Chapter VII · LOOKING OUT FOR NUMBER ONE.

The play at the Ace of Spades was not heavy, and Kentuck went out to get a little fresh air and to escape from the old familiar scene of chips and cards and strained white faces.

Mike's death grieved him more than he would admit. There had been something in the little Irishman that had appealed to him strongly, probably his utter disregard for all law and conventions of society. The little man had lived in a world of his own, peopled with "wise guys" like himself and with "come-ons" and "John Laws," to be taken and fought respectively.

As he passed Vasquez's pulperia shop, Señora Vasquez leaned from the window and beckoned. "Señor Clark está en casa, amigo."

"Is he? Thank you, señora," answered Kentuck, who went through the cool drinking room and upstairs to where he knew Clark would be waiting.

"Hello, Clark," he said, as he shook hands. "What brought you this far inland?"

"Several things. Sit down and have a drink of this aguardiente the señora dug up for me."

"No, thanks—not before night; I may have to sit in a game. What do you know, Clark?"

"Quite a little. Monckton sent me over here to put you on the spot, Kentuck."

"Yes?" answered Kentuck calmly. "What for, Clark?"

"Did you by any chance know who the Kid was?"

"No, any more than he was one of Monckton's men from the south. Why, who was he?"

"One of Wang Li's special agents. Monckton himself didn't know it until just before the Kid came up to look this end over."

"He should have told me," stated Kentuck, with impassive face. "All I took him for was a young fool that might have talked a little in the wrong place; so I took no chances, according to instructions."

"Monckton thinks that feeding you to the lions might have a soothing effect on the Chang Kwang Tong," said Clark, with a grim smile.

"No doubt it would," Kentuck suavely agreed. "Just what happened, Clark? Did Langdon get back?"

"Yes, he got back—then he and Carewe went away, indefinitely, almost taking Monckton with them."

"What?" said Kentuck, surprised for a moment out of his pose of utter indifference to everything.

Clark told him of what had happened on the yacht, down to the last detail, ending with: "And I know that she will get me for killing Langdon, the first moment she can. It all rather clears the deck for us, Kentuck—if you have decided to go through."

"I had, a long time ago, whenever you were ready. This Tong thing complicates the play, though. If Wang Li does not think I am dead, the word will go out for all Chang Kwang men to see that I am assisted on the one-way trail, and they are very strong down here."

"That's easy," answered Clark. "I will take you for a ride, then come back and announce it, and pass the word that that's what happens to men that pull bonehead plays in the game. You drop out of sight. How do you stand with the rurales?"

"O. K. I can get any help I wish. Go on; what then?"

"You arrange to lay doggo somewhere near Port Isabel; say between there and Adair Bay," Clark explained. "Monckton makes headquarters between Tepoca and Lobos.

"When he wants to get to San Diego or San Francisco he lands there and goes up by car or plane, and now that Langdon's been knocked off, it'll be by car. You get your outfit together and patrol the coast. Keep close enough to the yacht so that you can see a messenger land. He'll be my Jap.

"Here"—Clark tore an envelope in half—"take this piece; I'll give him the other to show you. Here it is, cold turkey, Kentuck. I'll wait until I get the right play, then I'll pile the boat up on the beach; chances are, at night. It'll be right after the Jap gets to you with the message. All he'll say is, 'Let's go,' or 'To-night.' The ship's an oil burner, and I can turn her over and cut the anchor loose and have her on the beach before they know it.

"You be ready with some of your friends and boil over the side to the rescue. Get it? I've a damn good idea where the jewels are. In the excitement I'm very much afraid that Mr. Monckton is going to get hurt, also that she-devil that's out for me. Wait a minute—better save her. In case we don't find the stuff she'll come in handy to tell us, with a little persuasion. You tell your outfit that they can have the looting of the boat. There's all kinds of gold and silver junk on board. You and I will get the sparklers and be on our way to Paris. There's over a million dollars' worth, Kentuck. You fully understand? When you come on board, either you or I will kill Monckton and—"

"I will have one or two men with me that can attend to it," interrupted Kentuck. "How about the rest of the crew?"

"Davis is harmless. The second and third don't know what it's all about; they're squareheads, and do as they're told. Maybe a couple of Monckton's old men will put up a fight. If they do we can take care of them easily enough. Any chance of your bunch trying a double cross?"

"A very good chance; but they can't get away with it. I'll take Fernando Rodriguez in with me, up to the jewel level. He's jefe down there, and he'll keep 'em fairly straight, to get his. You and I can handle it, Clark."

"Certainly. I've one or two friends on board myself that will give me a hand for a little cut. No one in the crew knows about the stones. Are you ready to go?"

"I always stay that way," answered Kentuck. "I'm ready whenever you are. When do you figure on making the play?"

"Can't tell—maybe a week or so. You keep the yacht covered from shore. If he pulls out for other waters I'll get word to you."

"And when we board her, Monckton is to be killed and the woman also, if you have located the jewels; then you and I ease off as soon as possible. That's it, isn't it?"

"Exactly," answered Clark, with a cold smile. "If you're ready, let me take you for a ride. Hope you don't mind getting bumped off like this?"

They smiled bleakly at each other.

When Clark arrived on board the Carmen he was met by the second officer.

"Mr. Monckton's compliments, Mr. Clark, and will you see him as soon as possible?"

"My compliments to Mr. Monckton, and I will report to him just as soon as I have freshened up a bit. How is he, Mr. Larson?"

"Very much better, sir. The doctor says that he will be able to go on shore almost any time now. He's got a mean-looking scar on his forehead, though."

"That's too bad. Everything all right?"

"Yes, sir," answered young Larson. "Mr. Monckton requested Captain Davis to cancel all shore leave. One of the men went over the side some time ago and hasn't shown up since."

Monckton was sitting in an easy-chair when Clark entered his suite. "Hello, Clark," he said. "Sit down. There's some drinks on the stand."

His face was as usual, but pale and drawn-looking. Langdon's bullet had just missed his lungs, and that, coupled with the blood he had lost from the scalp wound, had drained him of a lot of vitality, but his nerve was intact and his eyes active.

They chatted for a moment or so about little things, as long as Monckton's man, who was cleaning up, was in the room. When he went out Monckton motioned to Clark to lock the door even more securely than the snap lock made it, by shooting the bolt.

"I've been a bit jumpy, I think," he said with a smile, "ever since that sailor disappeared. You left before we missed him, didn't you?"

"Yes," answered Clark, pouring out a drink. "I intended to give orders that night, but the shooting drove it out of my mind temporarily. You remember, just as soon as you came to again, you told me to go and attend to Kentuck? Larson told me when I came on board that a man had gone over the side. Probably nothing in it but a plain case of jumping ship. I'll have him looked up, though. He's no doubt hanging around some dump near Yuma, as they generally do."

"No doubt you're right," said Monckton. "The boson says that he did order him to clean up the launch earlier in the day. Well, did you see that Kentuck was—safely settled?"

"Yes, sir. He had no idea, of course. I took him to a place where it was very quiet, and settled him down. Then I caused the rumor to leak out that he had become a little careless and had been—transferred."

"Quite right, Clark. By George, that reminds me of Carewe. Too bad he went crazy that way. I could have handled Langdon, I think."

"Carewe was in love with Mrs. Monckton," answered Clark calmly, "and when he found out that Langdon—"

Monckton laughed, holding his wounded chest as he did. "Why, it was like a French comedy, wasn't it? Do you know, I had never suspected that! How do you know, Clark?"

"I had the deck one night, and it got stuffy up on the bridge, and I walked aft. I overheard him tell Mrs. Monckton so."

Monckton smiled. "No wonder you know, then. Er—by any chance are you in love with her also?"

Clark, his lips twisted into a grim smile, shook his head. "No, sir. I am in love with no woman, nor ever have been."

"Well, let's get down to business. I'm going to promote you, Clark. Carewe and Langdon are both gone; Kentuck is gone, and Davis is good for only running a boat. I don't want to pull any of the rest in closer. There are plenty of flyers to be had, so Langdon's place can be filled. Carewe has left quite a hole, though. He attended to most of the financial matters with the Tongs. If you care to take it on, your cut will be the same as his was. After overhead had been paid, he drew one-third."

"That is very satisfactory, Mr. Monckton," answered Clark, "and I see no reason why we cannot—"

They heard the deck watch forward hail:

"Lay off! Officer of the deck—small boat on port side amidship wants to board us!"

Monckton started to rise, then sank back. "See who it is, Clark, there's a good chap."

Clark went on deck and to the rail. In the small boat, rowed by two Mexicans, sat a well-dressed Chinaman fanning himself with his neat straw hat, which bore the colors of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology as a hatband. He waved his hand in a quick signal when he saw Clark.

As Clark ordered the port gangplank lowered, the Chinaman gave an order to his two oarsmen, who strained at the oars in a way that showed fear of their passenger as well as a desire to please him by fast work—something which a Mexican avoids whenever possible.

Clark met the Chinaman at the top step of the gangplank and shook hands with him. He was Chieh-yu, Wang Li's first lieutenant, and second only to him in the Chang Kwangs. Boston Tech graduate, mining engineer, student of literature, chess player, rich and cultured—and with it all he was, first, last, and all the time, a Chang Kwang, as his fathers had been before him for generations.

When Clark brought him to Monckton, explaining on the way that the yacht owner was unable to come on deck, Monckton tried to rise. "Pardon my not getting up, old chap," he said. "I am still under the doctor's orders. Mr. Clark, will you ring for a steward, please? Sit down, Chieh-yu. Is there anything special you would like to have to drink?"

"The ride was a hot, long, dusty one," answered the young Chinaman, with a smile, "and the last part in the little boat was hottest of all. I would really like a mint julep. I have always remembered the ones I had when I had the pleasure of coming on board the Carmen at Havana last year."

"Sanetomo," said Monckton to the Jap steward who had materialized like magic out of the companionway to the owner's suite, "start making mint juleps and keep on until I tell you to stop."

The Jap drew his breath in with a hissing sound, bowed, said "Sir, can do," and disappeared.

"One or two will be plenty," said Chieh-yu, with a small smile. "Wang Li asked me to see you, Mr. Monckton, to ask if it would be convenient for you to come up to San Francisco for a conference."

"Certainly," answered Monckton. "The doctor tells me that he will release me almost any time. I will be there Friday or Saturday."

"That will be quite all right," said Chieh-yu.

Monckton knew that Chieh-yu was high in the Chang Kwang councils, and that he knew just how Wang Li had taken the killing of the Kid; and he also knew enough not to ask Chieh-yu anything about it.

The mint juleps arrived and the rest of the hour was spent discussing China of the Ming dynasty and the Chinese method of candying fruits. Clark excused himself and went on deck.

As Chieh-yu went over the side he smiled at Clark, whom he liked. "We hope to see more of you, Mr. Clark," he said. "Mr. Monckton has been telling me of the sad accident to Mr. Carewe and Mr. Langdon."

"Thanks," replied Clark. "I hope you will."

He stood and watched the Mexicans pulling Chieh-yu toward the shore.

"I wonder," he said softly, "if that was a tip that I had been chosen in Monckton's place."

A sailor came up to him with a message from Captain Davis, and Clark promptly dismissed any further thoughts of that nature, becoming at once the efficient ship's officer he really was.