Cutty resumed his pacing. The moment his imagination caught the
essentials he visualized the Odyssey. Across mountains and deserts,
rivers and seas, he followed Two-Hawks in fancy, pursued by an
implacable hatred, more or less historical, of which the lad was less
a cause than an abstract object. And Karlov--Cutty understood Karlov
now--always span near, his hate reenergizing his faltering feet.
There was evidently some iron in this Two-Hawks' blood. Fear never
would have carried him thus far. Fear would have whispered, "Futility!
Futility!" And he would have bent his head to the stroke. So then there
was resource and there was courage. And he lay in yonder room, beaten
and penniless. The top piece in the grim irony--to have come all these
thousands of miles unscathed, to be dropped at the goal. But America?
Well, that would be solved later.
"By the Lord Harry!" Cutty stopped and struck his hands together. "The
drums!"
From the hour Kitty had pronounced the name Stefani Gregor an idea had
taken lodgment, an irrepressible idea, that somewhere in this drama
would be the drums of jeopardy. The mark of the thong! Never any
doubt of it now. Those magnificent emeralds were here in New York,
The mob--the Red Guard--hammering on the doors, what would have been
Two-Hawks' most natural first thought? To gather what treasures the
hand could be laid to and flee. Here in New York, and in Karlov's hands,
ultimately to be cut up for Bolshevik propaganda! The infernal pity of
it!
The passion of the gem hunter blazed forth, dimming all other phases of
the drama. Here was a real game, a man's game; sport! Cutty rubbed his
hands together pleasurably. To recover those green flames before
they could be broken up; under the ancient ruling that "Findings is
keepings." The stones, of course, meant nothing to Karlov beyond the
monetary value; and upon this fact Cutty began developing a plan. He
stood ready to buy those stones if he could draw them into the open.
Lord, how he wanted them! Murder and loot, always murder and loot!
The thought of those two incomparable emeralds being broken up
distressed him profoundly. He must act at once, before the desecration
could be consummated. Two-Hawks--Hawksley hereafter, for the sake of
convenience--had an equity in the gems; but what of that? In smuggling
them in--and how the deuce had he done it?--he had thrown away his
legal right to them. Cutty kneaded his conscience into a satisfactory
condition of quiescence and went on with his planning. If he succeeded
in recovering the stones and his conscience bit a little too deeply
for comfort--why, he could pay over to Hawksley twenty per cent. of
the price Karlov demanded. He could take it or leave it. In a case like
this--to a bachelor without dependents--money was no object. All
his life he had wanted a fine emerald to play with, and here was an
opportunity to acquire two!