The Swindler and Other Stories | Page 5

as raise his eyes.
West shrugged his shoulders again, ever so slightly, and swung slowly upon his heel. In a dead silence he walked away down the saloon. No one spoke till he had gone.
* * * * *
A black, moaning night had succeeded the grey, gusty day. The darkness came down upon the sea like a pall, covering the long, heaving swell from sight--a darkness that wrapped close, such a darkness as could be felt--through which the spray drove blindly.
There was small attraction for passengers on deck, and West grimaced to himself as he emerged from the heated cabins. Yet it was not altogether distasteful to him. He was a man to whom a calm atmosphere meant intolerable stagnation. He was essentially born to fight his way in the world.
For a while he paced alone, to and fro, along the deserted deck, his hands behind him, the inevitable cigarette between his lips. But presently he paused and stood still close to the companion by which he had ascended. It was sheltered here, and he leaned against the woodwork by which Cynthia Mortimer had supported herself that morning, and smoked serenely and meditatively.
Minutes passed. There came the sound of hurrying feet upon the stairs behind him, and he moved a little to one side, glancing downwards.
The light at the head of the companion revealed a man ascending, bareheaded, and in evening dress. His face, upturned, gleamed deathly white. It was the face of Archie Bathurst.
West suddenly squared his shoulders and blocked the opening.
"Go and get an overcoat, you young fool!" he said.
Archie gave a great start, stood a second, then, without a word, turned back and disappeared.
West left his sheltered corner and paced forward across the deck. He came to a stand by the rail, gazing outwards into the restless darkness. There seemed to be the hint of a smile in his intent eyes.
A few more minutes drifted away. Then there fell a step behind him; a hand touched his arm.
"Can I speak to you?" Archie asked.
Slowly West turned.
"If you have anything of importance to say," he said.
Archie faced him with a desperate resolution.
"I want to ask you--I want to know--what in thunder you did it for!"
"Eh?" said West. "Did what?"
He almost drawled the words, as if to give the boy time to control his agitation.
Archie stared at him incredulously.
"You must know what I mean."
"Haven't an idea."
There was just a tinge of contempt this time in the words. What an unconscionable bungler the fellow was!
"But you must!" persisted Archie, blundering wildly. "I suppose you knew what you were doing just now when--when----"
"I generally know what I am doing," observed West.
"Then why----"
Archie stumbled again, and fell silent, as if he had hurt himself.
"I don't always care to discuss my motives," said West very decidedly.
"But surely--" Archie suddenly pulled up, realising that by this spasmodic method he was making no headway. "Look here, sir," he said, more quietly, "you've done a big thing for me to-night--a dashed fine thing! Heaven only knows what you did it for, but----"
"I have done nothing whatever for you," said West shortly. "You make a mistake."
"But you'll admit----"
"I admit nothing."
He made as if he would turn on his heel, but Archie caught him by the arm.
"I know I'm a cur," he said. And his voice shook a little. "I don't wonder you won't speak to me. But there are some things that can't be left unsaid. I'm going down now, at once, to tell those fellows what actually happened."
"Then you are going to make a big fool of yourself to no purpose," said West.
He stood still, scanning the boy's face with pitiless eyes. Archie writhed impotently.
"I can't stand it!" he said, with vehemence. "I thought I was blackguard enough to let you do it. But--no doubt I'm a fool, as you say--I find I can't."
"You can't help yourself," said West. He planted himself squarely in front of Archie. "Listen to this!" he said. "You know what I am?"
"They say you are a detective," said Archie.
West nodded.
"Exactly. And, as such, I do whatever suits my purpose without explaining why to the rest of the world. If you are fortunate enough to glean a little advantage from what I do, take it, and be quiet about it. Don't hamper me with your acknowledgments. I assure you I have no more concern for your ultimate fate than those fellows below that you've been swindling all the evening. One thing I will say, though, for your express benefit. You will never make a good, even an indifferently good, gambler. And as to card-sharping, you've no talent whatever. Better give it up."
His blue eyes looked straight at Archie with a stare that was openly supercilious, and Archie stood abashed.
"You--you are awfully good," he stammered at length.
West's brief laugh lived in his memory for