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Updated: June 13, 2025
It was a silly ass thing to do," protested the purser. "Everybody knows Meyer hasn't a brother, and if he hadn't made THAT break he might have got away with the other one. But now this Smedburg is going to wireless ahead to Mr. Meyer and to the police." "Has he no other way of spending his money?" I asked. "He's a confounded nuisance!" growled the purser.
I had left mine at the beginning of the action, and was only regretting that I had not left my sword with it, as it kept getting between my legs when I was tearing my way through the jungle. I never wore it again in action. Lieutenant Rivers was with Wood, also leading his horse. Smedburg had been sent off on the by no means pleasant task of establishing communications with Young.
We had long passed quarantine and a convoy of tugs were butting us into the dock. "What are you going to do?" I asked. "Doesn't depend on me," he said. "Depends on Smedburg. He's a busy little body!" The boy wanted me to think him unconcerned, but beneath the flippancy I saw the nerves jerking. Then quite simply he began to tell me.
Four men, headed by Sergeant Hamilton Fish, went first; a support of twenty men followed some distance behind; and then came Capron and the rest of his troop, followed by Wood, with whom General Young had sent Lieutenants Smedburg and Rivers as aides. I rode close behind, at the head of the other three troops of my squadron, and then came Brodie at the head of his squadron.
Below us on the dock, protected by two obvious members of the strong-arm squad, the great banker, philanthropist, and Hebrew, Adolph Meyer, was waiting. We were so close that I could read his face. It was stern, set; the face of a man intent upon his duty, unrelenting. Without question, of a bad business Mr. Smedburg had made the worst. I turned to speak to Talbot and found him gone.
Looking over my notes, I said: "You seem to have made every charge except murder." "How'd I come to leave that out?" Schnitzel answered flippantly. "What about Coleman, the foreman at Bahia, and that German contractor, Ebhardt, and old Smedburg? They talked too much, and they died of yellow-fever, maybe, and maybe what happened to them was they ate knockout drops in their soup."
I don't have to give my name to every meddling busybody that " "You'll give it to the police, all right," chortled Mr. Smedburg. In the confident, bullying tone of the man who knows the crowd is with him, he shouted: "And in the meantime you'll keep out of this smoking-room!" The chorus of assent was unanimous. It could not be disregarded.
As though furnishing a description for the police, he began to enumerate: "Hair, dark and curly; eyes, poppy; lips, full; nose, Roman or Hebraic, according to taste. Do you see?" He shrugged his shoulders. "But it didn't work," he concluded. "I picked the wrong Jew." His face grew serious. "Do you suppose that Smedburg person has wirelessed that banker?"
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