The Night of the Absentee Agent

Chapter 6

All at Sea

"You bastard!" Marshall shouted at his brother, knowing it was on his orders that Sam had been knocked out. He knelt down to check on his friend. "Sam, Sam, wake up!" Then he felt for a pulse and groaned with relief when he found one. "Lucky for you, he's still alive," he said, glaring at Morgan North.

"Or what, Marsh?" Morgan taunted him, pointing a gun in his direction. "There's nothing you can do to hurt me while I'm armed and surrounded by my men." He turned to the man who had knocked Artie out. "Handcuff their hands and feet, Farrow!" he ordered. Farrow signalled to a man standing in the doorway and the pair of them hurried to obey, grabbing Marshall's arms. Marshall struggled but he and his brother knew it was only for the sake of it. Morgan was ruthless and Marshall knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot him if he felt like it.

Once Marshall was immobilised and laid on the floor, the two men turned their attention to Artie. He presented no problem to them but, once he was laid on his back, there came a cry from Farrow.

"I know this one," he said. "He's a secret agent working for the US Treasury named Artemus Gordon. He broke up a counterfeit ring I was in. I was lucky to get away."

"That's rubbish!" Marshall said. "His name's Sam Treadwell and I've known him for years. I was best man at his wedding."

"What do you say to that, Farrow?" Morgan asked.

"I don't care what he says, that's Artemus Gordon. I never forget a face."

"Well, I'm not prepared to take the risk; we're going to have to dispose of him. We can't afford to have the government snooping around here."

"No!" Marshall shouted. "You're wrong, leave him alone!"

"You're in no position to give me orders. But don't worry, he won't be alone. This is where I become an only child, at last. It's the end of the road for The Magpie."

"But..."

"I'm getting bored. Deal with them, Farrow, and don't bother me with the details! Oh, and by the way, I don't want their bodies turning up anywhere near here."

Farrow's way of dealing with Marshall was to whack him on the back of the head with the butt of his gun.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The first thing Artie was aware of was the smell of rancid water and turpentine. He was in some kind of container, which was dark except for light seeping in through a small, round opening on one side. He decided someone had put him in an empty turpentine barrel and was glad of the air coming through the bung-hole. His situation was not helped by the throbbing pain in the head and the last thing he remembered was being struck down.

The smells and the sense of movement told him that he was probably in the cargo hold of a steam ship. He wondered if Marshall was in there with him, or if he and his brother were in the counterfeiting business together.

Back in the hotel, he'd attached a lock pick to the underside of his lapel with a pin and hoped it was still there. He managed to release it, even though his wrists were chained together, and made short work of the handcuffs and the ones around his ankles. Then he stayed still for a while, waiting for the whirling ache in his head to subside to a bearable level.

Five minutes later, he discovered that it was much easier to remove the top of a barrel from the inside, with sheer brute force. Exhausted from the exertion, he sat back down in the barrel until he gained the strength and the equilibrium to climb out of it and into the hold of the ship.

Looking around, Artie could see several barrels. He decided to start with the ones nearest to his own and knocked on the top of each, calling "Marsh!"

On the third try he thought he heard a groan and knocked again, repeating Marsh's name.

"Sam, is that you?" came a groggy voice from inside the barrel.

"Yeah, are you all right?"

"I have one hell of a headache but I can't complain seeing as how Morgan said he was going to kill us."

"He would have succeeded if it hadn't been for my trusty lock-pick. We could have died of thirst in a few days in these barrels."

"Talking of which, would you mind getting me out?" Marshall asked.

"Sorry, Marsh, there must be a crowbar around here somewhere. I'll be back in a minute."

There was one hanging on the wall near the opening to the hold and Artie spared no time in releasing Marsh from his prison and then removing his chains with the lock-pick.

"We ought to find out what ship we're on and where it's headed," Artie said. But the cargo-hold doors were locked and they had no way to open them, so they were forced to knock on them loudly, with the crowbar, trusting that the crew would let them out.

They could hear people talking and then the doors opened noisily and a voice came down to them.

"I say, mate, what are you doing down there, are you stowaways or something?"

As their eyes became used to the bright light, Artie and Marsh could see that the owner of the voice was dressed in a sailor's uniform and his accent revealed that he was English. Where on earth were they?

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Fifteen minutes later Artie and Marsh found themselves seated in Captain Pritchard's cabin, on board the S.S. Ludlow, of the Castle Line, on route from New York to Southampton, England. Both were nursing a cup of hot tea, laced with a nip of brandy to fortify them after their ordeal. The Captain was talking.

"So you say that this Morgan North stowed you in my ship's hold, chained up inside a couple of barrels?" he queried.

"That must have been what happened," Artie said. "The last thing I knew was when he had me knocked unconscious. I woke up in your hold."

"And why would he do such a thing?"

"Because," Marsh intervened, "he was using stolen treasury plates to print counterfeit money and we went there to try and stop him."

Artie looked at his companion in surprise. So that was what it had all been about. Marsh wasn't the thief at all, his twin brother was.

"Are you working for the police then?" the Captain asked.

"No," Artie replied. He looked at Marsh, before continuing, "I'm a secret service agent. My name is Artemus Gordon. This man is Marshall North, Morgan's brother. He knew where Morgan would be and he was helping me to get the plates back. I'm sorry I don't have any identification on me, but I've been working undercover," he concluded.

Marsh looked at him with shock and anger on his face, but the look was brief and he quickly schooled his features to betray nothing of what he felt. He had to back up Sam's...no, Gordon's story, if they were to convince the Captain.

"So you failed to stop these counterfeiters then." Pritchard said.

"No, I managed to contact Washington before we confronted them. Agents should already have dealt with them by now."

This brought a look of relief to Marsh's face. Thanks to Gordon's help, Morgan would be put away and he wouldn't be able to threaten anyone again.

"Well, I shall have to verify your credentials after we arrive in England," Captain Pritchard said, "but that won't be for three weeks. In the meantime, you'll be my guests. I'm sure we can find you a cabin, albeit a small one."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The cabin was typical of most of those found on steam passenger ships. There was just about enough room for a bunk bed and a small sink. As it was only for three weeks, they shouldn't be too uncomfortable, especially as they had been told they could have access to the decks. Their biggest problem had been the lack of fresh clothing to change into, but the quartermaster had arranged for them to be supplied with a couple of sets of the usual, crew issue, standard, navy-blue, bell-bottom, trousers and matching jerseys.

The most difficult part about sharing the cabin would be the antipathy he could sense from Marshall North, and was sorry that the truth had come out the way it had. He would have liked to have talked to him privately first but his hand had been forced by circumstances.

On entering the cabin Marshall went over to the bunk beds and placed his elbows on the top one. He laid his head on them and looked in the direction of the porthole. He was cutting Artie out and, at the same time, gaining a chance to think about recent developments. Artie was the one to break the silence.

"Marsh, we have to talk," he said.

"Only my friends get to call me that, Mister Gordon," was the reply.

Artie looked down at his feet and then back at Marsh. "I'm sorry, Marshall," he said. "We're going to have to share this cabin for the next few weeks and it's going to be very uncomfortable if we're not talking to each other. I know you don't like me at the moment but please speak to me, even if it's just to let me know what you think of me."

Marsh turned his head in Artie's direction and it was obvious that he was both upset and angry. "What have you done with Sam?" he asked.

Artie turned away from the other man's gaze. "He's being kept under lock and key in Washington," he said. "But I made a deal with my superior that he would only be charged with theft and not counterfeiting," he added.

"How benevolent, considering he and I had nothing to do with the theft of the plates."

"I didn't know that then," Artie said, turning to face him.

"How come you look so much like him anyway? Did they alter your face or what?"

"I'm Sam's twin brother," Artie admitted. "His real name is Adolphus Gordon."

Marsh whirled round and faced him with a shocked expression on his face. "You have a brilliant brother like Sam and you turned him in for the sake of your job?" he asked, incredulously.

"It wasn't like that," Artie tried to explain. "He was already in custody when they brought me in. I only agreed to impersonate him to get the plates back and make sure he got a lesser sentence."

"If you're his twin brother, how come he never said anything about you?"

"We hadn't seen each other for forty years. I thought he was dead but I just found out he was kidnapped by the Treadwells and they brought him up with the name Samuel. I fully intend to get to know him better, once this is over."

Marsh sank down onto the lower bunk and sat with his hands between his knees. "Do you know, I'd have given a lot to have Sam as my brother instead of the one nature saddled me with? Morgan and I were rivals almost from the moment we could walk and talk. He seemed to resent me from the word go and we never had the sort of bond that twins should have. I guess the same was true of you and Sam, though for a different reason."

"I thought Adolphus was a criminal but, now I've come to know you, I find it hard to believe. Are you really the Magpie, and did you really steal all those gems?"

"Yes, I stupidly gave myself that nickname. I thought it would make my robberies more mysterious but they were quite ordinary really. But I never stole anything from an innocent or upright citizen. My targets were the men whose fortunes were founded on slavery, extortion, land-grabbing, and the like. They trod down the little man, wielded their power selfishly and never did an honest day's work in their lives. They deserved it and I benefited from it. Oh, I gave some money away to people who needed, but Sam and I kept enough to be able to achieve our plans for the future. I couldn't have done it without his talent with disguises."

"What plans were those?"

"We were going to leave America and go abroad, to England, as a matter of fact, isn't that ironic? Then Morgan came back into my life. He stole those treasury plates and made people think it was the work of the Magpie. I couldn't let him get away with it, so Sam and I decided to get the plates back. We knew it would be dangerous; you've met my brother so you know what he's like. But we had to try. I guessed he'd be holed up at our old home, so that's where we headed, only it turned out to be you, not Sam. Did you really get word to Washington in time to stop him?"

"Yes, they're very skilled at what they do, they'll have shut down his operation by now and have him in custody. I used the excuse of sending a telegram to Kate in order to have the chance of tipping them off."

"At least you treated her right, I can see that now. You must have thought it very amusing when I told you off for not having sex with her."

"No, actually I found it very touching that someone could have a friend like that, who would take such an interest in his martial bliss." Artie couldn't help but smile at that. "Mind you, I was a little angry with you for making me feel in the wrong when I was in such an invidious position."

"I could tell," Marsh replied. He sighed. "Where do we go from here?" he asked. "Are you going to arrest me and drag me back to Washington?"

"I'm not sure I'd have any jurisdiction where we're going and it might take a while to arrange for your extradition to America. On top of that, I told the Captain that we were working together so he has no interest in holding you. Word of what happened to us won't reach our embassy until the next ship from America arrives, so it looks like you're free and clear, to all intents and purposes."

Marsh smiled but then it faded as he remembered his friend. "I can't leave Sam to face things alone," he said, "and what on earth am I going to tell Kate? She'll never forgive me if Sam goes to prison. Then there's Clara. We love each other. There's no way I'm prepared to live on the other side of the ocean from her. I'll have to go back."

"Don't be too hasty," Artie told him. "The first thing is to get you to England and then we can sort things out. There's nothing we can do for the next few weeks. So let's just take the opportunity to recover from our ordeal. I don't know about you, but my head is still aching fit to burst."

"True, I could do with a good lie down. I'll take the top bunk, old man."

"My ageing body thanks you, Marshall."

"Call me Marsh."

"Call me Artie."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo