The Dark Star Part 62

Doc nodded.

Brandes said in his narrow-eyed, sleepy way:

"There was a time when they called us gunmen--Ben and me. But, so help me G.o.d, Doc, we never did any work like that ourselves. We never fired a shot to croak any living guy. Did we, Ben?"

"All right," said Stull impatiently. And, to Curfoot: "Eddie and I know what we're to do. If it's on the cards that we shoot--well, then, we'll shoot. The place is to be small, select, private, and first cla.s.s. Doc, you act as capper. You deal, too. Eddie sets 'em up. I deal or spin. All right. We three guys attend to anything American that blows our way. Get that?"

Curfoot nodded.

"Then for the foreigners, there's to be a guy called Karl Breslau."

Neeland managed to repress a start, but the blood tingled in his cheeks, and he turned his head a trifle as though seeking better light on the open pages in his hands.

"This here man Breslau," continued Stull, "speaks all kinds of languages. He is to have two friends with him, a fellow named Kestner and one called Weishelm. They trim the foreigners, they do; and----"

"Well, I don't see nothing new about this----" began Curfoot; but Stull interrupted:

"Wait, can't you! This ain't the usual. We run a place for Quint. The place is like Quint's. We trim guys same as he does--or did. _But there's more to it._"

He let his eyes rest on Neeland, obliquely, for a full minute. The others watched him, too. Presently the young man cut another page of his book with his pen-knife and turned it with eager impatience, as though the story absorbed him.

"Don't worry about Frenchy," murmured Brandes with a shrug. "Go ahead, Ben."

Stull laid one hand on Curfoot's shoulder, drawing that gentleman a trifle nearer and sinking his voice:

"Here's the new stuff, Doc," he said. "And it's brand new to us, too.

There's big money into it. Quint swore we'd get ours. And as we was on our uppers we went in. It's like this: We lay for Americans from the Emba.s.sy or from any of the Consulates. They are our special game. It ain't so much that we trim them; we also get next to them; we make 'em talk right out in church. Any political dope they have we try to get.

We get it any way we can. If they'll accelerate we accelerate 'em; if not, we dope 'em and take their papers. The main idee is to get a holt on 'em!

"That's what Quint wants; that's what he's payin' for and gettin' paid for--inside information from the Emba.s.sy and Consulates----"

"What does Quint want of that?" demanded Curfoot, astonished.

"How do I know? Blackmail? Graft? I can't call the dope. But listen here! Don't forget that it ain't Quint who wants it. It's the big feller behind him who's backin' him. It's some swell guy higher up who's payin' Quint. And Quint, he pays us. So where's the squeal coming?"

"Yes, but----"

"Where's the holler?" insisted Stull.

"I ain't hollerin', am I? Only this here is new stuff to me----"

"Listen, Doc. I don't know what it is, but all these here European kings is settin' watchin' one another like toms in a back alley. I think that some foreign political high-upper wants dope on what our people are finding out over here. Like this, he says to himself: 'I hear this Kink is building ten sooper ferry boats. If that's right, I oughta know. And I hear that the Queen of Marmora has ordered a million new nifty fifty-shot bean-shooters for the boy scouts! That is indeed serious news!' So he goes to his broker, who goes to a big feller, who goes to Quint, who goes to us. Flag me?"

"Sure."

"That's all. There's nothing to it, Doc. Says Quint to us: 'Trim a few guys for me and get their letters,' says Quint; 'and there's somethin'

in it for me and you!' And _that's_ the new stuff, Doc."

"You mean we're spies?"

"Spies? I don't know. We're on a salary. We get a big bonus for every letter we find on the carpet----" He winked at Curfoot and relighted his cigar.

"Say," said the latter, "it's like a creeping joint. It's a panel game, Ben----"

"It's politics like they play 'em in Albany, only it's amba.s.sadors and kinks we trim, not corporations."

"_We_ can't do it! What the h.e.l.l do we know about kinks and attaches?"

"No; Weishelm, Breslau and Kestner do that. We lay for the attaches or spin or deal or act handy at the bar and buffet with homesick Americans. No; the fine work--the high-up stuff, is done by Breslau and Weishelm. And I guess there's some fancy skirts somewhere in the game. But they're silent partners; and anyway Weishelm manages that part."

Curfoot, one lank knee over the other, swung his foot thoughtfully to and fro, his ratty eyes lost in dreamy revery. Brandes tossed his half-consumed cigar out of the open window and set fire to another.

Stull waited for Curfoot to make up his mind. After several minutes the latter looked up from his cunning abstraction:

"Well, Ben, put it any way you like, but we're just plain political spies. And what the h.e.l.l do they hand us over here if we're pinched?"

"I don't know. What of it?"

"Nothing. If there's good money in it, I'll take a chance."

"There is. Quint backs us. When we get 'em coming----"

"Ah," said Doc with a wry face, "that's all right for the cards or the wheel. But this pocket picking----"

"Say; that ain't what I mean. It's like this: Young Fitznoodle of the Emba.s.sy staff gets soused and starts out lookin' for a quiet game. We furnish the game. We don't go through his pockets; we just pick up whatever falls out and take shorthand copies. Then back go the letters into Fitznoodle's pocket----"

"Yes. Who reads 'em first?"

"Breslau. Or some skirt, maybe."

"What's Breslau?"

"Search _me_. He's a Dutchman or a Roos.h.i.+an or some sort of Dodo. What do you care?"

"I don't. All right, Ben. You've got to show me; that's all."

"Show you what?"

"Spot cas.h.!.+"

"You're in when you handle it?"

"If you show me real money--yes."

"You're on. I'll cash a cheque of Quint's for you at Monroe's soon as we hit the asphalt! And when you finish counting out your gold nickels put 'em in your pants and play the game! Is that right?"

"Yes."

They exchanged a wary handshake; then, one after another, they leaned back in their seats with the air of honest men who had done their day's work.