«Have the kindness to show me the way,» I said.
«Geez, the lootenant-governor,» he said, and began to shake his stomach. His small eyes disappeared in folds of yellow fat. «O.K., bud. Follow on.»
We went into the gloomy depths of the back hall and came to a wooden door at the end with a closed wooden transom above it. The fat man smote the door with a fat hand. Nothing happened.
«Out,» he said.
«Have the kindness to unlock the door,» I said. «I wish to go in and wait for Eichelberger.»
«In a pig’s valise,» the fat man said nastily, «Who the hell you think you are, bum?»
This angered me. He was a fair-sized man, about six feet tall, but too full of the memories of beer. I looked up and down the dark hall. The place seemed utterly deserted.
I hit the fat man in the stomach.
He sat down on the floor and belched and his right kneecap came into sharp contact with his jaw. He coughed and tears welled up in his eyes.
«Cripes, bud,» he whined. «You got twenty years on me. That ain’t fair.»
«Open the door,» I said. «I have no time to argue with you.»
«A buck,» he said, wiping his eyes on his shirt. «Two bucks and no tip-off.»
I took two dollars out of my pocket and helped the man to his feet. He folded the two dollars and produced an ordinary passkey which I could have purchased for five cents.
«Brother, you sock,» he said. «Where you learn it? Most big guys are muscle-bound.» He unlocked the door.
«If you hear any noises later on,» I said, «ignore them. If there is any damage, it will be paid for generously.»
He nodded and I went into the room. He locked the door behind me and his steps receded. There was silence.
The room was small, mean and tawdry. It contained a brown chest of drawers with a small mirror hanging over it, a straight wooden chair, a wooden rocking chair, a single bed of chipped enamel, with a much mended cotton counterpane. The curtains at the single window had fly marks on them and the green shade was without a slat at the bottom. There was a wash bowl in the corner with two paper-thin towels hanging beside it. There was, of course, no bathroom, and there was no closet. A piece of dark figured material hanging from a shelf made a substitute for the latter. Behind this I found a gray business suit of the largest size made, which would be my size, if I wore ready-made clothes, which I do not. There was a pair of black brogues on the floor, size number twelve at least. There was also a cheap fiber suitcase, which of course I searched, as it was not locked.
I also searched the bureau and was surprised to find that everything in it was neat and clean and decent. But there was not much in it. Particularly there were no pearls in it. I searched in all other likely and unlikely places in the room but I found nothing of interest.
I sat on the side of the bed and lit a cigarette and waited. It was now apparent to me that Henry Eichelberger was either a very great fool or entirely innocent. The room and the open trail he had left behind him did not suggest a man dealing in operations like stealing pearl necklaces.
I had smoked four cigarettes, more than I usually smoke in an entire day, when approaching steps sounded. They were light quick steps but not at all clandestine. A key was thrust into the door and turned and the door swung carelessly open. A man stepped through it and looked at me.
I am six feet three inches in height and weigh over two hundred pounds. This man was tall, but he seemed lighter. He wore a blue serge suit of the kind which is called neat for lack of anything better to say about it. He had thick wiry blond hair, a neck like a Prussian corporal in a cartoon, very wide shoulders and large hard hands, and he had a face that had taken much battering in its time. His small greenish eyes glinted at me with what I then took to be evil humor. I saw at once that he was not a man to trifle with, but I was not afraid of him. I was his equal in size and strength, and, I had small doubt, his superior in intelligence.
I stood up off the bed calmly and said: «I am looking for one Eichelberger.»
«How you get in here, bud?» It was a cheerful voice, rather heavy, but not unpleasant to the ear.
«The explanation of that can wait,» I said stiffly. «I am looking for one Eichelberger. Are you he?»
«Haw,» the man said. «A gut-buster. A comedian. Wait’ll I loosen my belt.» He took a couple of steps farther into the room and I took the same number towards him.
«My name is Walter Gage,» I said. «Are you Eichelberger?»
«Gimme a nickel,» he said, «and I’ll tell you.»
I ignored that. «I am the fiancé of Miss Ellen Macintosh,» I told him coldly. «I am informed that you tried to kiss her.»
He took another step towards me and I another towards him. «Whaddaya mean — tried?» he sneered.
I led sharply with my right and it landed flush on his chin. It seemed to me a good solid punch, but it scarcely moved him. I then put two hard left jabs into his neck and landed a second hard right at the side of his rather wide nose. He snorted and hit me in the solar plexus.
I bent over and took hold of the room with both hands and spun it. When I had it nicely spinning I gave it a full swing and hit myself on the back of the head with the floor. This made me lose my balance temporarily and while I was thinking about how to regain it a wet towel began to slap at my face and I opened my eyes. The face of Henry Eichelberger was close to mine and bore a certain appearance of solicitude.
«Bud,» his voice said, «your stomach is as weak as a Chinaman’s tea.»
«Brandy!» I croaked. «What happened?»
«You tripped on a little tear in the carpet, bud. You really got to have liquor?»
«Brandy,» I croaked again, and closed my eyes.
«I hope it don’t get me started,» his voice said.
A door opened and closed. I lay motionless and tried to avoid being sick at my stomach. The time passed slowly, in a long gray veil. Then the door of the room opened and closed once more and a moment later something hard was being pressed against my lips. I opened my mouth and liquor poured down my throat. I coughed, but the fiery liquid coursed through my veins and strengthened me at once. I sat up.
«Thank you, Henry,» I said. «May I call you Henry?»
«No tax on it, bud.»
I got to my feet and stood before him. He stared at me curiously. «You look O.K.,» he said. «Why’n’t you told me you was sick?»
«Damn you, Eichelberger!» I said and hit with all my strength on the side of his jaw. He shook his head and his eyes seemed annoyed. I delivered three more punches to his face and jaw while he was still shaking his head.
«So you wanta play for keeps!» he yelled and took hold of the bed and threw it at me.
I dodged the corner of the bed, but in doing so I moved a little too quickly and lost my balance and pushed my head about four inches into the baseboard under the window.
A wet towel began to slap at my face. I opened my eyes.
«Listen, kid. You got two strikes and no balls on you. Maybe you oughta try a lighter bat.»
«Brandy,» I croaked.
«You’ll take rye.» He pressed a glass against my lips and I drank thirstily. Then I climbed to my feet again.
The bed, to my astonishment, had not moved. I sat down on it and Henry Eichelberger sat down beside me and patted my shoulder.
«You and me could get along,» he said. «I never kissed your girl, although I ain’t saying I wouldn’t like to. Is that all is worrying at you?»
He poured himself half a waterglassful of the whiskey out of the pint bottle which he had gone out to buy. He swallowed the liquor thoughtfully.
«No, there is another matter,» I said.