At the mention of Smooth Sam Fisher, however, his manner peeled off him like a skin, and he began to talk as himself, a racy and vigorous self vastly different from the episcopal person he thought it necessary to be when on duty.
“White,” I said, “do you know anything of Smooth Sam Fisher?”
He stared at me. I suppose the question, led up to by no previous remark, was unusual.
“I met a gentleman of the name of Buck MacGinnis—he was our visitor that night, by the way—and he was full of Sam. Do you know him?”
“Buck?”
“Either of them.”
“Well, I’ve never seen Buck, but I know all about him. There’s pepper to Buck.”
“So I should imagine. And Sam?”
“You may take it from me that there’s more pepper to Sam’s little finger than there is to Buck’s whole body. Sam could make Buck look like the last run of shad, if it came to a showdown. Buck’s just a common roughneck. Sam’s an educated man. He’s got brains.”
“So I gathered. Well, I’m glad to hear you speak so well of him, because that’s who I’m supposed to be.”
“How’s that?”
“Buck MacGinnis insists that I am Smooth Sam Fisher. Nothing I can say will shift him.”
White stared. He had very bright humorous brown eyes. Then he began to laugh.
“Well, what do you know about that?” he exclaimed. “Wouldn’t that jar you!”
“It would. I may say it did. He called me a hog for wanting to keep the Little Nugget to myself, and left threatening to ‘fix me.’ What would you say the verb ‘to fix’ signified in Mr. MacGinnis’s vocabulary?”
White was still chuckling quietly to himself.
“He’s a wonder!” he observed. “Can you beat it? Taking you for Smooth Sam!”
“He said he had never seen Smooth Sam. Have you?”
“Lord, yes.”
“Does he look like me?”
“Not a bit.”
“Do you think he’s over here in England?”
“Sam? I know he is.”
“Then Buck MacGinnis was right?”
“Dead right, as far as Sam being on the trail goes. Sam’s after the Nugget to get him this time. He’s tried often enough before, but we’ve been too smart for him. This time he allows he’s going to bring it off.”
“Then why haven’t we seen anything of him? Buck MacGinnis seems to be monopolizing the kidnapping industry in these parts.”
“Oh, Sam’ll show up when he feels good and ready. You can take it from me that Sam knows what he is doing. Sam’s a special pet of mine. I don’t give a flip for Buck MacGinnis.”
“I wish I had your cheery disposition! To me Buck MacGinnis seems a pretty important citizen. I wonder what he meant by ‘fix’?”
White, however, declined to leave the subject of Buck’s more gifted rival.
“Sam’s a college man, you know. That gives him a pull. He has brains, and can use them.”
“That was one of the points on which Buck MacGinnis reproached me. He said it was not fair to use my superior education.”
He laughed.
“Buck’s got no sense. That’s why you find him carrying on like a porch-climber. It’s his only notion of how to behave when he wants to do a job. And that’s why there’s only one man to keep your eye on in this thing of the Little Nugget, and that’s Sam. I wish you could get to know Sam. You’d like him.”
“You seem to look on him as a personal friend. I certainly don’t like Buck.”
“Oh, Buck!” said White scornfully.
We turned towards the house as the sound of the bell came to us across the field.
“Then you think we may count on Sam’s arrival, sooner or later, as a certainty?” I said.
“Surest thing you know.”
“You will have a busy time.”
“All in the day’s work.”
“I suppose I ought to look at it in that way. But I do wish I knew exactly what Buck meant by ‘fix.’ ”
White at last condescended to give his mind to the trivial point.
“I guess he’ll try to put one over on you with a sandbag,” he said carelessly. He seemed to face the prospect with calm.
“A sandbag, eh?” I said. “It sounds exciting.”
“And feels it. I know. I’ve had some.”
I parted from him at the door. As a comforter he had failed to qualify. He had not eased my mind to the slightest extent.
VII
Looking at it now I can see that the days which followed Audrey’s arrival at Sanstead marked the true beginning of our acquaintanceship. Before, during our engagement, we had been strangers, artificially tied together, and she had struggled against the chain. But now, for the first time, we were beginning to know each other, and were discovering that, after all, we had much in common.
It did not alarm me, this growing feeling of comradeship. Keenly on the alert as I was for the least sign that would show that I was in danger of weakening in my loyalty to Cynthia, I did not detect one in my friendliness for Audrey. On the contrary, I was hugely relieved, for it seemed to me that the danger was past. I had not imagined it possible that I could ever experience towards her such a tranquil emotion as this easy friendliness. For the last five years my imagination had been playing round her memory, until I suppose I had built up in my mind some almost superhuman image, some goddess. What I was passing through now, of course, though I was unaware of it, was the natural reaction from that state of mind. Instead of the goddess, I had found a companionable human being, and I imagined that I had effected the change myself, and by sheer force of will brought Audrey into a reasonable relation to the scheme of things.
I suppose a not too intelligent moth has much the same views with regard to the lamp. His last thought, as he enters the
