LITMIR.BIZ

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shrugged and dismissed the prophecy.

      The mafus wanted to stop with the darkness, but I ordered them to keep going for three hours, then halt for hot tea and food. We went on, O’Grady still in the lead, and after a bit, at a wide spot, I came up and fell in beside him. Then the trail narrowed and we had to go single file again.

      It was no easy matter riding along that path in the darkness. We had to trust solely to the mules and the guide. Now we would be skirting some narrow ledge above a precipice, and again the trail would zigzag up a hillside of loose shale and talus. Yet, by a miracle, we kept forging ahead.

      It was two o’clock—I had just glanced at my watch. We were scrambling up one of those cursed slopes, with a long treeless fall of rock below us, when my mule lost his footing. His hind legs went over the edge, and he scrambled there for a moment, snorting wildly. I had absolutely no warning, could not get out of the saddle; I could feel the poor beast slipping backward, his fore hooves hanging to the rock.

      Then O’Grady’s voice was in my ear. “Steady does it, me lad. Now, then, up with ye!”

      He was out of his saddle, standing there before me, hauling the mule back by sheer strength. An instant later, with a laugh, he was gone to his own beast once more, leaving me more shaken than I cared to confess.

      This was the second time O’Grady had saved my life.

      It was bitter cold that night. At three o’clock, coming to a fairly wide stretch of road between trees, I ordered a halt until dawn. The weather looked more like snow than rain to me, but so far there was no sign of either, save the heavy clouds.

      Within ten minutes we had roaring fires going, for the uneasiness of the mules showed that tiger were nearby; besides, if we had beaten our opponents this far, we would certainly beat them into Kittling, and there was no object in freezing to death from too much precaution.

      As we were about to open the packs, O’Grady sauntered up to the fire with a package.

      “Here’s some first-chop tea for all hands,” he said, “as a contribution. Bought it in Fuchow; remember, Breck?”

      I nodded, smiling at thought of how we had seen the sights that afternoon. I recalled that the Irishman had insisted on buying some extra fine tea, which he had never had an opportunity to sample.

      The men welcomed his gift eagerly, for it was a package of the finest and most expensive tea produced. Yu, at the moment, was getting our tent erected; leaving the cook and men at the fire, we stepped over to the tent and with Yu’s help got our things opened up and blankets out.

      O’Grady got an electric torch out of his kit, stepped outside, and flashed the light at the trees several times. I thought nothing of it, except to caution him against using up his battery. He came back to me, laughing to himself, and I wondered why he seemed so amused. I was too busy shaving to ask any questions, however, and he joined me over the pot of hot water.

      By the time we had shaved and dismissed Yu, some food and a couple of bowls of hot tea were waiting for us. The tent was none too large a dining room, but afforded us a shelter from the bitter wind that was coming up and bringing rain with it. Our men, already eating, were grouped about the fire twenty paces distant.

      “I wouldn’t touch that tea just yet,” said O’Grady, giving me a singular look.

      “Why not?”

      “Wait and see. Here, have a bit o’ this marmalade. It’s real Dundee, me lad! Upon my word, I believe it’ll be raining in another half hour, what?”

      “The rain is beginning now, I think. Pleasant trip tomorrow.”

      Indeed, a few drops of rain spattered on the tent. A moment later I reached out for the tea-bowl, then recollected O’Grady’s singular prohibition.

      “Say’ what’s the idea about the tea? Too hot?”

      A thin smile curved O’Grady’s lips. He was a handsome beggar, in his own way; yet there was a peculiar quality in his eye, as he looked at me, that I could not comprehend. He half turned on his stool, raised a hand toward me in restraint, and took out his pistol. He was now gazing out at the campfire.

      “What is it?” I queried. “Tiger?”

      He gave me a quizzical glance.

      “Faith, a dev’lish tiger and no mistake, me lad! Hold on a minute now, will ye? And be handin’ me that electric torch, like a good chap.”

      Mystified by his manner and actions, I handed him the torch. He flashed it toward the tent opening, then thrust his hand outside and flashed it again. Then, putting the torch into his coat pocket, he leaned forward and beckoned me to join him.

      Crowding around the makeshift table, I crouched beside him and peered out. For a moment I could see nothing unusual; then I perceived that our muleteers, grouped about the fire, were motionless. I could not sense what was wrong until, from the edge of the firelight, half a dozen figures came running in from all sides. Then it burst upon me—every last one of our men was drugged! Not a man stirred.

      Neither did I, for the best of reasons.

      “Keep quiet, now!” O’Grady’s voice had an edge of steel to it. He shoved his pistol into my ribs, and took my own weapon.

      “Not a move out of you, me lad! It was the tea that did it, as ye might know; and be thankin’ me that I was too much of a white man to be druggin’ you with it.”

      I was paralyzed, as much by sheer astounded incredulity as by the pistol, for I did not yet understand what was going on. Two figures appeared suddenly before us, O’Grady said something to them, and they calmly took hold of me. Before I could so much as struggle, my hands were bound, so were my ankles, and a gag thrust between my teeth.

      “Set him down again,” said O’Grady. “Go and see that all the rifles of these men are disposed of.”

      The two who had bound me were Japs.

      O’Grady took out his pipe, filled and lighted it, and surveyed me. I thought that there was a regretful expression in his eye, as he sighed and shook his head.

      “Damn it, Breck, I like ye fine, and it goes against the grain to do ye in! But necessity knows no law. If I take out the gag, may I have your word not to be cursin’ me or makin’ any rumpus?”

      I nodded. He leaned forward and promptly removed the gag, much to my relief.

      “Thanks. What’s it all about, now?”

      “Business,” he said laconically. “You and I and Schneider are all in the same boat, and trying to hook the same fish; but I’m no murderer. I made use of ye to get through the Frenchman’s lines, had my own men workin’ and waitin’ for me, and now I’m goin’ on to Kiuling and see French. That’s all, me lad.”

      “Who are you working for, then?” I demanded. “Japs?”

      “I’m workin’ for five thousand pound,” he said, a little wearily.

      “I’ll give you five thousand, then, to side with me,” I said.

      He stared at me, compressed his lips, then shook his head.

      “Sorry, but I’ve a queer notion about honor, Breck. Sorry, for a fact.”

      The odd part of it all was that he really was sorry, too!

      And, as I sat there watching him I felt only pity for the man; there was no anger in me. This queer fish, this likeable, irresponsible, whimsical O’Grady, had tricked and befooled and ensnared me, yet I had not a word of anger for his betrayal. I could see that he was not proud of himself. He had his own little hell inside of his soul.

      Undoubtedly, he had lied from the start.

      He was nothing but an adventurer, a man who had sold his services for a round sum; and that the Japs had entrusted their business to him spoke volumes for his character and ability.

      “I

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