The Popular Magazine/Coral Sands/Chapter 22

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pp. 51–53

4517893The Popular Magazine/Coral Sands — XXII. TreacheryH. de Vere Stacpoole

CHAPTER XXII.

TREACHERY.

When Yakoff left the smoke room, so sure was he of success that he could feel the two hundred thousand dollars in his pocket. Yakoff knew men. In that interview he had summed Cyrus up.

Cyrus was just an ordinary individual; there was no danger in him, and it was perfectly unnecessary to have brought Chales as a backer and standby.

As Yakoff came down the companionway to the canoe, this fact hit him hard. If he had only had the courage to come alone on this business, all the profit would have been his, but now that he had Chales tacked on to him, he would have to share. Not only that, but Chales, once he had spent his money, would be sure to want more.

This was a nuisance.

He stepped into the waiting canoe and they pushed off, Chales working the paddle and asking no questions.

Only when they reached the beach did he speak.

“Well,” he said, “what luck?”

“I'll tell you up at the house,” said Yakoff. “No use talking here. Haul her up a bit higher—there, that will do. Come along.”

He led the way, passing the house in whose shadow Fernand was lying, watching them, and on past the houses of the village, unconscious that Fernand was following.

Arrived at his own house, he led the way in, shut the door and lit the kerosene lamp in the living room. Then he fetched a bottle of gin from the case in the corner, pulled the cork and poured himself out a tot.

“Have a drink,' said he.

“I've told you oncet and I've told you for good, I'm off the stuff till this thing is pulled through,” replied the drunkard. “Come; don't be up to any of your funny tricks. Have you touched the chap or haven't you?”

Yakoff put the glass down and took a seat. The other followed suit.

“'Touched him,'” said Yakoff. “The way you talk! As if he was the Bank of California and me going in with a check to be cashed. I've given him his ultimatum, and he's to see me in the morning; that's as far as I've got.”

“Then if you've got that far,” said Chales, “the thing is done. 1f there'd been any kick in him he'd have bottled you right away and sent ashore for the French authorities. The thing's done.”

“Is it?' said Yakoff. “I'm not so sure of that—and now before I go an inch farther, Billy Chales, I want things straightened out with you. Half shares, you said.”

“Half shares and not a dollar under.”

“Well, it's not worth it. I've figured it out. From what I've seen of that chap, I'm taking a big risk. I tell you I've got cold feet. How do I know if I tackle him again to-morrow morning he won't bottle me as you said and call in the Frenchman? No, if it's half shares you want, I'm off. Five thousand dollars I'm not saying—and then I'd want a paper from you acknowledging receipt so's you wouldn't be playing any games with me after. If that won't do you, I'm through with this business.”

“But I'm not,” said Chales. “I'm not going to lose making money through any of your damn foolishness. You've got to go on with this business. You've started running and you've got to run, see? If you don't, I'll split. I'll go to this chap myself——

“You've got no hold on him; there's nothing you can do against him.”

“You shut up. It's you I've got the hold on. I'll tell him your game, that's all. I'll turn evidence that you come inducin' me to help squeeze him. With me at his elbow and that story, where'll you be? Yes, you did, you blighter, comin' inducin' me with a promise of half shares and then turning your back on your promise——

“There you go,” cut in Yakoff, “running away with things. I've got all the risk, haven't I? Well, there's no use arguing. I've got to swallow it——

“You bet you have.”

“And having swallowed it, it's done with.”

He rose and went toward the door, Chales following him. They both went out.

The village now was wrapped in sleep and the moon held the night. The California, lying out on the lagoon, showed the deck house still alight and several ports like amber eyes that seemed to watch the reef.

“Come,” said Yakoff. “I'll walk a bit of the way to your place.” He closed the house door. They started off and Fernand, who had been crouching by the rubbish heap that lay by the eastern wall of the house, came from his hiding place.

Clad as he was in white, he would not be easily seen standing close against the coral-lime-washed wall of the house.

But the two did not look back; they went on their way, and Fernand, holding back till they were nearly level with the canoe beach, cautiously followed.

They were going in the direction of Chales' house, evidently having a last word together on the business of the morrow.

Having seen Chales home, Yakoff would return. Fernand would meet Yakoff, get him in conversation, induce him to walk to the big flat of coral beyond the last of the trees and straddling the outer beach. Then he would make him fight.

It was a curious psychological fact that what was uppermost in his mind now was not the safety of the woman he loved and her father, but his hatred of Yakoff as Yakoff; his desire to wipe out that insult:

“You damn Kanaka!”

The words rose in him now, transmuting themselves into blind fury and the lust to kill. Yakoff should not have said those words to a Spaniard. Yakoff, having said them, had forgotten them. Just as a man might forget a seed he has planted in the ground. They had been growing in the mind of Fernand, and what had brought them to a sudden and furious blossom was his love for June.

“You damn Kanaka!” It was like a knife in his newly awakened pride of manhood.

Truly, as Ona had said, the Dark People were concerning themselves with the affairs of Yakoff. Hatred was following him in the form of Fernand, but there were others on the reef that night besides Fernand.

Near Chales' shack, Yakoff paused; he made a movement with his arms as if pointing out something to the west, and then the two went on. Fernand followed. He had not reckoned on this. Why had not Chales turned in?

He reached the last of the trees and paused beside a palm, watching the figures that had now crossed the flat of coral and were negotiating the rough coral that ran down to where the breakers of the outer sea were bursting in spray beneath the moon.

Here were great reef pools just uncovered by the ebbing tide and showing like mirrors in the silvery light.

Chales was slightly in front of his companion. Suddenly he fell as if tripped up from behind and as suddenly fell Yakoff on top of him.

What happened then was difficult to see. The two forms heaved as though locked and struggling. A voice came on the wind.

The forms ceased to struggle. One rose up. It was the form of Yakoff.

Fernand could tell that at once.