The Flying Boat: A Story of Adventure and Misadventure
CHAPTER V
DIVIDED WAYS
With the coming of winter the two Englishmen found fewer opportunitiesof employing their leisure time. They both paid short visits toShanghai, but could not long be spared from their branches. The intensecold made hydroplaning or flying a pastime of doubtful pleasure, andthey had to fall back on their own resources, or on the recreationsafforded by the European society of the town.
Burroughs did not care for what he called "racketing." He was fond ofreading, and preferred an evening with his books to social functions.He joined Errington in games of draughts, chess or dominoes; but thesesedentary amusements had few attractions for the more active andrestless member of the chummery, who could not find in reading, either,a substitute for his usual recreations. Occasionally they went outshooting together: the reed-beds of the river abounded in wild fowl; butthe country was becoming more and more disturbed; the unrest which isalways fermenting in out-of-the-way parts of China broke out in riotsand other disorders; and one day they received a polite request from theviceroy of the province to keep within the precincts of the settlement.The viceroy had a nervous dread lest they should come to some harm, andtheir Government cause trouble, which would result possibly in hisdismissal from office and the consequent loss of opportunities ofenriching himself, or even, if the matter were very serious, in the lossof his buttons. As peaceable traders they had no option but to complyas gracefully as possible with this request: though if they had had nobusiness interests to consider, they would have been prepared to takethe risk of the attacks to which small parties of Europeans arefrequently exposed in the remoter provinces, especially during periodsof popular excitement.
The result of this enforced idleness on Errington was that he fell morereadily than he might otherwise have done to the temptation ofReinhardt's card-parties, which became during the winter a nightlyinstitution. Reinhardt was now seldom absent, and with one or two otherGermans in the settlement he spent the long evenings over cards.Errington would sometimes rise from his seat in the little sitting-roomhe shared with Burroughs, pace the floor restlessly, then, with a glanceat his companion engrossed in a book, slip out, more or lessshamefacedly at first, but afterwards with scanter offers to justifyhimself, and make his way to Reinhardt's bungalow, where he was alwaysassured of a warm welcome.
It was unfortunate that he should find himself possessed of an unusualaptitude for cards: still more unfortunate that for a time he had theluck that proverbially attends beginners. The card-players played forstakes, and as the season advanced, the amount of the stakes, as sofrequently happens, advanced too. Errington never deliberately intendedto play high, but he was almost insensibly led on by the example of theolder men; and having begun, he lacked the firmness to withdraw, andshrank from appearing less of a sportsman than the others.
As was only to be expected, the luck presently turned against him, andone night, after long play, he found himself not only stripped of allhis money, but in debt to Reinhardt. This position was irksome to ahigh-spirited temperament. The idea of owing money to his superior wasunendurable, and after a restless night, during which he slept little,he resolved to borrow from his chum enough to clear him.
"Got a few dollars to spare, old chap?" he said with an assumedlight-heartedness at breakfast.
Burroughs flushed, and cast his eyes upon his plate: an onlooker wouldhave thought from his manner that he was the culprit. He knew very wellwhat was coming, and felt instinctively what Errington had sufferedinwardly before he could have brought himself to this point.
"You can have what you like, Pidge--in reason, of course."
"Thanks. I could do with twenty or thirty dollars just now. Sorry totrouble you."
"Oh, hang it, man, don't talk such rot. What's mine's yours any time youlike."
Errington pocketed the money hastily, and spoke of something else. Hisdiscomfort was so obvious that Burroughs hoped he would drop thecard-playing forthwith. Until the monthly cheque for his salaryarrived, indeed, Errington absented himself from Reinhardt's parties.He repaid Burroughs at once, and for a week or two never went out in theevening. But then the old restlessness crept upon him; once more hejoined the jolly party; then not an evening passed without his leavingthe chummery as soon as it was dark, not to return until long pastmidnight. His losses became more serious, and he played again in anattempt to retrieve them, only to plunge deeper still.
One morning, with pale face and stammering lips, quite unlike his wontedself, he asked Burroughs for the loan of a hundred dollars.
"All right, old man," said his friend, determinedly cheerful, "butaren't you going the pace rather?"
"What do you mean?" demanded Errington hotly, his old resentment atrestraint flaming forth.
"Well, it's no affair of mine, of course, but it's a pity, don't youthink, to let that fellow Reinhardt get the whip hand of you?"
"Confound you, why are you always girding at Reinhardt? What's he doneto you? Anybody would think he's an ogre, waiting to crunch my bones, tohear you talk." He ignored the fact that for months Burroughs had notonce opened his mouth on the subject. "What's a fellow to do if hecan't enjoy a harmless game? It's all straight; you don't suppose I'dplay with sharpers; and one can't always win. You don't want me toshirk it when I lose, I suppose? I tell you what it is: you're gettingmean and miserly; you're afraid you won't get your beastly money back."
"You know me better than that, Pidge," said Burroughs quietly. "You'rea bit off colour, old chap. Here's your hundred; pay me when you like."
If Errington had obeyed his impulse at that moment he would haveapologized to Burroughs, and renounced Reinhardt and all his works onceand for ever. But shame, the sense of being in the wrong, false pride,and above all the gambler's perpetual hope of success, tied his tongue,and the precious moment slipped away.
Burroughs was very much surprised to get his money back within a fewdays--before, as he knew, Errington had received any further remittancesfrom Shanghai.
"Much obliged, Moley," Errington said as he laid the notes beside hisfriend's plate one morning.
Burroughs glanced up, but Errington would not meet his eye; so with a"Thanks, old man!" as casual as Errington's own remark, he put the notesinto his pocket and began cheerfully to talk shop. But he was muchdisturbed in mind. If his chum had won the money, it would encouragehim to go on gambling. If he had not won it, how had he obtained it sosoon? Burroughs hoped with all his heart that he had not borrowed ofReinhardt or any other German of the set. It was bad enough thatReinhardt should entice his subordinate to play at all; and the lowopinion that Burroughs held of him fell still lower.
He would have been even more perturbed had he known the real source ofErrington's money. Restive under the disapproval, of which he wasconscious, though Burroughs never again uttered it, the lad was foolishenough to apply to the Chinese money-lenders. They were ready to obligea young Englishman, and fixed their interest to match the risk, as theysaid: which meant that they would squeeze as much as possible out of himby working on his fears of exposure and disgrace.
The nightly card-parties went on, and Errington became a constantattendant. There grew up a constraint between the two friends.Burroughs was anxious and worried, and could not help showing it.Errington, in his own worried state of mind, was annoyed at his friend'smanner, all the more because he knew very well that he himself was inthe wrong. His high spirits gave way to moodiness and irritability, andafter a time he avoided Burroughs. It was a trying position for both ofthem, inmates of one lodging. They saw less and less of each other, andwhen they could not but meet, what conversation passed between them wasalmost confined to business matters.
Naturally the affairs of the few Europeans in the town were freelydiscussed by their native servants and their cronies. Vague rumours cameto Burroughs' ears, after a long round, of what went on at Reinhardt'scard-parties. It appeared that Reinhardt himself was frequent
ly thewinner when the stakes were high, and Burroughs became less and lesstolerant of a man who ought to have been particularly scrupulous inkeeping his subordinate out of mischief. Reinhardt was always verypolite and pleasant when he met Burroughs, but on more than one occasionthe latter was rude to him. There were no half measures with Burroughs.
One day, talking shop because they seemed to have now no other commontopic, Burroughs mentioned to Errington that he was negotiating a verylarge transaction with a Chinese broker, and stated the terms on whichthe consignment of goods was to change hands. Errington congratulatedhim on the prospect of doing a good stroke of business, and the subjectdropped.
Next day, however, at the last moment, the negotiations fell through, toBurroughs' great annoyance. It was a loss to his branch, andincidentally to himself, for both he and Errington had a small interestin the turnover of their branches, as well as a salary. He was alsovexed at having mentioned the matter to Errington, when it was so unlikehim to talk about things that were still uncertain.
What was his surprise and irritation a few days later to hear from hiscomprador that the transaction in which he had failed had been completedby Errington, who had overbid him.
"Nonsense! Absolute rot!" he said to the man, feeling indignant on hisfriend's behalf.
The comprador spread out his hands deprecatingly and said--
"Allo lightee savvy all same, sah. Mass' Ellington he go buy all jollylot."
"Shut up; I don't believe it."
The Chinaman shrugged: surely his master was very short this morning!But he said no more. Two days after, however, he brought Burroughs theorder for the goods, written on the official paper of Ehrlich Soehne,and signed with Errington's initials. At this, even a friend of longstanding might well be staggered. Burroughs remembered that his chumhad been looking more and more worried of late. He came to breakfastwith a pale face and weary eyes, and the look of a man who had notslept. Could it be that, in his urgent need of money, he had fallen tothe temptation of snatching this business out of the hands of the otherhouse? If it had been Reinhardt, Burroughs would not have been at allsurprised; but that Errington had taken advantage of the informationcasually given him to steal a march on his friend was inconceivable.Burroughs knew perfectly well that at the time when negotiations were inprogress with him, Feng Wai, the Chinese merchant, had made no overturesto the German firm, so that there was no question of the firms beingplayed off against each other. Besides, it had always been anunderstanding between the two old school-fellows that, a price havingonce been named, each should abide by it.
The position was unendurable to Burroughs, who at once stepped over toErrington's office, and walked, as he had always been accustomed to do,though not frequently of late, straight into his room. Once, Erringtonwould have sprung up from his seat with a hearty word of greeting: nowhe remained sitting, with a look of embarrassment.
"I say, Pidge," began Burroughs, trying to speak in an ordinary tone,"what's this I hear about Feng Wai doing better with you than with me?I told you, you remember, that I had practically concluded the deal."
Burroughs was but a poor actor, and his manner, rather than his tone,told Errington that he was labouring under some strong feeling. Nervousand irritable as he was, Errington at once took offence.
"I shouldn't listen to gossip, if I were you," he said; "next time comestraight to me."
"As it happens, I have come straight to you as soon as I had seen withmy own eyes what I wouldn't believe when I heard it. I don't want anymore information than your signature."
"Look here, do you mean to be offensive, or can't you help it? Saystraight out that you think I've gone behind your back, if you do thinkit."
"Well then, if you want it straight, you shall have it," said Burroughs,losing his temper. "I've seen your order, signed with your initials.After our agreement it would have been bad enough if I'd said nothing toyou; but having myself given you the terms, in confidence, as Isupposed----"
"That's enough!" cried Errington, springing up, his eyes ablaze withanger. "You've been looking accusations against me for months past, andI've had enough of it. You always had the makings of a fine prig. Untilyou beg my pardon, I swear I'll have nothing more to do with you."
And flinging out of the office, he slammed the door behind him.
Burroughs was as much hurt as enraged. This was the first serious rowbetween them since their early school-days. But he was not inclined toapologize. He felt that he had asked for information in a perfectlycivil way; and though, in his heart, he could not help suspecting thatthere was possibly some mistake, the sarcasm of his old friend hadwounded him too bitterly for him to hold out the olive branch.
When he went home to the chummery, the gravity of the quarrel was provedby the fact that Errington had removed all his personal belongings.
"Where's Mr. Errington?" he asked of Chin Tai, his servant.
"He gone wailo Mass' Leinhadt," said the man, grinning. He was glad tohave seen the back of Lo San, Errington's man.
And next morning, when Lo San brought an envelope containing aremittance for the entire amount that Errington owed him, Burroughs feltstill more deeply incensed. To repay him with money borrowed from theGerman seemed the finishing stroke to their old friendship. In the olddays, a quiet talk would have set matters right instantly; but theprevious coolness between them, due to Errington's gambling, renderedthat course now impossible.
The explanation was exceedingly simple. Errington had received aninquiry from Feng Wai immediately after he had heard from Burroughs ofthe negotiation in progress. He had quoted exactly the same terms, andthe bargain was struck. But the Chinaman found that, the rates havinggone up slightly, he was unable to supply the goods, and went to theoffice to ask to be released from his contract. It happened thatErrington was out at the time, but Reinhardt was there. Scenting achance of raising a difference between the two friends, Reinhardt agreedto give the enhanced price, merely altering the figures in the contractnote, taking care to make the new figures as like Errington's aspossible. The Chinese merchant is usually as good as his word; but FengWai had had only a verbal understanding with Burroughs, and thoughthimself justified in concluding the transaction at the higher price.Reinhardt stipulated that the extra price should not be disclosed; butBurroughs' comprador often got information through private channels, andit was not long before he was aware of the terms of the bargain.
The appearance of Errington at his bungalow that evening, in a toweringrage, told Reinhardt that his scheme had succeeded, but he was scarcelyprepared for the completeness of the breach between the friends. He owedBurroughs the grudge which a mean and dishonourable man often owes amore honourable one for no other reason than that he is more honourable.He was now anxious that Errington should not discover the change ofprice, for he knew that, if he heard of it, he would at once seek to puthimself right with his friend. Errington was too angry at first to giveany explanation of the quarrel; but presently he said--
"What's all this tosh about outbidding Burroughs with Feng Wai? Nothingin it, is there?"
"Of course not. You initialled ze contract yourself, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Ze invoice will prove it: I show you zat to-morrow when we go to zeoffice."
Before night he had made a private arrangement with Feng Wai that thegoods should be invoiced at the original price, and that the differenceshould be made up by Reinhardt himself. His intention was to recouphimself by an adjustment in his private ledger under what an Englishmanwould call "squeeze." The invoice, consequently, satisfied Erringtonthat there was no foundation for Burroughs' suspicion, and he nourisheda deep resentment against his old friend for harbouring it. Reinhardtwas, of course, careful to file the altered contract note among hisprivate papers: to alter the figures back again could hardly be done soneatly as to escape the notice of one so keen as Errington.
Thus Errington became an inmate of Reinhardt's house, and the breachbetween the two friend
s widened. In a place where there is only a smallcommunity of white men, a disagreement of this kind is at once setright, or it becomes far more acute. With Errington, the mere idea thathe could be suspected by his friend of such a trick as he had accusedhim of rankled more and more as time went on. He found himselfharbouring bitter thoughts, not only of him, but of Mr. Ting; for in hisperverted state of mind he was ready to listen to Reinhardt'ssuggestions that the Chinaman had profited by his father's losses, andwas actually enjoying a wealth which, if right were done, would be hisown.
By and by his bitterness of spirit was if possible aggravated by thesuspicion that Reinhardt cheated at cards. Being more continuously inthe German's company, he noticed little things, slight manifestations ofcharacter, which had before escaped him. He watched his host more andmore carefully, and though he was unable to bring the matter home tohim, he grew at length almost convinced that Reinhardt was a swindler.This, coming upon the loss of his friend, which in his better moments hefelt deeply, so worked upon him that he found his situation unendurable,and applied to his firm for a transfer still farther up the river. Themanagers at first hesitated, but his threat to resign unless hisapplication was granted, coupled with reports of his business aptitudefrom all with whom he had come in contact, produced the result hedesired. Rather than lose his services, the firm put him in charge of asmall sub-branch at Chia-ling Fu.