One day, after the conclusion of a certain transaction between Burroughs and a cotton-grower, Reinhardt remarked dryly to Errington that Ehrlich Söhne had lost a chance of making a considerable profit.
"I dare say," said Errington quickly, "but Burroughs and I must either work together, or definitely work against each other. If we are going to cut each other's throats I'd better go back to Shanghai."
"Nonsense, my dear fellow: nozink farzer from my soughts. You do very well; only I am vexed to lose good business."
The matter dropped. Reinhardt found Errington too useful to be willing to quarrel with him. But a little later he let fall a hint that if Errington held his tongue, it would be possible to carry through certain business deals from time to time without Burroughs' knowledge. Vague as the hint was, it disgusted Errington, and he felt a dawning distrust of Reinhardt; but the German, quick to read him, laughed it off as a joke, saying that no one could suppose that Damon and Pythias could for a moment be separated. Errington did not mention these matters to his friend, from a reluctance to admit that Burroughs' opinion of Reinhardt was justified.
It was soon evident to them both that Reinhardt, however much he might be disliked by the community at Shanghai, enjoyed somewhat unusual privileges. His frequent absences were known to his principals, and he made many visits to Shanghai and Kiauchou--visits which Errington, who had good means of judging, knew were not connected with the business. A little light was thrown on the matter by Burroughs' comprador, who told his master one day that he had a brother whose brother-in-law kept an opium den at a small town a few miles up the river. Opium-smoking was forbidden in China, but, like gambling and lotteries and other prohibited things, it was winked at by the local mandarins in many parts of the country, in consideration of heavy bribes. Reinhardt's launch was often seen anchored off the place, sometimes when he had gone there ostensibly to transact business with a cloth-dealer, at other times as a stage in his longer journeys. He had not the appearance of a victim of the opium habit, and Burroughs concluded that he gave way to occasional bouts, of which the effects were temporary.
CHAPTER IV
RIVER PIRATES
One day Errington had occasion to go some sixty or seventy miles up river, to look after a consignment of goods which had been wrecked in one of the native junks. He had some reason to suspect that the wreck had not been merely an accident. There was a good deal of unrest in that part of the country. Various cases of piracy had been reported both up and down the river, and in Reinhardt's absence Errington thought he had better run up himself, see that the cargo was safe, and make a few inquiries into the state of affairs generally.
Burroughs and he had devoted much of their spare time to their flying boat, which they were determined should thoroughly deserve the name by the time they visited Shanghai again. The journey offered an opportunity of testing it over a longer distance and in deeper water than hitherto, so Burroughs was nothing loath to accept his friend's invitation to accompany him, and took a day off for the purpose. They employed the vessel as a hydroplane on the way up, being reluctant to run any risks until Errington's business had been attended to.
On arriving at the scene of the wreck, Errington found that to all appearance this had been purely accidental. He arranged for the salvage of the goods, and the forwarding of them in another junk, and then set off in the early afternoon on the return journey.