Part 12 (1/2)

”Couldn't you try to reastralize them?” said somebody to Mr. Snoop.

”No, no,” said Mr. Snoop, still shaking. ”Better not try to. We must hush it up if we can.”

And the general a.s.sent to this sentiment showed that, after all, the principles of Bahee, or Indifference to Others, had taken a real root in the society.

”Hush it up,” cried everybody, and there was a general move towards the hall.

”Good Heavens!” exclaimed Mrs. Buncomhearst; ”our wraps!”

”Deastralized!” said the guests.

There was a moment of further consternation as everybody gazed at the spot where the ill-fated pile of furs and wraps had lain.

”Never mind,” said everybody, ”let's go without them-don't stay. Just think if the police should-”

And at the word police, all of a sudden there was heard in the street the clanging of a bell and the racing gallop of the horses of the police patrol wagon.

”The police!” cried everybody. ”Hush it up! Hush it up!” For of course the principles of Bahee are not known to the police.

In another moment the doorbell of the house rang with a long and violent peal, and in a second as it seemed, the whole hall was filled with bulky figures uniformed in blue.

”It's all right, Mrs. Ra.s.selyer-Brown,” cried a loud, firm voice from the sidewalk. ”We have them both. Everything is here. We got them before they'd gone a block. But if you don't mind, the police must get a couple of names for witnesses in the warrant.”

It was the Philippine chauffeur. But he was no longer attired as such. He wore the uniform of an inspector of police, and there was the metal badge of the Detective Department now ostentatiously outside his coat.

And beside him, one on each side of him, there stood the deastralized forms of Yahi-Bahi and Ram Spudd. They wore long overcoats, doubtless the contents of the magic parcels, and the Philippine chauffeur had a grip of iron on the neck of each as they stood. Mr. Spudd had lost his Oriental hair, and the face of Mr. Yahi-Bahi, perhaps in the struggle which had taken place, had been sc.r.a.ped white in patches.

They were making no attempt to break away. Indeed, Mr. Spudd, with that complete Bahee, or Submission to Fate, which is attained only by long services in state penitentiaries, was smiling and smoking a cigarette.

”We were waiting for them,” explained a tall police officer to the two or three ladies who now gathered round him with a return of courage. ”They had the stuff in a hand-cart and were pus.h.i.+ng it away. The chief caught them at the corner, and rang the patrol from there. You'll find everything all right, I think, ladies,” he added, as a burly a.s.sistant was seen carrying an armload of furs up the steps.

Somehow many of the ladies realized at the moment what cheery, safe, reliable people policemen in blue are, and what a friendly, familiar shelter they offer against the wiles of Oriental occultism.

”Are they old criminals?” someone asked.

”Yes, ma'am. They've worked this same thing in four cities already, and both of them have done time, and lots of it. They've only been out six months. No need to worry over them,” he concluded with a shrug of the shoulders.

So the furs were restored and the gold and the jewels parcelled out among the owners, and in due course Mr. Yahi-Bahi and Mr. Ram Spudd were lifted up into the patrol wagon where they seated themselves with a composure worthy of the best traditions of Jehumbabah and Bahoolapore. In fact, Mr. Spudd was heard to address the police as ”boys,” and to remark that they had ”got them good” that time.

So the seance ended and the guests vanished, and the Yahi-Bahi Society terminated itself without even a vote of dissolution.

And in all the later confidential discussions of the episode only one point of mysticism remained. After they had time really to reflect on it, free from all danger of arrest, the members of the society realized that on one point the police were entirely off the truth of things. For Mr. Yahi-Bahi, whether a thief or not, and whether he came from the Orient, or, as the police said, from Missouri, had actually succeeded in reastralizing Buddha.

Nor was anyone more emphatic on this point than Mrs. Ra.s.selyer-Brown herself.

”For after all,” she said, ”if it was not Buddha, who was it?”

And the question was never answered.