The Yellow Crayon Part 5

"Will you give me back that report?"

"When I have read it, with pleasure," Mr. Sabin answered. "Before, no."

Mr. Horser swallowed an exceedingly vicious oath. He struck the table lightly with his forefinger.

"Look here," he said. "If you'd lived in New York a couple of years, even a couple of months, you wouldn't talk like that. I tell you that I hold the government of this city in my right hand. I don't want to be unpleasant, but if that paper is not in my hands by the time you leave this table I shall have you arrested as you leave this room, and the papers taken from you."

"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said, "this is serious. On what charge may I ask should I be exposed to this inconvenience?"

"Charge be d.a.m.ned!" Mr. Horser answered. "The police don't want particulars from me. When I say do a thing they do it. They know that if they declined it would be their last day on the force."

Mr. Sabin filled his gla.s.s and leaned back in his chair.

"This," he remarked, "is interesting. I am always glad to have the opportunity of gaining an insight into the customs of different countries. I had an idea that America was a country remarkable for the amount of liberty enjoyed by its inhabitants. Your proposed course of action seems scarcely in keeping with this."

"What are you going to do? Come, I've got to have an answer."

"I don't quite understand," Mr. Sabin remarked, with a puzzled look, "what your official position is in connection with the police."

Mr. Horser's face was a very ugly sight. "Oh, curse my official position," he exclaimed thickly. "If you want proof of what I say you shall have it in less than five minutes. Skinner, be off and fetch a couple of constables."

"I really must protest," Mr. Sabin said. "Mr. Skinner is my guest, and I will not have him treated in this fas.h.i.+on, just as the terrapin is coming in, too. Sit down, Mr. Skinner, sit down. I will settle this matter with you in my room, Mr. Horser, after I have dined. I will not even discuss it before."

Mr. Horser opened his mouth twice, and closed it again. He knew that his opponent was simply playing to gain time, but, after all, he held the trump card. He could afford to wait. He turned to a waiter and ordered a cigar. Mr. Sabin and Mr. Skinner continued their dinner.

Conversation was a little difficult, though Mr. Sabin showed no signs of an impaired appet.i.te. Skinner was white with fear, and glanced every now and then nervously at his chief. Mr. Horser smoked without ceasing, and maintained an ominous silence. Mr. Sabin at last, with a sigh, rose, and lighting a cigarette, took his stick from the waiter and prepared to leave.

"I fear, Mr. Horser," he remarked, "that your presence has scarcely contributed to the cheerfulness of our repast. Mr. Skinner, am I to be favoured with your company also upstairs?"

Horser clutched that gentleman's arm and whispered a few words in his ear.

"Mr. Skinner," he said, "will join us presently. What is your number?"

"336," Mr. Sabin answered. "You will excuse my somewhat slow progress."

They crossed the hall and entered the elevator. Mr. Horser's face began to clear. In a moment or two they would be in Mr. Sabin's sitting-room-alone. He regarded with satisfaction the other's slim, delicate figure and the limp with which he moved. He felt that the danger was already over.

CHAPTER V

BUT, after all, things did not exactly turn out as Mr. Horser had imagined. The sight of the empty room and the closed door were satisfactory enough, and he did not hesitate for a moment.

"Look here, sir," he said, "you and I are going to settle this matter quick. Whatever you paid Skinner you can have back again. But I'm going to have that report."

He took a quick step forward with uplifted hand--and looked into the s.h.i.+ning muzzle of a tiny revolver. Behind it Mr. Sabin's face, no longer pleasant and courteous, had taken to itself some very grim lines.

"I am a weak man, Mr. Horser, but I am never without the means of self-defence," Mr. Sabin said in a still, cold tone. "Be so good as to sit down in that easy-chair."

Mr. Horser hesitated. For one moment he stood as though about to carry out his first intention. He stood glaring at his opponent, his face contracted into a snarl, his whole appearance hideous, almost b.e.s.t.i.a.l.

Mr. Sabin smiled upon him contemptuously--the maddening, compelling smile of the born aristocrat.

"Sit down!"

Mr. Horser sat down, whereupon Mr. Sabin followed suit.

"Now what have you to say to me?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.

"I want that report," was the dogged answer.

"You will not have it," Mr. Sabin answered. "You can take that for granted. You shall not take it from me by force, and I will see that you do not charm it out of my pocket by other means. The information which it contains is of the utmost possible importance to me. I have bought it and paid for it, and I shall use it."

Mr. Horser moistened his dry lips.

"I will give you," he said, "twenty thousand dollars for its return."

Mr. Sabin laughed softly.

"You bid high," he said. "I begin to suspect that our friends on the other side of the water have been more than ordinarily kind to you."

"I will give you--forty thousand dollars."

Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.

"So much? After all, that sounds more like fear than anything. You cannot hope to make a profitable deal out of that. Dear me! It seems only a few minutes ago that I heard your interesting friend, Mr.

Skinner, shake with laughter at the mention of such a thing as a secret society."

"Skinner is a blasted fool," Horser exclaimed fiercely. "Listen here, Mr. Sabin. You can read that report if you must, but, as I'm a living man you'll not stir from New York if you do. I'll make your life a h.e.l.l for you. Don't you understand that no one but a born fool would dare to quarrel with me in this city? I hold the prison keys, the police are mine. I shall make my own charge, whatever I choose, and they shall prove it for me."

Mr. Sabin shook his head.

"This sounds very shocking," he remarked. "I had no idea that the largest city of the most enlightened country in the world was in such a sorry plight."

"Oh, curse your sarcasm," Mr. Horser said. "I'm talking facts, and you've got to know them. Will you give up that report? You can find out all there is in it for yourself. But I'm going to give it you straight.

If I don't have that report back unread, you'll never leave New York."

Mr. Sabin was genuinely amused.

"My good fellow," he said, "you have made yourself a notorious person in this country by dint of incessant bullying and bribing and corruption of every sort. You may possess all the powers you claim. Your only mistake seems to be that you are too thick-headed to know when you are overmatched. I have been a diplomatist all my life," Mr. Sabin said, rising slowly to his feet, and with a sudden intent look upon his face, "and if I were to be outwitted by such a novice as you I should deserve to end my days--in New York."

Mr. Horser rose also to his feet. A smile of triumph was on his lips.

"Well," he said, "we-- Come in! Come in!" The door was thrown open.

Skinner and two policemen entered. Mr. Sabin leaned towards the wall, and in a second the room was plunged in darkness.

"Turn on the lights!" Skinner shouted. "Seize him! He's in that corner. Use your clubs!" Horser bawled. "Stand by the door one of you.

d.a.m.nation, where is that switch?"

He found it with a shout of triumph. Lights flared out in the room. They stared around into every corner. Mr. Sabin was not there. Then Horser saw the door leading into the bed-chamber, and flung himself against it with a hoa.r.s.e cry of rage.