Well, all this has upset me almost more than the ocean. I thrashes and turns, and finally passes out from complete exhaustion. Mornin’ overtakes me in a mess of troubled dreams, and I wakes to find Mac and Fluffy already on the job.
My would-be partner, in striped flannels and a white sweater, is siftin’ in front of the mirror, his cradle-faced countenance in sweet repose. MacEwen is thoughtfully contemplatin’ him, like a sculptor considerin’ a block of stone.
“Mornin’, Smitz,” says he.
“How you feelin’, Sam?” says Fluffy.
“Mornin’. I’m feelin’ like hell,” says I. “I see you guys has got together all right.”
“We’re doin’ fine,” says Mac. “If my figures is right there are ninety-seven pairs of striped flannel trousers and one hundred and five white sweaters on board, and no face like this one. Our list is noticeably free of hirsute adornment, and these distinguished gray whiskers will be in a class by themselves.”
With that he opens a small box on the dressin’ table and starts in on Fluffy with the dangdest display of quick disguise you ever seen in your life. In ten minutes he’s grew a Vandyke that any guy would work thirty years on. Then he starts in on lines of thought and other distinguishin’ features, and by the time he’s powdered it down and carefully adjusted a linen cap over Fluffy’s red hair you’d no more think it was him than the man in the moon.
“Meet Herr Von Mussendorfer, eminent scientist from Berlin, in sport attire,” says he, steppin’ aside.
“Well, for gosh sakes!” astounds Fluffy, droppin’ his whiskered jaw. “My own mother wouldn’t know me.”
“Yeah, that’s the best face you ever had in this world,” I snorts. “Now, have you got your rod, Fluffy?”
“Uh-huh,” says he, still blinkin’ at the mirror. “Say, I’m gonna grow somethin’ like this as soon as I get a little spare time.”
“You sure ain’t yourself,” I admits, “and you’d oughta put it over slick.”
“There won’t be a hitch,” MacEwen surveys him with pride. “Won’t attract no attention; just be somebody no one has noticed beforehand that ain’t on the ship when they come to look for him. It’s a cinch.”
“I hope so,” I sighs. Sick as I am I feel I gotta get up durin’ this climax, and starts strugglin’ up outa bed. “You ain’t nervous or nothin’, are you, Fluffy? You know this Bodie is a tough egg.”
“Me? Gosh, no,” he’s contemptuous. “I ain’t like you, Sam. Well, so long, fellas.” Casual and unconcerned he ambles out the door. Mac follows him with sparklin’ eyes.
“A great guy,” says he.
“All of that,” says I.
“Now, I may not be seein’ you again before we land,” says he, “but you know where to get hold of me on location, for the split.”
“Yeah, I’ll be seein’ ya,” I mumbles, wrestlin’ into my garments, and he departs.
V
As my head emerges through the tunnel of my shirt my eyes lights on Fluffy’s dressin’ table — and there lays his revolver. Him and Mac was so elated over that disguise, and me so busy dressin’, that he’s gone and walked off without it!
“Sufferin’ cats!” I yelps. “I knew it — that absent-minded dodo has gotta be watched every minute or he pulls somethin’ like this.”
Grabbin’ my hat and coat I picks up the gun and rushes out, my seasick momentarily forgot. Frantically I rushes up to C deck, after Fluffy. If he ever steps into Bodie’s joint without a gat, it’s curtains. Reachin’ one end of the hall, I spots him down at the other. But too late — he’s just turned the handle of number seven and stepped within. With a groan I sinks down on the steps of a companion ladder and takes my head in my hands. If I hadn’t been seasick already, I would ’a’ been then.
That’s the end, thinks I… I may just as well chase up and tell Mac not to wait.
Footfalls. Two guys has turned into the hallway, and blamed if it ain’t Bodie himself, with Detective O’Mally.
“Now, what is the meanin’ of that combination?” I blinks.
Whatever it is, it’s plain somethin’ is about to happen that I can’t afford to be mixed up in. I rises to go, then sorta weakens and sits down again. Though I can’t be no help to Fluffy, still I can’t drag myself away.
A minute passes — two — five — what’s goin’ on in there? Itchin’ with anxieties I starts edgin’ down the hall. Then the door opens. Here comes McGoff, and even through that disguise I can see his silly, satisfied grin.
“Okay, Sam,” he whispers: “forgot my gun, but I held ’em up with a shavin’ stick till I got O’Mally’s. I’ve got the jack and they’re penned up in the bathroom.”
Calm and leisurely, like he’s been instructed, he mosies past me, and I never been more surprised in my life. Good old Fluffy, he’s managed to put it over after all.
Then, wham! — open flies number seven and out pours Bodie and the dick. One look behind and Fluffy takes the first corner on the lam, these two not fifty paces behind him.
Well, if you want a pinch fit, just put yourself in my boots for them next few minutes. Here I am right on the edge of things while McGoff is dodgin’ back and forth, this way and that, with that ten thousand bucks. At first he’s got plenty ways to go, but he always picks the wrong turn, and after a minute they’re closin’ in on him every which way.
At last he makes it to a companion ladder and scrambles down a deck. But they’ve been expectin’ that and takes right after him.
“Cripes!” I moans, followin’ after.
Why don’t he duck in somewheres like I told him? Here he is riskin’ all that jack on a game of tag when, in that disguise, he’s safe with anybody on the ship but them two. There’s any number of places he can step in till they goes by.
On the deck below, Bodie takes a tack to the left, and O’Mally to the right. I heads down the middle aisle just in time to see Fluffy disappear into a doorway up near the lobby. Good — at last he’s usin’ his bean. I’ll tip him off as soon as these birds has moved on, and then if he can get up to Mac’s before there’s a general alarm, why—
Bodie appears in the middle aisle — then O’Mally — and my heart stops beatin’ as they advances, heads together, toward the hideout. But straight past the doorway they goes; through the lobby, and on up forward. Fluffy has put it over, and I takes back everything I ever said against him!
I rushes forward to give him the high-sign, then suddenly slows up, hesitates, and pulls up with a groan. Before me is a plate glass window entitled: Tonsorial Parlor. Beyond this stands two chairs. In one sits the venerable ship’s captain, just finishin’ a shave. In the other, a dignified, German-lookin’ man of science — with iron gray whiskers and flamin’ red hair!
The barber is just approachin’ with his white cloth. One good look and he bounces back like he’s bit, lets out a whoop, and drops everything. Of all the places on the ship, McGoff has walked himself into the barber shop and called for a shave!
The sea has calmed, the decks is millin’ with life, and the ship’s about to land when MacEwen comes poundin’ for the third time on my door.
“Heard anything of McGoff yet?” He pokes in his glarin’ countenance.
“Not a thing,” says I sourly. “Have you?”
“A little,” he gives a sour smile. “They caught him. I can’t find out how, but they caught him — with all the dough. Then it came out that O’Mally has been takin’ protection money on Bodie’s racket. McGoff got ’em red-handed while they was checkin’ the split from a list of the winnin’s, and spilled it all to the captain when he caught him. To avoid a scandal they’ve turned him loose and are payin’ back all losses outa the loot. You can chase up to the captain, Smitz, and get reimbursed.