's a queer girl."

"With a face as square and flat as a bottle of gin. I know the Dutch." He sent the doctor a sly glance.

"She's the most beautiful creature you ever set eyes on," said the doctor, warmly. "That's the whole difficulty. I want her to get forward, to set her among people who'll understand what to do with her."

"s.h.i.+p her back to her father"--sagely.

"No. I tell you, that girl would jump into the sea, rather.