Part 24 (2/2)
IX
A LIKELY STORY
”If I'm any judge, _that's_ no exaggeration.” Thus Mr. Staff after a moment's pause which he utilised to look Mr. Iff over with a critical eye.
Mr. Iff wagged his head. ”Believe _me_,” said he simply.
Staff fetched a decanter of Scotch and a gla.s.s, placing them on the table by Iff's elbow, then turned away to get a siphon of charged water from the icebox. But by the time he was back a staggering amount of whiskey had disappeared from the decanter, a moist but empty gla.s.s stood beside it, and Mr. Iff was stroking smiling lips with his delicate, claw-like fingers. He discontinued this occupation long enough to wave the siphon away.
”Not for me,” he said tersely. ”I've swallowed enough water this night to last me for the rest of my life--half of the North River, more or less; rather more, if you ask me.”
”What were you doing in the North River?”
”Swimming.”
This answer was evidently so adequate in Mr. Iff's understanding that he made no effort to elaborate upon it; so that presently, growing impatient, Staff felt called upon to ask:
”Well? What were you swimming for?”
”Dear life,” said Iff--”life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness: the incontestable birthright of every freeborn American citizen--if you must know.”
He relapsed into a reverie which seemed hugely diverting from the reminiscent twinkle in the little man's eyes. From this he emerged long enough to remark: ”That's prime whiskey, you know.... Thanks very much, I will.” And again fell silent, stroking his lips.
”I don't want to seem to pry,” said Staff at length, with elaborate irony; ”but in view of the fact that you've felt warranted in calling on me via the fire-escape at one A.M., it doesn't seem unreasonable of me to expect some sort of an explanation.”
”Oh, very well,” returned Iff, with resignation. ”What would you like to know?”
”Why did you disappear this morning--?”
”Yesterday morning,” Iff corrected dispa.s.sionately.
”--yesterday morning, and how?”
”Because the time seemed ripe for me to do my marvellous vanis.h.i.+ng stunt. You see, I had a hunch that the dear captain would turn things over in his mind and finally determine not to accept my credentials at their face value. So I kind of stuck round the wireless room with my ears intelligently p.r.i.c.ked forward. Sure enough, presently I heard the message go out, asking what about me and how so.”
”You mean you read the operator's sending by ear?”
”Sure; I've got a telegrapher's ear as long as a mule's.... Whereupon, knowing just about what sort of an answer 'd come through, I made up my mind to duck. And did.”
”But how--?”
”That'd be telling, and telling would get somebody aboard the Autocratic into terrible bad trouble if it ever leaked out. I crawled in out of the weather--let it go at that. I wish,” said Mr. Iff soulfully, ”those d.a.m.n' Pinkerton men had let it go at that. Once or twice I really thought they had me, or would have me the next minute. And they wouldn't give up. That's why I had to take to the water, after dark. My friend, who shall be nameless, lent me the loan of a rope and I s.h.i.+nned down and had a nice little swim before I found a place to crawl ash.o.r.e. I a.s.sure you that the North River tastes like h.e.l.l.... O thank you; don't mind if I do.”
”Then,” said Staff, watching the little man help himself on his own invitation--”Then you are Ismay!”
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