Cunningham sat down. "The spirit is willing, Cleigh, but the flesh is
weak. You'll never get my hide. How will you go about it? Stop a moment
and mull it over. How are you going to prove that I've borrowed the rug
and the paintings? These are your choicest possessions. You have many at
home worth more, but these things you love. Out of spite, will you inform
the British, the French, the Italian governments that you had these
objects and that I relieved you of them? In that event you'll have my
hide, but you'll never set eyes upon the oils again except upon their
lawful walls--the rug, never! On the other hand, there is every chance in
the world of my returning them to you."
"Your word?" interrupted Jane, ironically.
So Cleigh was right? A quarter of a million in art treasures!
"My word! I never before realized," continued Cunningham, "what a fine
thing it is to possess something to stand on firmly--a moral plank."
Dennison's laughter was sardonic.
"Moral plank is good," was his comment.
"Miss Norman," said Cunningham, maliciously, "I slept beside the captain
this morning, and he snores outrageously." The rogue tilted his chin and
the opal fire leaped into his eyes. "Do you want me to tell you all about
the Great Adventure Company, or do you want me to shut up and merely
proceed with the company's business without further ado? Why the devil
should I care what you think of me? Still, I do care. I want you to get my
point of view--a rollicking adventure, in which nobody loses anything and
I have a great desire fulfilled. Hang it, it's a colossal joke, and in the
end the laugh will be on nobody! Even Eisenfeldt will laugh," he added,
enigmatically.
"Do you intend to take the oils and the rug and later return them?"
demanded Jane.
"Absolutely! That's the whole story. Only Cleigh here will not believe it
until the rug and oils are dumped on the door-step of his New York home. I
needed money. Nobody would offer to finance a chart with a red cross on
it. So I had to work it out in my own fashion. The moment Eisenfeldt sees
these oils and the rug he becomes my financier, but he'll never put his
claw on them except for one thing--that act of God they mention on the
back of your ticket. Some raider may have poked into this lagoon of mine.
In that case Eisenfeldt wins."