The Blind Barber

hear a weight of bodies thud against the door inside.

'Dat old Barnacle!' roared Valvick, whose powerful hands were firmly clamped on the knob at the door as he held it. 'Dat!&—?./&???(!! ay show him! He t'ank we iss t'ieves, eh? By jumping Yudas, ay show him. Nobody effer tell me dat before; nobody! Ay show him. Qvick, lad; rope! Ve got to get rope and tie de door shut… '

'Wassermarrer?' inquired a voice behind Morgan.

The voice had to speak loudly and hoarsely, because insane riot banged at the door inside, mingled with baffled bellowings from the Queen Victoria's skipper. Morgan spun round, to see that the door of Cabin C 47 was open. Framed in the doorway, his shoulders filling it and wriggling out at either side, stood a young man who was likewise so tall that he had to bend his head to peer out. He had a flattened countenance and a ruminating jaw like a philosophical cow.

'Coroosh!' roared Valvick, with a blast of thankfulness. He panted. 'Bermondsey! Iss dat you?'

'Ho!' said the Bermondsey Terror, his face lighting up. 'Sir!'

'Bermondsey — qvick — dere is no time to argue. Ay haff done you a good turn wit' de toot-ache, eh?'

'Ho!' said the Bermondsey Terror.

'And you say you like to do me a good turn? Good! Den you do diss, eh? You hold diss door for me until we can go for help and get aw — can get rope to tie dem up. Here, you hold…'

Uttering his significant monosyllable, the other leaped from the door with a crack of his head on the doorpost which he seemed to mind not at all, and lent his weight to the knob.

'Wot's up?' he inquired.

'Dey iss robbers,' said Captain Valvick.

'Ho?'

'Dey steal my pearl cuff-links,' rumbled Captain Valvick, with rapid pantomime, 'and de platinum studs which my old mudder gave me. Dey steal dis yentleman's watch and his pocket-book wit' all de money… '

'Robbed you?'

'Yess. All ay want you to do iss hold de door v'ile—'

'Ho!' said the Bermondsey Terror, letting to the door to hitch up his belt. 'Lemme at 'em!'

'No!' roared the captain, with a hideous insight of what he had done with his burst of poetic fancy. 'No! Not dat! Only hold de door! Ay tell you it is de capt—'

The Bermondsey Terror's somewhat diminutive mind was concentrated on business. He hurled his fifteen stone at the door without pausing for explanation or protest. There was a thud and crackle; then a sound suggesting that two rather heavy bodies had been catapulted back across the cabin like bowling-pins. Then Bermondsey plunged Into the dark cabin.

'We've got to stop him!' panted Morgan, trying to get through the door. He was stopped by Valvick's arm. 'Listen! he'll—'

'Ay don't t'ink we can do not'ing but run,' said Valvick. 'No! Stay back. Ay am sorry for old Barnacle, but—'

From the cabin issued hideous muffled noises, language reminiscent of King Kong, and the clean inspiriting crack of knuckles against bone and flesh. A large suit-case sailed out of the darkness, as though from a lively spiritualist stance; banged against the opposite wall and showered underwear, socks, shirts, and papers. The passage began to be inundated with Dr. Kyle's possessions. Morgan, breaking loose, made another effort to dive in at the door. It was a gallant attempt, which might have succeeded if at that moment somebody had not thrown a chair.

Then he had a vague impression that somebody was dragging him away. Dimly he heard the Bermondsey Terror's hoarse voice announcing in muffled accents, between cracks, that he would teach people to steal pearl cuff-links and gold watches that their mothers gave them. When Morgan's wits cleared a second or more later, he was some distance from the scene of tumult. A new sound struck him — a deepening, gathering buzz and laughter. They were in the passage leading to the back stairs of the concert-hall.

'You ain't hurt!' Valvick was saying in his ear. 'It yust bump you. Brace up! Qvick, now! De hunt be up in a second, and we got to find a place to hide if we don't want to be put in irons… Sh-h-h! Walk careless! Here iss somebody… '

Morgan straightened up, feeling his eyes crossed in a buzzing head, as somebody stalked round the corner into the narrow gangway. It was a steward bearing a large tray on which there were six tall gilt-foil bottles. Paying no attention to them, the steward swung past and knocked at the door of the dressing-room. In response to his knock there was poked out a face of such appalling hideousness that Morgan blinked. It was a brown face with tangled black hair, murderous squint-eyes, and whiskers.

'Champagne, sir,' said the steward, crisply, 'for a Mr. D. H. Lawrence. That'll be six pounds six, sir.'

The cut-throat leered. On his head he placed rather rakishly a spiked helmet of brass set with emeralds and rubies; so that he could the better reach under an elaborate green robe, where he fumbled a moment, and then laid on the tray two American twenty-dollar bills. The bottles were mysteriously whisked inside by what appeared to be feminine hands behind the warrior. Then, as the steward hastened away, the warrior drew from its scabbard a broad curved scimitar and squinted evilly up and down the passage. Seeing Valvick and Morgan, he beckoned.

'Well?' inquired the voice of Curtis Warren, as the two conspirators tumbled into the dressing-room and Valvick locked the door. 'Did you get it back all right? Did you…?' The warrior stared. Thoughtfully he pushed his helmet forward and scratched his wig. 'What's the idea, Hank? You've still got the emerald! Look… '

Morgan nodded wearily. He glanced round. Uncle Jules was on the couch again, sprawled wide, while Peggy was trying to raise his head and insinuate a second dose of baking-soda under his twitching nose. There was a sharp plob as Mrs. Perrigord dexterously opened a bottle of champagne.

'You explain, Skipper.' said Morgan, sadly juggling the emerald in his palm. 'Suffice it to say that the game is up. U-up. Go on, Captain.'

Valvick sketched out a rough outline. 'You mean,' said Warren, quakes and bubbles beginning to show under his ferocious moustache—'you mean the Bermondsey Terror is down there murdering the old sardine for stealing Hank's watch? Why, oh why wasn't I there to see it? Yee-ow! I'd have given anything to see it! Curse the rotten luck, why do I have to miss every good thing…?'

Tears had come into Peggy's eyes again.

'lint,' she protested, 'why, oh why can't you lay off the poor old captain? What have you got against him, anyway? Why must you go about assaulting the poor dear captain every time you get out of my sight? It isn't fair. It isn't just, after he said he almost had a daughter like me off Cape Hatteras. It—'

'Owful!' said Mrs. Perrigord, clucking her tongue reprovingly. 'You owful, naughty boys, you. Have some champagne.'

'Well, why hass he got to be dere, anyway?' demanded Valvick, hotly. 'Ay tell you de old Barnacle call me a thief, and now ay am mad. Ay going to find out who iss at de bottom of diss business if ay haff to sving from de yard-arm lor it. And ay mean it.'

'He was only trying to do his duty, Skipper,' said Morgan. 'We ought to have been warned. You heard what ho said this afternoon: he wanted to have the honour of nabbing Kyle for himself. He and the second officer were probably there searching the cabin when they heard us coming. They ducked into the bathroom and when they opened the door and saw us they thought… well, what would you have thought? Skipper, it's no go. They'll be Having a search party out for us in five minutes. The only thing to do is to go to Whistler, try to explain, and take our medicine. God knows what they'll do to us; plenty, I should think. But… there you are.'

Valvick brought his arm down in a mighty gesture. 'Ay will not! Ay am mad now, and ay will not! Barnacle iss not going to put me in de brig like a drunken A.B. while diss crook laughs ha-ha. We are going to hide somewhere, dat iss what, so he don't catch us, and den—'

'What's the good of that?' Morgan wanted to know. 'Calm yourself, Skipper. Even if we could hide, which I doubt, what good would it do? We land day after tomorrow, and they'd be bound to catch us. We couldn't stay on the ship… '

'Haff you forgotten dat de New York detective iss coming aboard at Southampton to identify diss crook, eh?'

'Yes, but—'

'And de charge we got to avoid iss stealing de emerald… '