The Little Nugget - Part 45
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Part 45

'Where are you?'

'Is that your car?'

'It belongs to a friend of mine.'

'I didn't know you meant to bring a party.'

'There's only three of us. Me, the chauffeur, and my friend--MacGinnis.'

The possibility, indeed the probability, of Sam seeking out Buck and forming an alliance had occurred to me, and I was prepared for it. I shifted my grip on the automatic pistol in my hand.

'Mr Fisher.'

'h.e.l.lo!'

'Ask your friend MacGinnis to be good enough to step into the light of that lamp and drop his gun.'

There was a muttered conversation. I heard Buck's voice rumbling like a train going under a bridge. The request did not appear to find favour with him. Then came an interlude of soothing speech from Mr Fisher. I could not distinguish the words, but I gathered that he was pointing out to him that, on this occasion only, the visit being for the purposes of parley and not of attack, pistols might be looked on as non-essentials. Whatever his arguments, they were successful, for, finally, humped as to the back and muttering, Buck moved into the light.

'Good evening, Mr MacGinnis,' I said. 'I'm glad to see your leg is all right again. I won't detain you a moment. Just feel in your pockets and shed a few of your guns, and then you can come in out of the rain. To prevent any misunderstanding, I may say I have a gun of my own. It is trained on you now.'

'I ain't got no gun.'

'Come along. This is no time for airy persiflage. Out with them.'

A moment's hesitation, and a small black pistol fell to the ground.

'No more?'

'Think I'm a regiment?'

'I don't know what you are. Well, I'll take your word for it. You will come in one by one, with your hands up.'

I went down and opened the door, holding my pistol in readiness against the unexpected.

II

Sam came first. His raised hands gave him a vaguely pontifical air (Bishop Blessing Pilgrims), and the kindly smile he wore heightened the illusion. Mr MacGinnis, who followed, suggested no such idea. He was muttering moodily to himself, and he eyed me askance.

I showed them into the cla.s.sroom and switched on the light. The air was full of many odours. Disuse seems to bring out the inky-chalky, appley-deal-boardy bouquet of a cla.s.sroom as the night brings out the scent of flowers. During the term I had never known this cla.s.sroom smell so exactly like a cla.s.sroom. I made use of my free hand to secure and light a cigarette.

Sam rose to a point of order.

'Young man,' he said. I should like to remind you that we are here, as it were, under a flag of truce. To pull a gun on us and keep us holding our hands up this way is raw work. I feel sure I speak for my friend Mr MacGinnis.'

He c.o.c.ked an eye at his friend Mr MacGinnis, who seconded the motion by expectorating into the fireplace. I had observed at a previous interview his peculiar gift for laying bare his soul by this means of mode of expression. A man of silent habit, judged by the more conventional standard of words, he was almost an orator in expectoration.

'Mr MacGinnis agrees with me,' said Sam cheerfully. 'Do we take them down? Have we your permission to a.s.sume Position Two of these Swedish exercises? All we came for was a little friendly chat among gentlemen, and we can talk just as well--speaking for myself, better--in a less strained att.i.tude. A little rest, Mr Burns! A little folding of the hands? Thank you.'

He did not wait for permission, nor was it necessary. Sam and the melodramatic atmosphere was as oil and water. It was impossible to blend them. I laid the pistol on the table and sat down. Buck, after one wistful glance at the weapon, did the same. Sam was already seated, and was looking so cosy and at home that I almost felt it remiss of me not to have provided sherry and cake for this pleasant gathering.

'Well,' I said, 'what can I do for you?'

'Let me explain,' said Sam. 'As you have, no doubt, gathered, Mr MacGinnis and I have gone into partnership. The Little Nugget Combine!'

'I gathered that--well?'

'Judicious partnerships are the soul of business. Mr MacGinnis and I have been rivals in the past, but we both saw that the moment had come for the genial smile, the hearty handshake, in fact, for an alliance. We form a strong team, sonny. My partner's speciality is action. I supply the strategy. Say, can't you see you're up against it? Why be foolish?'

'You think you're certain to win?'

'It's a cinch.'

'Then why trouble to come here and see me?'

I appeared to have put into words the smouldering thought which was vexing Mr MacGinnis. He burst into speech.

'Ahr chee! Sure! What's de use? Didn't I tell youse? What's de use of wastin' time? What are we spielin' away here for? Let's get busy.'

Sam waved a hand towards him with the air of a lecturer making a point.

'You see! The man of action! He likes trouble. He asks for it. He eats it alive. Now I prefer peace. Why have a fuss when you can get what you want quietly? That's my motto. That's why we've come.

It's the old proposition. We're here to buy you out. Yes, I know you have turned the offer down before, but things have changed.

Your stock has fallen. In fact, instead of letting you in on sharing terms, we only feel justified now in offering a commission.

For the moment you may seem to hold a strong position. You are in the house, and you've got the boy. But there's nothing to it really.

We could get him in five minutes if we cared to risk having a fuss.

But it seems to me there's no need of any fuss. We should win dead easy all right, if it came to trouble; but, on the other hand, you've a gun, and there's a chance some of us might get hurt, so what's the good when we can settle it quietly? How about it, sonny?'

Mr MacGinnis began to rumble, preparatory to making further remarks on the situation, but Sam waved him down and turned his brown eyes inquiringly on me.

'Fifteen per cent is our offer,' he said.

'And to think it was once fifty-fifty!'

'Strict business!'

'Business? It's sweating!'

'It's our limit. And it wasn't easy to make Buck here agree to that. He kicked like a mule.'

Buck shuffled his feet and eyed me disagreeably. I suppose it is hard to think kindly of a man who has broken your leg. It was plain that, with Mr MacGinnis, bygones were by no means bygones.

I rose.

'Well, I'm sorry you should have had the trouble of coming here for nothing. Let me see you out. Single file, please.'

Sam looked aggrieved.