A Secret Society (Spy Thriller). Talbot Mundy

      “The British Government thought highly enough of him to keep him in their Intelligence Department, while they were retrenching in every direction.”

      “Expects the sack now, does he?”

      “Jeremy is trying to persuade him to resign.”

      “Who’s Jeremy?”

      “Jeremy Ross—Australian. Knows Arabic as well as Grim does. Kidnaped in the War and carried off into the heart of Arabia. Made good. Escaped—gathered a following—led them the whole length of Arabia—discovered a gold-mine—worked it—dollied out more than two thousand pounds—made himself a power in the land—and was finally rescued by Grim and me with the help of Narayan Singh and some Arabs. Made a present of his mine to Feisul the other day, as a private contribution to the Arab cause.”

      “Um-m-m. Mine any good?”

      “Best I ever saw.”

      “Gave it to the Arabs, eh? Who’s Narayan Singh?”

      “Sikh. Friend of Grim’s. Sepoy in the British Army. On a bat just now—discouraged.”

      “Broke?”

      “Not while I’ve a nickel left.”

      “How long have you been acting banker to broken men?” Meldrum Strange demanded, looking at me curiously.

      “Nothing to it,” I answered. “But I’ll back a good man when he’s down the same way you helped the market in the 1907 panic. Maybe it’ll pay me, same as buying stocks paid you. If it don’t I’ll take my loss, and you won’t be any the wiser, Meldrum Strange.”

      “Extraordinary!” he said. “Most extraordinary! World full of coincidences. Time was I’d have doubted this. Looks too good.”

      “Same here,” I said. “Few things fit without blacksmith-work and blasting. Study this right carefully before you submit proposals. We’d hate to let you down.”

      ” ‘We?’ ” he asked.

      “All or none,” I said. “When you showed up we were just beginning to talk partnership.”

      “Those your two friends opposite?”

      He sat and looked at them for several minutes.

      “The one with his back turned is Ross, I take it, and the other Grim?” he said at last. “You vouch for both of them, eh? I’m inclined to think you may be right.”

      He sat for five more minutes saying nothing, chewing steadily at the stump of his cigar, and every now and then casting a sidewise glance at me. At last he threw away the cigar with a gesture that meant he had made his mind up.

      “Anyhow,” he said, “men like you are scarce. It’s like looking for a dime and finding a dollar bill. Bring ‘em over here!”

      I caught Grim’s eye; and he and Jeremy strolled over, laughing at one of Jeremy’s jokes. I introduced them and they sat down.

      “You the old robber who cornered platinum?” asked Jeremy.

      “In my youth I was guilty of that,” Strange answered dryly.

      “Hah! My old dad bought International Platinum stock at bottom on margin, and followed you all the way up! He invested the proceeds in a sheep station. My regards!” said Jeremy, with a wave of the hand that signified a lot of things. “You big whales all have barnacles on your belly. We three now haven’t got a parasite between us.”

      “Isn’t there a drunken Sikh?” Strange answered.

      “There’s a Sikh who happens to be drunk,” said Jeremy. “If you want to see some fun, old top, come with us. Grim can tell you. Grim’s had to tidy up after him half-a-dozen times.”

      Grim volunteered no information. All he knew yet was that Meldrum Strange was a multimillionaire with a reputation for titanic thoroughness.

      “Came to make Ramsden a business offer,” said Strange abruptly. “He tells me you three are inseparable.”

      “Agreed five minutes ago,” smiled Jeremy, with the air of a man raking in a jack-pot. “We’re Grim, Ramsden, and Ross.”

      “What are you going to do?” asked Strange.

      “Oh, anything. The world’s full of things to do,” said Jeremy. “What d’you want? We’re charter members of the Jack-of-all-trades Union. Exploring expeditions fixed up while you wait. Kings dethroned and national boundaries rearranged to order. Mines discovered, opened up, and worked. Revolutions produced or prevented. Horses swapped. Teeth pulled by the piece or dozen. Everything contracted for, from flaying whales to raising potatoes on Mount Everest, wholesale jobs preferred. All you’ve got to do is name your requirements, write your check, and sign your contract on the dotted line. We do the rest. Shoot, old top; we’re listening.”

      Strange glanced at me. He looked over at Grim, with no more result. Having agreed to be Jeremy’s partners, there was nothing further for us to say in his behalf; and Strange saw the obvious logic of that after a minute.

      “You didn’t mention keeping secrets in your list of offerings,” he said, holding out his cigar case.

      Jeremy took one, balanced it on the end of one finger, tossed it, caught it between his teeth, apparently swallowed it whole, and handed the case back.

      “Count ‘em,” was all he said.

      There was the same number of cigars in the case as before, but one of them bore teeth-marks. Strange pulled it out, examined it, and tossed it with a laugh to Jeremy, who caught it, spun it point-downward on the table like a top, and while it still spun brought down the flat of his hand on it as if driving a nail into the wood. He removed his hand instantly, showing it empty. The cigar had disappeared, but a second later he produced it undamaged from his mouth with the other hand. It was superbly done, like all his tricks.

      “Do you know how to do that?” he asked.

      “No,” said Strange.

      “I know you don’t. I’ve kept that secret twenty years. Show you another.”

      “No,” Strange answered. “I get the drift of your genius. Major Grim, I understand you’re senior partner of this unusual firm.”

      “We’re ready to listen to your proposal,” said Grim.

      “Can I depend on your silence if you shouldn’t like the offer after I’ve made it?”

      “I’ve kept Government secrets for a number of years,” Grim answered. “Depend on all three of us absolutely.”

      “Suppose you all come to my room.”

      “Here’s the best place,” Grim answered. “We can see all ways, and can’t be overheard.”

      So, as happens I daresay oftener than folk suspect, a secret that had never yet passed the lips of its first guardian was trotted out, not within four walls, but in full view of the street.

      “I’ll begin at the beginning,” said Strange, biting on a new cigar. “I’m an egoist. Nothing matters to a man but what he does. Not what he gets, but what he does. That’s my religion, and the whole of it. I’ve amassed an enormous fortune. Never had partners. I regard my fortune as the product of my own use of natural gifts in compliance with universal laws. I never consciously broke a written law accumulating it, but I’ve often done things that experience has since taught me are not in the general interest, and I believe that what I do in the general interest is the only thing that counts as far as I’m concerned. I’m face to face with a fact, a question, and a condition. I have the fortune. What am I going to do with it? No good comes of doing things for people. That’s the problem. What shall I do? It’s up to me to use my money in the general interest.”

      “Why worry? Pay off a part of your national debt, and go to sleep,”