the smoking…room they called to him； and to the stranger at his elbow；
but he only nodded smiling and； avoiding them； ascended to the shadow
of the deserted boat…deck。
〃You are sure；〃 he said； 〃you told no one？〃
〃No one；〃 the detective answered。 〃Of course your hotel proprietor
knows you're sailing； but he doesn't know why。 And； by sunrise；
we'll be well out at sea。〃
The words caught Hemingway by the throat。 He turned his eyes to
the town lying like a field of snow in the moonlight。 Somewhere
on one of its flat roofs a merry dinner…party was laughing； drinking；
perhaps regretting his absence； wondering at his excuse of sudden
illness。 She was there； and he with the detective like a shadow at
his elbow； was sailing out of her life forever。 He had seen her for
the last time： that morning for the last time had looked into her
eyes； had held her hands in his。 He saw the white beach； the white
fortress…like walls； the hanging gardens； the courtesying palms；
dimly。 It was among those that he who had thought himself content；
had found happiness； and had then seen it desert him and take out of
his life pleasure in all other things。 With a pain that seemed impossible
to support； he turned his back upon Zanzibar and all it meant to him。
And； as he turned； he faced； coming toward him； across the moonlit deck；
Fearing。
His instinct was to cry out to the man in warning； but his second
thought showed him that through his very effort to protect the other；
he might bring about his undoing。 So； helpless to prevent； in agitation
and alarm； he waited in silence。 Of the two men； Fearing appeared the
least disturbed。 With a polite but authoritative gesture he turned to the
detective。 〃I have something to say to this gentleman before he sails；〃
he said； 〃would you kindly stand over there？〃
He pointed across the empty deck at the other rail。
In the alert； confident young man in the English mess…jacket；
clean…shaven and bronzed by the suns of the equator； the detective
saw no likeness to the pale； bearded bank clerk of the New England
city。 This； he guessed； must be some English official； some friend
of Brownell's who generously had come to bid the unfortunate fugitive
Godspeed。
Assured of this； the detective also bowed politely； and； out of
hearing； but with his prisoner in full view； took up a position
against the rail opposite。
Turning his back upon the detective； and facing Hemingway with
his eyes close to his； Fearing began abruptly。 His voice was sunk
to a whisper； but he spoke without the slightest sign of trepidation；
without the hesitation of an instant。
〃Two years ago； when I was indicted；〃 he whispered； 〃and ran
away； Polly paid back half of the sum I stole。 That left her
without a penny； that's why she took to this typewriting。 Since
then； I have paid back nearly all the rest。 But Polly was not
satisfied。 She wanted me to take my punishment and start fresh。
She knew they were watching her so she couldn't write this to me；
but she came to me by a roundabout way； taking a year to get
here。 And all the time she's been here； she's been begging me to
go back and give myself up。 I couldn't see it。 I knew in a few
months I'd have paid back all I took； and I thought that was enough。
I wanted to keep out of jail。 But she said I must take my medicine
in our own country； and start square with a clean slate。 She's done
a lot for me； and whether I'd have done that for her or not； I don't
know。 But now； I must！ What you did to…night to save me； leaves
me no choice。 So； I'll sail〃
With an exclamation of anger； Hemingway caught the other by the
shoulder and dragged him closer。
〃To save you！〃 he whispered。 〃No one's thinking of you。 I didn't
do it for you。 I did it； that you both could escape together； to
give you time〃
〃But I tell you；〃 protested Fearing； 〃she doesn't want me to escape。
And maybe she's right。 Anyway； we're sailing with you at〃
〃We？〃 echoed Hemingway。
That again he was to see the woman he loved； that for six weeks
through summer seas he would travel in her company； filled him
with alarm； with distress； with a wonderful happiness。
〃We？〃 he whispered； steadying his voice。 〃Thenthen your wife is
going with you？〃
Fearing gazed at him as though the other had suddenly gone mad。
〃My wife！〃 he exclaimed。 〃I haven't got a wife！〃 If you mean
PollyMrs。 Adair； she is my sister！ And she wants to thank you。
She's below〃
He was not allowed to finish。 Hemingway had flung him to one
side； and was racing down the deck。
The detective sprang in pursuit。
〃One moment； there！〃 he shouted。
But the man in the white mess…jacket barred his way。
In the moonlight the detective saw that the alert； bronzed young man
was smiling。
〃That's all right；〃 said Fearing。 〃He'll be back in a minute。 Besides；
you don't want him。 I'm the man you want。〃
THE LONG ARM
The safe was an old one that opened with a key。 As adjutant；
Captain Swanson had charge of certain funds of the regiment and
kept in the safe about five thousand dollars。 No one but himself
and Rueff； his first sergeant； had access to it。 And as Rueff proved
an alibi； the money might have been removed by an outsider。 The
court…martial gave Swanson the benefit of the doubt； and a reprimand
for not taking greater care of the keys； and Swanson made good the
five thousand。
Swanson did not think it was a burglar who had robbed the safe。
He thought Rueff had robbed it； but he could not possibly prove
that。 At the time of the robbery Rueff was outside the Presidio；
in uniform； at a moving…picture show in San Francisco。 A dozen
people saw him there。 Besides； Rueff held an excellent record。
He was a silent； clerk…like young man； better at 〃paper work〃 than
campaigning； but even as a soldier he had never come upon the books。
And he had seen service in two campaigns； and was supposed to
cherish ambitions toward a commission。 But； as he kept much to
himself； his fellow non…coms could only guess that。
On his captain's account he was loyally distressed over the
court…martial； and in his testimony tried to shield Swanson； by
agreeing heartily that through his own carelessness the keys
might have fallen into the hands of some one outside the post。
But his loyalty could not save his superior officer from what was
a verdict virtually of 〃not proven。〃
It was a most distressing affair； and； on account of the social
prominence of Swanson's people； his own popularity； and the name
he had made at Batangas and in the Boxer business； was much
commented upon； not only in the services； but by the newspapers
all over the United States。
Every one who knew Swanson knew the court…martial was only a
matter of form。 Even his enemies ventured only to suggest that
overnight he might have borrowed the money； meaning to replace it
the next morning。 And the only reason for considering this explanation
was that Swanson was known to be in debt。 For he was a persistent
gambler。 Just as at Pekin he had gambled with death for his number；
in times of peace he gambled for money。 It was always his own money。
From the start Swanson's own attitude toward the affair was one
of blind； unreasoning rage。 In it he saw no necessary routine of
discipline； only crass； ignorant stupidity。 That any one should
suspect him was so preposterous； so unintelligent； as to be nearly
comic。 And when； instantly； he demanded a court of inquiry； he
could not believe it when he was summoned before a court…martial。
It sickened； wounded； deeply affronted him； turned him quite savage。
On his stand his attitude and answers were so insolent that his
old friend and classmate； Captain Copley； who was acting as his
counsel； would gladly have kicked him。 The findings of the
court…martial； that neither cleared nor condemned； and the
reprimand； were an intolerable insult to his feelings； and； in a
fit of bitter disgust with the service and every one in it； Swanson
resigned。 Of course； the moment he had done so he was sorry。
Swanson's thought was that he could no longer associate with
any one who could believe him capable of theft。 It was his
idea of showing his own opinion of himself and the army。
But no one saw it in that light。 On the contrary； people said：
〃Swanson has been allowed to resign。〃 I n the army； voluntarily
resigning and being 〃allowed to resign〃 lest greater evils befall；
are two vastly different things。 And when it was too late no one
than Swanson saw that more clearly。 His anger gave way to extreme
morbidness。 He believed that in resigning he had assured every one
of his guilt。 In every friend and stranger he saw a man who doubted
him。 He imagined snubs； rebuffs； and coldnesses。 His morbidness
fastened upon his mind like a parasite upon a tree； and the brain
sickened。 When men and women glanced at his alert； well…set…up
figure and shoulders； that even when he wore 〃cits〃 seemed to support
epaulets； and smiled approvingly； Swanson thought they sneered。 In
a week he longed to be back in the army with a homesickness that made
every one who belonged to it his enemy。
He left San Francisco； where he was known t