'And a bit too close to the Dutchman story. Personally, I think both tales were inspired by some glib confidence man in hopes of doing a salting job.'
'Can we go over that last part again, Watson?'
A memory caused me to chuckle, and then I was prodded by the finger of guilt.
'See here, Holmes, the Empire faces a crisis, and I'm relating tall tales that may have no basis in truth.'
'But stories have a root source, good chap, and sometimes it is of interest. Do inform me as to this 'salting' that you refer to.'
'Well, it is a swindle scheme, pure and simple. An attempt to sell a worthless mine at an inflated price, though it backfired on one rascal. Happened in Colorado, you see. Chap called Tabor was an unsuccessful proprietor of a general store who grubstaked two miners.'
'Grubstaked? You have picked up a most colorful vocabulary.'
'Supplied two prospectors with goods for a share in their findings.'
'Oh.'
'Well, the two men that he extended credit to discovered the 'Little Pittsburgh' mine, which was the richest find in Colorado up to that point. Within a short time, Tabor bought out his partners and became a multimillionaire. But his sudden affluence did not increase his business acumen. He would buy anything, and soon became known as an easy mark.'
'A what?'
'To put it bluntly, Holmes, a sucker. Some fellow in a far-off place called Leadville had a mine that had proved worthless, so he planted valuable ore in it, a process known as 'salting,' and then took Tabor to view the premises.'
'Making sure that he found the 'salted' ore, I take it.'
'Exactly. Tabor fell for the bait and purchased the mine. Paid better than one hundred thousand dollars for it, as I recall.'
'I noted that this story promoted some humor in you, but it seems a sad tale of chicanery to me.'
'It's not over, Holmes,' I said somewhat smugly. 'Tabor put a crew to work on the mine, and his foreman reported back to the tycoon that they had been had, that the mine was worthless. But Tabor was undaunted. 'Dig some more,' he said. 'I've a great name for it: the Matchless.''
'Ever hopeful, I see.'
'Possibly inspired. They dug ten feet down and discovered a vein that made the 'Little Pittsburgh' seem pale by comparison. The 'Matchless Mine' financed H. A. W. Tabor's honeymoon to Europe, during which he is rumored to have spent ten million dollars!'
Holmes's jaw actually dropped. 'My dear Watson, the sum you mention is mind-boggling. I wonder what the man who salted the mine . . .'
He was in the process of lighting a cigarette and held the match for a long moment, its flickering light reflected in his keen eyes. Then he completed the operation slowly.
'Salted the mine. By godfrey, Watson, that's it! At the risk of being repetitious, may I say again that you do possess the innate ability to say the right thing at the right time. Now, I must think.'
I could not get another word from him during our return trip to Cairo. He was in such a deep study that I did not dare try.
Chapter Seventeen
Holmes Seems Irrational
Following our active adventure in the Valley of the Kings, a long trip by rail was no antidote for my aches and pains, and the moment that Holmes and I returned to the welcome surroundings of our hotel, I found myself incapable of seriously thinking about the matter at hand, as critical as it was. A quick bath and I was between sheets and sunk in deep sleep. Night had fallen when I finally arose, considerably refreshed though stiff as a board. When I dressed and made my way to the sitting room of our suite, I was unprepared for the scene that greeted me.
Only Holmes was in evidence. Since he is tireless when on a case, I had not expected the sleuth to indulge in a siesta but rather a room crowded with colonial officialdom, discussing the next step in this most peculiar situation, which had strong overtones of international complications. There were evidences that Holmes had conferred with many, but to find him deserted when at the critical point of an investigation did bring me up short. I wondered if some new and unanticipated piece had been introduced to the complex chessboard that faced the great detective.
Holmes's pipe was going, emitting clouds of acrid smoke that served as evidence that his superb mind was toying with facts in search of a realistic pattern and a solution to the problems the pattern presented.
'Ah, Watson, you do appear much the better for your rest. Whilst you were so engaged, I've been able to resolve the necessary staff work attendant on the resolution of this sticky wicket we have chanced upon.'
I stifled a yawn and my senses sharpened. Could it be that Holmes would map out his plan of action, a step that he had seldom taken in the past?
'You did indicate during our journey by rail that an idea had come to you.'
'It has, prompted by your chance remark. Happily this inspiration has stood up before a searching analysis.'
Holmes rose to his feet and began pacing the room as he had so often within the familiar confines of 221B Baker Street.
'The Government has seen fit to accept—endorse, sponsor, if you will—an unofficial investigation into the problem of an Arabian uprising. I don't believe we need to underscore again the far-reaching damage that this outbreak might cause. We can accept the inclusive phrase that 'the situation is fraught with peril.' Alas, I must place some of the blame on my shoulders.'
'Oh, come now, Holmes, this madman's scheme, whatever it is, was not of your doing.'
'But his ability to do it, is. In a previous case of ours* I swore that I would smash Chu San Fu. Had I but held true to that idea, we might not be in Egypt now.'
'But Holmes, you broke Chu's hold on Limehouse and Soho.'
'We closed him down. But he has, phoenix-like, risen again from the ashes of his defeat. The Chu San Fu's of our world, Watson, are like a deadly bacillus. They can be rendered impotent by isolation, but if allowed to break free, they are just as capable of epidemical infection and death as before. Extermination becomes the sole solution, as extreme a policy as that may be.'
There was in Holmes's words a fatal conviction, and they produced a feeling of discomfort in me. His tone displayed an unusual fervor, alien to his normal cold and analytic manner.
'I have little reason to plead Chu's cause—'
'Nor I,' said Holmes before I could elaborate on my thought. 'The snake's fangs have to be removed. As I stated but a moment ago, this affair bears the name of an unofficial investigation, and after some thought I have decided to adhere to the title. We shall do what needs to be done, our way, my good chap. Can I interest you in dinner, prior to our departure for the native quarter of this strange city?'
Of course, I was dumbfounded. 'Holmes, you jest. Chu San Fu in his intellectual dotage may have fallen prey to a Caesar complex, but he is not stupid.'
'True, Watson. You are too old a hand to make the error of underestimating an opponent, and so am I.'
'You reinforce my thoughts,' I cried. 'You are a marked man. The Chinaman knows that only you have the imagination and the ability to anticipate his moves and divert them. I would think, nay, I know, that right now his first thought is to stop Sherlock Holmes.'
'Let us hope so, ol' chap. Dinner?'
From experience I knew that I had to bite back my remonstrances. Holmes had allowed the orchestra of his voice to play the overture, but I was going to have to wait for the first act of the opera of his composition.
What we had for dinner I cannot tell you. I was so consumed with worry that I ate without noticing the fare, certainly not according to my fashion. But one must admit that I had cause for concern. Holmes's tone when he discussed Chu San Fu and his second coming, as 'twere, had an ominous quality. That he would risk himself to stop
