Mr. Moto Is So Sorry (22 page)

“There will be no mistake,” said Major Ahara earnestly. “When I leave here I can assure you that orders will be given to occupy Ghuru Nor.”

“That's fine,” said Captain Hamby, “fine—when you leave here.”

If Major Ahara made any response, Calvin Gates did not hear it, because his guards led him out of doors. Both of his arms were gripped tight, but the guards were not rough. He walked silently between them across a corner of the compound toward one of the warehouses which were built against the wall.

He was thinking of what Captain Hamby had said—that anything could happen in China; and now he was sure of it. If he had not seen it he would not have believed it possible that Captain Hamby or anyone else would dare to make such an attempt. It had the effrontery of banditry and the skill of diplomacy. Captain Hamby and the Prince of Ghuru Nor had made the camel compound into a small armed camp with Mr. Holtz to help them, and now in that temporary security they were estimating with whom it might be safer to deal, with Russia or Japan. A feeble Mongol chieftain was balancing two great powers, one against the other, a dangerous enough game and Calvin admired the Captain's skill. Undoubtedly he had been negotiating with both those powers, and now he was holding that cigarette case before them, watching as they both reached towards it. Calvin would have enjoyed that game of wits if he were not involved in it, but the guards walking beside him and the aura of grease and smoke which came from them reminded him that he was not a spectator, but a hostage for Captain Hamby's safety. Although it would do no good to kill him, there was a primitive sort of justice about the idea which would appeal to the Prince of Ghuru Nor.

They were leading him toward the closed door of a warehouse where a sentry stood with a rifle. One of his guards spoke a word of explanation. Then the door was shoved open a crack and Calvin Gates was pushed into an empty barnlike room, lighted with a single horn lantern which hung from the rafters. As the door slammed shut behind him he had an impression of a dry, strong smell of wool and of half-cured hides. He blinked for a moment at the feeble yellow light before he realized that he was not alone, and then he saw that he had nearly reached the end of his journey. He blinked again and cleared his throat.

“Hello, Dillaway,” he said.

CHAPTER XVIII

Miss Dillaway had been sitting on a packing box, and now she was on her feet hurrying toward him.

“Calvin,” she called, “Calvin Gates!”

He knew that she was glad to see him and she was not angry any more, but what surprised him was his own pleasure at seeing her. It was as though nothing else mattered. Something about her made his heart pound in his throat. She was not even pretending that she was not glad to see him. She had forgotten to be brisk and casual, just as she had forgotten once before.

“Hello, Dillaway,” he said again. “I've come to get you out of this.”

“Have you?” she answered. “You're the only one I know who'd be fool enough to try.” But the edge had left her voice. At first he thought she was laughing at him, and then he saw she was not.

“I'm afraid,” she said, “I've been so damned afraid.”

“It's going to be all right,” said Calvin, “We'll get out of here. Nobody's going to hurt you. It might be a whole lot worse.”

“I've been so damned afraid,” Miss Dillaway said, “and I don't like it, and I wouldn't admit it to anybody else but you, and I suppose you're pleased.”

The old sharpness was returning to her voice, but still he felt contented, because it told him that he had brought her confidence. She had as good as admitted that there was something in those qualities of his which she had ridiculed.

“I'm awfully glad to see you,” Calvin said. “I never knew I'd be so glad.”

His remark sounded futile. He reached toward her and touched her shoulder.

“Dillaway,” he began, “if we ever get out of this—”

She pushed his hand away, but she held it tight for a moment.

“If we ever get out of this, I'm going to keep an eye on you,” she said. “You need some sort of a guardian. I've been hearing about you, Gates. Don't you see who's in here with us? Don't you see Dr. Gilbreth?”

He had not noticed anyone else since he had set eyes on her, but now he saw a short, stocky man standing near them in a rumpled gray suit.

“Hello, Gilbreth,” he said, “what are you doing here?” He was scarcely surprised, because nothing any longer surprised him, but there was the man whom he had traveled halfway around the world to meet, and whose face had not been wholly out of his memory for a long time. Somehow he had expected it to be changed, but there it was exactly as it had been in the past, and not such a very distant past either. There was Dr. Gilbreth, the eminent scholar, the lecturer and explorer, staring at him and making the past the present. There was the same long nose, the same thin grayish hair, the same long weak and studious mouth, and Calvin Gates had his old sense of amazement as to what a girl who was young and good-looking could ever have seen in such a man. He certainly did not look well then. He was no longer a dinner guest, talking about his travels; he was dirty and haggard and his face was covered with a stubble of beard.

“What am I doing here?” he said. “I'm in a den of thieves, and so are you—in case you don't know it. The Prince—have you seen the Prince?—have you seen Captain Hamby? They're holding the whole expedition up for ransom. They've made me cable for funds. I'm going down with Hamby to the bank to draw them tomorrow morning. Don't ask me if there isn't anything else I can do. There isn't except to pay up and get out. There isn't any way to get help. There isn't anything. It isn't any joke, Gates. The Prince means business.”

“I guess he does,” said Calvin. “He seems like a very remarkable man.”

“He means business,” said Dr. Gilbreth. “I thought I knew how to handle the natives. Everything was quiet enough in Mongolia two years ago and now it's anarchy. What did they throw you in here for, Gates?”

Calvin Gates shrugged his shoulders.

“It's Captain Hamby's idea,” he said. “It looks as though the American flag won't do much good tonight, but I'm grateful to Hamby just the same. I wanted to see you, Gilbreth, and he promised I would. He's kept that part of his promise.”

Dr. Gilbreth looked surprised. He looked at Calvin Gates and looked away.

“I don't understand you,” he said. “You're not serious when you say you came all this way to see me personally. Wouldn't a letter or a cable have done just as well?”

“I don't think so,” Calvin Gates answered. He was reaching the point at last and with it the end of his journey. Yet now that it was time to speak he had his old desire to remain silent. “It's a delicate matter,” he said. “It concerns our family. You can help us, Dr. Gilbreth.”

Dr. Gilbreth looked puzzled. Calvin wondered if the Doctor understood. He was trying to think of some method of putting everything delicately, but he could think of none.

“You mean your family sent you out to see me?” Dr. Gilbreth asked. “I don't understand. There was absolutely nothing—”

“I don't blame you for being surprised,” said Calvin Gates. “We're such a long way from where we started, aren't we? It's hard to think back that far. They didn't send me, I came out myself.”

“But why?” said Dr. Gilbreth. “I don't understand why.”

Calvin Gates hesitated, still trying to choose words.

“Please excuse me for being so slow,” he said. “It's rather hard to talk about. I'd give a good deal if I didn't have to. When you were raising funds for your expedition out here, we were all interested, you remember.” He paused. It was not necessary to go into the details, because there was no doubt that Dr. Gilbreth remembered a good deal more than had been mentioned.

“You can't do things like this without money,” Dr. Gilbreth said.

“I know,” Calvin Gates agreed. “I don't criticize you. I'm not blaming you—for being interesting.”

Dr. Gilbreth looked embarrassed.

“Go ahead, Gates,” he said. “I know you're talking about that check.”

“How do you know,” Calvin asked, “that I'm talking about a check? Have you heard anything about it?”

“Never mind,” said Dr. Gilbreth. “I want to know what you're getting at.”

“All right,” said Calvin, and his own voice reflected the other's impatience. “My cousin, Bella Gates, gave you a check as a contribution to your funds. I wish it hadn't been so large, but it was, ten thousand dollars. She got it for you because you said you needed that money very badly.”

“I wish I hadn't put the thing so strongly,” Dr. Gilbreth said. “I never intended—”

“Never mind about that,” said Calvin. “I'm not criticizing and there's no reason to come to personalities. I don't care what she said to you, or what you said to her. She gave you a check for your expedition which was signed by her father. He's my uncle, Dr. Gilbreth, and I think a great deal of him. I'd like you to remember that. That check was honored by the bank. It's no concern of yours at all.” He paused again. He did not like to appeal to Dr. Gilbreth or to anybody else, and he went straight ahead, no longer trying to choose his words.

“On the first of the month when the vouchers came in, that check was found to be a forgery, and that's why I'm here. I announced that I had forged that check before I left.” He paused again and cleared his throat. “It came as rather of a shock, and now it looks as though the bank has taken the matter out of the family's hands. The authorities are investigating. You're certain to be asked questions because you know more about the circumstances. It's a delicate matter. We think a good deal of the family and my uncle brought me up, and he's had to put up with a good deal from me. When you are questioned I want you to say that I am the only one who could have forged that check. I can give you all the details, but I want you to be positive.”

He waited, but Dr. Gilbreth did not answer, and Calvin Gates continued.

“You told us you couldn't be reached by cable for three or four weeks at a time,” he said, “and I hope you were correct. When I left to come here I thought this whole business would be a skeleton in the family closet and the least said the better. Something must have happened back home. It seems this isn't the first time that there's been a forgery. I only found out the other day that the police at home were looking for me. It made it all the more important that I should see you. I didn't think the old man would do anything like that. He must have lost his temper. You have been out of touch, haven't you? You haven't heard anything about it? I'm taking my medicine for this, and I want to be sure I take it. From everything I've seen, they don't bother much about forgers here.”

Dr. Gilbreth was blankly silent. He started to speak and checked himself, and stared at Calvin Gates as though he had encountered an entirely new member of the human species.

“But you didn't,” he said. “I know you didn't forge it and I know who did.”

The time and the place made no difference now that he and Dr. Gilbreth were face to face. He was living again in a world which he was leaving forever, where nothing had mattered much but manners and security.

He was living through a good part of his past in the silence that followed. His mind moved through days and nights that were irrevocably gone before he answered.

“You're mistaken,” said Calvin, “I did it,” and then he added a remark which might have been inconsequential if both of them had not understood. “She was crazy about you, Gilbreth.”

Dr. Gilbreth still looked at him as though he were an unknown type of human being excavated from the ruins of some vanished civilization.

“I don't understand you.” Dr. Gilbreth's voice was embarrassed and incredulous. “I'm damned if I understand what you want. It's embarrassing to me. No matter how you look at it, there's going to be talk, but it had nothing to do with you. Do you mean to stand here seriously and tell me that you came out to this God-forsaken place in order to get me to help you to ruin yourself? There's no one alive who would do such a fool thing as that. I won't believe it. I can't believe it, Gates.”

Miss Dillaway's voice chimed in suddenly.

“Well, I believe it,” she said. “It's just the sort of thing he would do. It's just the sort of chance you'd jump at, isn't it, Gates?”

He had not intended anyone to hear that conversation. When all his motives were analyzed by an outside mind they appeared almost ludicrous, and besides it was a matter between himself and his own conscience. Now that he had spoken to Gilbreth, he had committed himself once and for all. He had been tempted not to, ever since he had seen Miss Dillaway, but he had spoken.

“This is something you don't know anything about,” he said. “For once in my life I've finished something I started.”

“Oh yes, I understand,” said Miss Dillaway. “We were talking about you, Gates.”

Dr. Gilbreth's face was still incredulous.

“But you haven't any motive for doing such a thing,” he said. “You didn't even like her. You two hardly spoke.”

“Does it make any difference?” Calvin answered. “That's entirely up to me. I did it for the old man, if you want to know. I don't amount to much back home, but I think a lot of him. It's better this way.”

There was a silence, as though no one could find an answer, and the silence was so long that Calvin spoke again.

“I suppose you think I'm a fool,” he said, “but it doesn't matter. After all, that's up to me. It's the first positive thing I've ever done. That's something.”

He had said as little as possible, for it was a subject which did not bear discussion, and yet he had an uncomfortable feeling that he had said everything, and perhaps too much.