Читать книгу Anybody's Pearls - Footner Hulbert - Страница 11

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Still feeling rather dazed by the story which Rulon had nonchalantly spit out of the corner of his mouth, Dick went up to his own room where he could think things out by himself. He pulled his easy chair up to the window, and cocked his heels on the sill. What a story! What a story! One read of such things in the newspapers, but to be brought into direct contact with it made a fellow’s head swim.

What was he to do? Without any volition of his own, he was being drawn deeper and deeper into this thing. It was no light thing for a man like Rulon to get his hooks into you. Dick seemed to feel the man’s talons actually digging into his shoulder, and a cold shiver went through him. When he was not with Rulon, Dick was no longer susceptible to the terrible fascination of the man, and he could see things whole. Good heavens! what a scoundrel!—magnificent in a way, but a scoundrel!

Well, how was he to get clear of him—and keep a whole skin? One thing was certain; there must be an end of drifting. He had just drifted into this hole, and unless he exerted himself, he would drift in where there was no bottom. But the only thing he could think of was to allow Rulon to go back to America, and then simply not follow him. In that case he, Dick, would end just where he had started; a stranger and penniless in London. Moreover, he would have the British bunch to square. At the best, it seemed like a tame way out. This was an extraordinary situation that Rulon had laid out to him; a smart young fellow ought to be able to reap some advantage to himself from it.

A sort of joking solution occurred to Dick; suppose he stole the pearls from Rulon, and telling both the British and American varieties of crook to go to hell, negotiated himself with the rightful owner of the jewels for their return. He would certainly be able to find a rightful owner somewhere. Pearls like that would not go begging; a ten thousand dollar reward would not be out of the way. Besides the publicity he would get out of it.

Dick chuckled at the idea—and then he began to shiver. Oh Lord! I wish I’d never thought of that! he inwardly groaned. For now he knew he would never be able to stop thinking about it. To steal the pearls from that brutal braggart; what an act of poetic justice! It was like having a story come out right in the end. It appealed to Dick’s artistic sense. It ought not to be too difficult. Did not Rulon get drunk in his company every night? And once he, Dick, got hold of the pearls, there was nothing Rulon could do. Possession of the pearls was everything.

But Rulon! Safe in his own room though he was, Dick broke into a gentle sweat of fear. That figure of terror! that tiger of a man! Why you know you’d never be able to do it! Dick told himself. He’s got you paralysed with a look before you begin. And as for getting drunk, you know perfectly well that drink only sharpens his senses, and makes him more dangerous. The idea is ridiculous. Forget it! Forget it!

And yet ...! And yet ...! The pearls ought to be lifted from Rulon. To have that cynical ruffian get away with them was too much. If I don’t make a try for them, I’ll regret it all my life long, Dick thought. I’ll despise myself.... It could be done. Suppose he is able to take care of himself as long as he is awake; he has got to sleep some time. When he sleeps, the fumes of the alcohol are bound to have their effect. He will sleep like the dead. If I could get him then ...!

A sort of dialogue went on inside Dick. I can’t do it. I haven’t the nerve. Nobody would have the nerve to go up against him!

Are you going to let him bluff you to a standstill, then? That’s just what he does to everybody. He told you as much. A bluff can always be called. It’s only your own thoughts you’re scared of. He’s only a man like yourself. Once you got the pearls, there is nothing he could do, except take a shot at you. Well, keep out of his way. He’s only one man. If you wanted, you could go to the police for protection. Your conscience is clear....

Oh, keep out of it! Keep out of it! Oh, for a quiet life ...!

Well, what the hell else are you going to do then? There’s no alternative....

I can’t do it! I’m willing to admit he’s got me scared off....

You got to do it. In your heart you know you got to do it....

There was no end to this discussion. It went around in a circle. Dick determined to go down into the streets in order to distract his mind.

Yielding to a sudden impulse, he walked down the stairs, instead of ringing for the lift. He knew that Rulon’s room was number 217, having heard him ask for his key, and he wished to locate the room. He knew it was on the third bedroom floor. There was no regularity in the room-plan of this English hotel, as there would be in America. He found that it was the second room from the end of the left hand corridor at the back of the building. It was on the right-hand side of the corridor, therefore it must overlook the river like his own room higher up.

When he got down to the street, he walked around to the Embankment side of the building to study those windows. He immediately perceived that the windows of the floor below Rulon’s room had ornamental projecting architraves over them, making it a perfectly simple matter to climb from any window on the third floor to the next window. At this season, of course, all the windows were wide open, and in England screens are unknown.

If I could only get one of the rooms next to Rulon’s, thought Dick.... But what’s the use of wishing! It’s not likely either of them is vacant, full as the place is at this season. And if one was vacant, I couldn’t have myself moved without exciting suspicion....

Aah! you’re only bluffing yourself! You know you haven’t got nerve enough to try it on....

Well, it’s no harm to plan how it might be done.