The two old guys were at their usual place at the end of the bar. The big, gaunt man was drawing his usual map. He bent over the bar and his sunken eyes glowed under his jutting brows as he traced lines on the paper with the blunt pencil. His face had a bewildered, lost expression on it as he drew.
The other man was short and round, a roly poly. He watched the gaunt man with compassionate interest on his round face and drank beer.
Dell walked down the bar and stopped beside them. He grinned at them and said to the man with the pencil, “Hello, Skipper, how goes it?”
The gaunt man pushed the map toward him and said, “That’s Waiki. That’s where I was when Black Bill came ashore. He was a black, hard devil, was Black Bill; a murdering, thieving scoundrel. He killed my men, burned my boat and stole my money. But I beat him at last.”
He chuckled deep down in his chest. “He was a hard, to ugh man but I beat him. I beat him with these two hands.” He thrust out his great, bony hands and stared at them. “I killed Black Bill in fair fight with my two hands. Then I took—” He halted, his deep-set eyes tragic in their bewilderment. “What was it I took off Black Bill?”
The little fat man said, “There, there, Skipper, don’t let it worry you. You’ll remember one of these days.” He smiled at Dell as though asking him to humor the skipper.
Dell smiled back.
A girl came through the door and halted, blinking as though the cool dimness blinded her after the hot glare of the street. She was tall and graceful and poised. She had dark eyes in a smooth, warm complexion. Her mouth had the slightest droop of sadness in its gravity.
Then she saw the two men at the end of the bar and the gravity lifted a little as she smiled. She walked toward the bar, saying, “Ah, there you are, Mr. Benedict. Don’t you think it’s time Daddy went home?”
“Whatever you think, Miss Arnold,” Benedict replied. “I stayed in here with him because it is so cool.”
The girl looked at Dell with sudden suspicion in her eyes. She stared along the bar and seemed relieved at seeing no one else there. Dell moved away as Andy came to lean over the end of the bar.
Miss Arnold talked to Benedict in a low murmur. They both kept glancing at Dell as they talked. Finally Miss Arnold asked Andy something and Andy glanced at Dell and murmured back.
Dell saw sudden interest brighten the girl’s eyes. She spoke more rapidly and Andy wagged his head slowly. Dell could hear his voice now. He was saying, “Sure, Miss Arnold. Sure, I know him. He’s a good guy. You could trust him with anything you owned. Dell Breen is a leveler.”
He listened to the girl, turned, jerked his head at Dell, saying, “Mr. Breen, I want you to come over here and meet Miss Arnold. Her and Mr. Benedict have something they think you can handle for them.”
Dell joined them at the end of the bar. Andy backed discreetly away and watched them as he polished glasses. Miss Arnold said in a quick, breathless voice. “Andy tells us that you are a detective and that you can be trusted.”
“I’ve been in business a long time because I know how to keep my mouth shut and protect my clients’ interests,” Dell said succinctly. “What is it you’re up against?”
The girl nodded toward the gaunt man. “It’s about Daddy.” She drew in her breath and expelled it in a long sigh and Dell noticed now that she had a lovely figure.
“I’ll begin at the beginning,” she said. She turned to Benedict. “You stop me if I’ve got anything wrong.”
Benedict nodded gravely and the girl went on: “My father had a plantation and did some trading among the islands in the South Pacific.”
“Waiki,” the gaunt man interposed, “that’s where I was.” He pushed the map forward and said with pathetic eagerness. “That’s Waiki.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Miss Arnold said soothingly, “it was Waiki.” She turned back to Dell. “He must have been quite prosperous because he always had money to send to me while I was at school. He was always writing to me that as soon as he could sell at a fair price he was coming home to spend the rest of his years with me. Then he wrote to tell me he had lost everything. This Black Bill that he talks about was a pirate.”
“Black Bill was a snake,” the gaunt man cut in harshly. “He was a black devil. He burned me out and stole everything I had. But I went after him. I showed him that he couldn’t do that to Duck Arnold.”
The girl nodded as though in confirmation. “He must have done so,” she said, “because later I received a cable from him saying he was starting for home. I was in Chicago then. He told me he was coming home with a fortune. He was coming, he said, on the Pacific Queen.”
The gaunt man wagged his head and chuckled. “Black Bill. I killed him with my two hands. I made him pay for what he’d done to me.”
“The Pacific Queen came through the Panama Canal bound for New York,” his daughter resumed. “There was some uncertainty about her landing date. She was a tramp, not a regular liner. Father landed a day earlier than I expected. I was on my way from Chicago at the time.”
She paused, swallowed painfully, and went on. “He left the ship and went to a little hotel near the docks for the night. Someone on that ship must have learned that father was carrying something worth a lot of money. They followed him to the hotel and—”
Tears swam in her dark eyes. Her slender fingers picked at the purse she was carrying. “As nearly as we can find out they got into father’s room and tried to get his fortune away from him. But he had it hidden somewhere. They beat him up so badly that he was carried to the hospital for dead. When he regained consciousness he was as you see him now. He cannot remember a thing that has happened. He can remember events up to Black Bill. Beyond that his mind is a blank. But we know that whatever he had was valuable. And we know that no one has found it.”
Dell’s thick black brows pulled down in a frown. “How do you know that for certain, Miss Arnold?”
“For one thing,” Miss Arnold said promptly, “they came back to the hotel room after father was taken to the hospital.” She paused and caught her breath and fear sharpened her eyes. “Just lately there have been men watching father.”
“You’re sure you’re not imagining things, Miss Arnold?”
Miss Arnold shook her head. Benedict patted her on the arm and said, “There, there, Laura,” in a gentle tone.
He turned his head and glanced at Dell with concern pursing his lips, “I am sure, Mr. Breen,” he said earnestly, “that Miss Arnold is laboring under no delusion. I have seen the men myself. One of them was hanging around in front of her apartment when I called there today.”
Dell nursed his jaw in one hand as he stared back at Arnold. “It does sound as if the boys didn’t get what they were after. Maybe if we rounded up a few of them we could find out what it is they’re after.”
Benedict wagged his head mournfully. “I wish you could do that, Breen. But the fellow I saw today was a tough-looking customer. He didn’t look as if he’d talk freely to anyone.”
“I got ways of persuasion,” Dell said drily. “Leave me alone in a room with one of these birds and I’ll bet we’d both know a lot more before we came out.”
“Maybe, maybe,” Benedict said doubtfully. “I certainly wish you’d take the case and try, Mr. Breen. The way things are now Miss Arnold and myself are getting too nervous for comfort. It’s like living under the threat of some disaster. Something must be done.”
Laura Arnold said slowly, “I don’t know what your fee is, Mr. Breen. I haven’t a great deal of money just now. Father’s hospital bills and all have eaten up my savings. But I’ve got a good job and can pay you off so much a week. If you do recover whatever it is father has hidden, I’ll see that you get a fair share.”