Black Caesar's Clan Part 14

Then they were at the shallow porch of the hut and Milo Standish had thrown open its iron door letting out a gush of golden melody from the violin. At his hail, the music ceased. And Rodney Hade, fiddle in hand, appeared in the doorway.

"You're late," said the violinist, speaking to Milo with that ever-smiling suavity which Gavin recalled from the night before, and ignoring Gavin entirely "You've kept me waiting."

Despite the smooth voice and the eternal smile there was an undernote of rebuke in the words, as of a teacher who reproves a child for tardiness. And, meekly, Standish replied:

"I'm sorry. I was detained at Miami. And lunch was late. I got here as soon as I could. I--"

With an impatient little wave of one white hand. Hade checked his excuses and dismissed the subject. In the same moment his snakelike black eyes fixed themselves on Brice whom he seemed to notice for the first time. The eyes were smiling. But he granted the guest no further form of salutation, as he asked abruptly:

"Where have I seen you before?"

"You saw me last night," returned Gavin, still wondering at this man's dictatorial att.i.tude toward the aggressive Milo Standish and at Milo's almost cringing acceptance of it. "I was at the Standishes. I was just starting for bed when you dropped in. Miss Standish introduced--"

"I'm not speaking about last night," curtly interrupted Hade, though his voice was as soft as ever and his masklike face was set in its everlasting smile. "I mean, where did I run across you before last night?"

"Well. Mr. Bones," answered Gavin with flippant insolence, "Dat am de question propounded. Where did you-all run acrost me befo' las' night?"

Milo and Roke stirred convulsively, as if scandalized that any one should dare speak with such impudence to Hade. Rodney himself all but lost the eternal smile from his thin lips: and his voice was less suave than usual as he said:

"I don't care for impertinence, especially from employees.

You will bear that in mind. Now you will answer my question.

Where did I see you?"

"If you can't remember," countered Gavin, "you can hardly expect me to. I live in New York. I have lived there or thereabouts for a number of years. I was overseas--stationed at Bordeaux and then at Brest--for a few months in 1918. As a boy I lived on my father's farm in northern New York State, near Manlius. That's the best answer I can give you. If it will make you recall where you've seen me--all right. If not I'm afraid I can't help you out. In any case what does it matter? I don't claim to be anybody especial. I have no references. Mr. Standish knows that. If he's willing to give me some sort of job in spite of such drawbacks, it seems to be entirely his affair."

"The job I had--have--in mind for you," spoke up Milo, at a glance from Hade, "is on this key, here. I need an extra man in the main storehouse to oversee the roustabouts there. At this season Roke is too busy outdoors to keep the right kind of eye on them. The pay won't be large to start with. But if you make good at it. I may have something better to offer you on the mainland. Or I may not. In any case. I understand this is only a stopgap for you, and that you are down here for your health. If you are interested in the idea, well and good. If not--"

He paused and glanced at Hade as if for prompting. Throughout his harangue Standish had given Brice the impression of a man who recites a lesson taught him by another. Now Hade took up the tale.

"I think," said he smilingly--his momentary impatience gone--"I think, before answering--in fact before coming down to terms and other details--you might perhaps care to stroll around the island a little, and get an idea of it for yourself. It may be you won't care to stay here. It may be you will like it very much. Mr. Standish and I have some routine business to talk over with Roke. Suppose you take a walk over the place? Roke, a.s.sign one of the men to go with him and show him around."

With instant obedience. Roke started for the door. Indeed, he had almost reached it before Hade ceased speaking. Gavin raised his brows at this swift antic.i.p.ation of orders. And into his mind came an odd thought.

"You seemed surprised to see me this afternoon," said he as he followed Roke to the porch and closed the door behind them.

"Yet Mr. Hade had told you I was coming here. He had told you, and he had told you to have some one ready to show me over the island."

As he spoke Gavin indicated with a nod a man who was trotting across the sandy clearing toward them.

"Didn't know it was you!" grunted Roke, too surprised by the direct a.s.sertion to fence. "Said some feller would come with Mr. Standish. He--. How'd you know he told me?" he demanded in sudden angry bewilderment.

"There!" exclaimed Gavin admiringly. "I knew we'd chat along as lovingly as two turtle-doves when once we'd get really started. You're quite a talker when you want to be, Rokie my lad! If only you didn't speak as if you were trying to save words on a telegram. Here's the chap you'd ordered to be cruising in the offing as my escort, eh?" as the barefoot roustabout reached the porch. "All right. Good-by."

Leaving the grumbling and muttering Roke scowling after him.

Brice stepped out onto the sand to meet the newcomer. The roustabout apparently belonged to the conch tribe of which Milo had spoken. Thin, undersized, swarthy, with features that showed a trace of negro and perhaps of Indian blood as well, he had a furtive manner and seemed to cringe away from the Northerner as they set off across the clearing, toward the distant huts and still more distant orchards.

He was bareheaded and stoop-shouldered. Beyond a ragged pair of drill trousers--indescribably dirty--his only garment was a still dirtier and raggeder unders.h.i.+rt. His naked feet flapped awkwardly, like a turtle's. He was not a pretty or prepossessing sight.

Across the clearing he pattered, head down, still cringing away from the visitor. As the two entered the shadows of the nearest grove Gavin Brice glanced quickly around him on all sides. The conch did the same. Then the two moved on with the same distance between them as before.

And as they went Gavin spoke. He spoke in a low tone, not moving his lips or looking directly toward the other man.

"Good boy, Davy!" he said, approvingly. "How did you get the job of taking me around? I was afraid I'd have to look for you."

"Two other men were picked out to do it sir," said the conch without slackening his pace or turning his head. "One after the other. One was a n.i.g.g.e.r. One was a conch. Both of 'em got sick. I paid 'em to. And I paid the n.i.g.g.e.r an extra five to tell Roke I'd be the best man to steer you. He said he'd been on jobs with me before. He and the conch are malingering in the sick shed. Ipecac. I gave it to 'em."

"Good!" repeated Gavin. "Mighty good. Now what's the idea?"

"You're to be kept over here, sir," said the conch. "I don't know why. Roke told me you're a chum of Hade's, and that Hade's doing it to have a bit of fun with you. So I'm to lead you around awhile, showing you the plant and such. Then I'm to take you to the second storage hut and tell you we've got a new kind of avocado stored in there, and let you go in ahead of me, and I'm to slam the spring-lock door on you."

"Hm! That all, Davy?"

"Yes, sir. Except of course that it's a lie. Hade don't play jokes or have fun with any one. If he's trying to keep you locked up here a while it's most likely a sign he don't want you on the mainland for some reason. Maybe that sounds foolish. But it's all the head or tail I can make out of it, sir."

"It doesn't 'sound foolish,'" contradicted Brice. "As it happens it's just what he wants to do. I don't know just why.

But I mean to find out. He wants me away from a house over there. A house I had a lot of trouble in getting a foothold in. It's taken me the best part of a month. And now I don't mean to spend another month in getting back there."

"No, sir," said Davy, respectfully, still plodding on in front with head and shoulders bent. "No, sir. Of course.

But--if you'll let me ask, sir--does Hade know? Does he suspicion you? If that's why he's framed this then Roustabout Key is no place for you. No more is Dade County. He--"

"No," returned Gavin, smiling at the real terror that had crept into the other's tone. "He doesn't know. And I'm sure he doesn't suspect. But he has a notion he's seen me somewhere. And he's a man who doesn't take chances. Besides he wants me away from the Standish house. He wants every outsider away from it. And I knew this would be the likeliest place for him to maroon me. That's why I sent you word ....

I'm a bit wobbly in my beliefs about the Standishes,--one of them anyhow. Now, where's this storehouse prison of mine?"

"Over there, sir, to the right. But--"

"Take me over there. And walk slowly. I've some things to say to you on the way, and I want you to get them straight in your memory."

"Yes, sir," answered the conch, s.h.i.+fting his course, so as to bring his steps in a roundabout way toward the squat storeroom. "And before you begin there's an extra key to the room under the second packing box to the right. I made it from Roke's own key when I made duplicates of all the keys here. I put it there this morning. In case you should want to get out, you can say you found it lying on the floor there.

I rusted all the keys I made so they look old. He'll likely think it's an extra key that was lost somewhere in there."

"Thanks," said Gavin. "You're a good boy. And you've got sense. Now listen:--"

Talking swiftly and earnestly, he followed Davy toward the square little iron building, the conch outwardly making no sign that he heard. For, not many yards away, a handful of conchs and negroes were at work on a half-completed shed.

Davy came to the store-room door, and opened it. Then, turning to Brice he said aloud in the wretched dialect of his cla.s.s:

"Funny avocado fruits all pile up in yon. Mighty funny. Make yo' laugh. Want to go see? Look!"

He swung wide the iron door and pointed to the almost totally dark interior.

"Funny to see in yon," he said invitingly. "Never see any like 'em befo'. I strike light for you. Arter you, my boss."

One or two men working on the nearby shed had stopped their labor and were glancing covertly toward them.

"Oh, all right!" agreed Brice, his uninterested voice carrying well though it was not noticeably raised. "It seems a stuffy sort of hole. But I'll take a look at it if you like. Where's that light you're going to strike? It--"

As he spoke he sauntered into the storeroom. His lazy speech was cut short by the clangorous slamming of the iron door behind him. Conscientiously he pounded on the iron and yelled wrathful commands to Davy to open. Then when he thought he had made noise enough to add verity to his role and to free the conch from any onlooker's suspicion he desisted.

Groping his way through the dimness to the nearest box, he sat down, philosophically, to wait.