“I told you what I would do if you tried that,” said Elliott, in an even voice. “I’ll do it; you can count on me. I’m just as keen on getting that stuff as you are, but by fair play. After all, Sevier and Carlton can’t be so much ahead of us, and they don’t know where to look.”
“I expect I’m as quick as you are, if it came to shooting,” said Bennett. “But a row would spoil everything, bring in the police and all sorts of nastiness. But look there—that’s what I’ve been looking at.” He indicated a large placard bearing the sailing dates of the ships of the Union Castle Line for South Africa. “Didn’t you say that our ship sailed Tuesday noon? That card says Monday noon, and that’s to-day, and it’s eleven-forty now.”
“By Jove, that’s so!” said Elliott, looking hard at the card. “The agent in New York certainly said Tuesday. Here,” he called to a clerk. “Is that sailing list right? Does the Avon Castle sail to-day?”
“Sails at noon sharp, sir,” the clerk assured him.
Elliott exploded an ejaculation and shot out of the office. Luckily there was a cab within a few yards; luckily again, it was a four-wheeler.
“Hotel Surry, quick as you know how!” shouted Bennett, and the driver whipped up his horses. There was just eighteen minutes, and to miss the steamer would entail a delay of three or four days, when every hour was worth red gold.
“Won’t you hear reason?” said Bennett. “Won’t you help me to make her give up that map? Everything may depend on this minute.”
“No, I won’t,” countered Elliott, flatly.
“You’re as bad as she is. If I had Henninger here, we’d coerce you; and by Jove, you’d better think what you’ll say to the boys when they hear that you’ve queered the whole game.”
“I’ll take the blame,” said Elliott; though in his heart he disliked the situation almost as much as his companion did.