In Red and Gold. Merwin Samuel

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two hours here.”

      The young couple, gathering up their purchases and the heaps of silver dollars, slowly followed.

      “That was great!” exclaimed Rocky Kane. The thin girl, he had decided, was a good fellow. She was always quiet, discreet, attractive. In her curiously unobtrusive way she seemed to know everything. The face was cold in appearance. Yet she was distinctly friendly. Made you feel that nothing you might say could disturb or shock her. He wondered what could be going on behind those pale quiet eyes, behind the thin lips. The men had remarked on the fact that she was traveling alone. She was a provocative person – the curiously youthful costume; the black hair gathered at the neck and tied, girlishly, with a bow – really an exciting person. The way she had taken that little scene out on deck with the gorgeous Chinese girl – Rocky knew nothing of the distinctions between the Asiatic peoples – who spoke English; quite as a matter of course. Though she took everything that way. This little gambling, for instance. She loved it – was quick at it.

      “I’m wondering about you,” he said, as they wandered along. “Wondering – you know – why you’re traveling this way. Have you got folks up the river?”

      “Oh, no,” she replied – never in his life had he known such self-control; there wasn’t even color in her voice, just that easy quiet way, that sense of giving out no vitality whatever. “Oh, no. I have some business at Hankow and Peking.”

      That was all she said. The subject was closed. And yet, she hadn’t minded his asking. She was still friendly; he felt that. His feelings rose. He giggled softly.

      “Lord!” he said, “if only the pater wasn’t along!”

      “Does he hold you down?”

      “Does he? Brought me out here to discipline me. Trying to make me go back to college – make a grind of me… I was just thinking – here’s a nice girl to play with, and plenty of fun around, and not a thing to drink. He gave me fits at Shanghai because I took a few drinks.”

      “You have the other stuff,” said she. He turned nervously; stared at her. But she remained as calmly unresponsive as ever. Merely explained: “I smelt it, outside your cabin. You ought to be careful – shut your window tight when you smoke it.”

      He held his breath a moment; then realized, with an uprush of feeling warmer than any he had felt before, that he had her sympathy. She would never tell, never in the world. That big mate might, but she wouldn’t.

      She added this: “I can give you a drink. Wait until things settle down on the boat and come to my cabin – number four. Just be sure there’s no one in the corridor. And don’t knock. The door will be ajar. Step right in. Do you like saké?”

      “Do I – say, you’re great! You’re wonderful. I never knew a girl like you!”

      She took this little outbreak, as she had taken all his others, without even a smile. It was, he felt, as if they had always known each other. They understood – perfectly.

      If he had been told, then, that this girl had been during two or three vivid years one of the most conspicuous underworld characters along the coast – that coast where the underworld was still, at the time of our narrative, openly part of what small white world there was out here – a gambler and blackmailer of what would very nearly have to be called attainment – he would have found belief impossible, would have defended her with the blind impulsiveness of youth.

      It was said that the steamer would not proceed at the scheduled hour, might be delayed until night. Disgruntled white passengers settled down, in berth and deck chair, to make the best of it. There was, it came vaguely to light, a little trouble up the river, an outbreak of some sort.

      Rocky Kane, a flush below his temples, slipped stealthily along the corridor. At number four he paused; glanced nervously about; then, grinning, pushed open the door and softly closed it behind him.

      The strange thin Miss Carmichael was combing out her black hair. With a confused little laugh he extended his arms. But she shook her head.

      “Sit down and be sensible,” she said. “Here’s the saké.”

      She produced a bottle and poured a small drink into a large glass. He gulped it down.

      “Aren’t you drinking with me?” he asked.

      “I never take anything.”

      “You’re a funny girl. How’d you come to have this?”

      “It was given to me. You’d better slip along. I can’t ask you to stay.”

      “But when am I going to see you, for a good visit?”

      “Oh, there’ll be chances enough. Here we are.”

      “That’s so. Looks as if we’d stay here a while, too. There’s a battle on, you know, up at Wu Chang and Hankow. Big row. We get all the news from Kato. He’s that Japanese that father has with him. The revolutionists have captured Wu Chang, and are getting ready to cross over. The imperial army’s being rushed down to defend Hankow. Regular doings. Shells were falling in the foreign concessions this morning. Kato’s got all the news there is. It’s a question whether we’ll go on at all. You see the Manchus own this boat, and the republicans would certainly get after us. There are enough foreign warships up there to protect us, of course… How about another drink?”

      “Better not. Your father will notice it.”

      “He won’t know where I got it.” Rocky chuckled. He felt himself an adventurous and quite manly old devil – here in the mysterious girl’s cabin, watching her as she smoothed and tied her flowing hair, and sipping the potent liquor from Japan. “It’s funny nothing seems to surprise you. Did you know they were fighting up there?”

      “No.”

      “Wouldn’t you be a little frightened if we were to steam right into a battle?”

      “I shouldn’t enjoy it particularly.”

      “Aren’t you even interested? Is there anything you’re interested in?”

      “Certainly – I have my interests. You must go – really… No, be quiet! Some one will hear! We can visit to-night – out on deck.”

      “But you’re – I don’t understand! Here we are – like this – and you shoo me out. I don’t even know your first name.”

      “My name is Dixie – but I don’t want you to call me that.”

      “Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we – ”

      “Of course, but they’d hear you.”

      “Oh!”

      “Wait – I’ll look before you go… It’s all clear now.”

      They visited long after dinner. He was brimming with later advices from the center of trouble up the river. Mostly she listened, studying him with a mind that was keener and quicker and shrewder in its sordid wisdom than he would perhaps ever understand.

      Everything that Kato had told his father and himself he passed eagerly on to her. He was a man indeed now; making an enormous impression; possessor of inside information of a vital sort – the viceroy’s priceless collection of jewels, jades, porcelains and historic paintings, which Kato was advising

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