Sword in Sheath by Andre Norton
“Kane, Mamsaki!” Lorens was hailing them. Reluctantly the two Americans joined the other group in time to hear van Bleeker say, “So already the government is cutting in? Very well, let them take the prisoners — as for this loot — perhaps the laws of salvage may apply — ”
Abdul Hakroun laughed. “Oh, there will be some compensation for our efforts, my friend, never fear. Does not your own ‘Book of Books’ say that ‘the laborer is worthy of his hire’?”
“What’s up?” Kane asked Lorens.
“A radio message has come from Besi — a destroyer put in there and heard our earlier message. She is sailing to us now.”
“She’ll be useful for rounding up pirate ships homeward bound,” Sam pointed out. “Only I foresee a lot of snooping around and questions being asked. Somehow I don’t think that these little private wars are welcomed by the authorities. Also, what about that collection of sparklers you’re nursing? Aren’t they part of the loot?”
“The best part, perhaps. The European pieces were probably a collection made by the Nazis for future insurance. It must go back to Europe where it can be identified. And what about those papers you were so quick to impound?”
Kane grinned. “Oh, we have someone who will be only too, too pleased to receive them as a coming-home present. This sort of thing is his favorite reading matter.”
“You’d better prepare to face a battle over them,” Sam cut in. “The red tape artists all like to prove that they can read. Only, I don’t want to face old Ironjaw without some little token of my esteem. His feelings are apt to be hurt — he’s rather touchy.”
Abdul Hakroun was inspecting the loot with a jealous eye, his Moros unpacking box and bale to view their contents. The Sumba’s men drifted unostentatiously off on side expeditions of their own which no one was untactful enough to question. So it came about that there were just Hakroun, van Bleeker, Lorens, and the Americans gathered in the cave. The Moro leader glanced around before he spoke in a low voice.
“I am a man of business, Capt. van Bleeker. And soon, when our naval friends arrive, we shall be occupied by great affairs and will have no time to speak of such matters. Therefore let us now deal with the problem of the pearl beds — ”
Van Bleeker struck a match to light a cigarette. His eyes were half closed, he had a lazy contented look about him. Only Kane, having seen him at trading before, mistrusted that pose.
“You propose?” The captain of the Sumba was almost indifferent.
“I propose to found a company to work together as good friends — even as we fought together to clear this place of stinking vermin. I have the divers to pluck the beds, you have an excellent supply ship, and you, Tuan,” the Moro nodded to Lorens, “have a place in the market in which we must sell our wares. So let us work as one — we are all honest men.” His eyes held laughter, and Lorens’ smile answered it
“I have heard many things of you, Abdul Hakroun,” the Netherlander returned frankly. “But also I have been told that if you once give your word you hold to it against all the world.”
Hakroun tugged at his beard. “A merchant hopes for a bargain — that is his due. But between friends there is no bargain. Shall I swear it upon the Word of the Prophet?”
The two Netherlanders exchanged a swift glance. Van Bleeker snapped the ash off his cigarette.
“Three ways we divide?” he asked.
“If you wish. But there is the custom of your own people. Why not divide into many pieces — stock as you would call it.”
Sam chuckled. “Stock in a pearl bed? How about it, Watson? That sound good to you?”
“Let it be that way.” Van Bleeker ground out his cigarette. “We split the stock three ways, and each then decides who he will share with.”
“But it does not go beyond this present company!” Hakroun warned.
“That is understood,” Lorens agreed. “Let us have a hundred shares. One to go to the head of these cave people, thirty-three to each of us. Then — ”
“Not more than five altogether for us — how about it, boys?” Kane asked his countrymen.
“Okay. After all, we more or less came along for the ride,” Sam returned.
“Geez!” Watson pulled himself up. “Do I rate an in on this too?”
“Well, you found Capt. van Bleeker’s back door for him,” Kane reminded him.
The captain of the Sumba had been writing on a page torn from his pocket notebook and now he made a copy of his work and passed them both around the group for signatures. One he kept, and one he handed to Hakroun.
“How soon does the business start humming?” Sam wanted to know.
“Tomorrow — or after the government ship has gone,” Hakroun answered. “My divers are aboard my ship. Already they look for a place to build their village here — ”
“All’s well that ends well — or has that been said before?” Sam stretched his arms wide over his head. “Just think, brother, we’re now regular, dyed-in-the-wool — or maybe soaked-in-the-water — pearl fishermen. Wonder what Ironjaw will have to comment on that. Of course, there was absolutely nothing said in San Francisco against side line projects — ”
“If we put this on his desk he’ll forget all about us.” Kane picked up the briefcase. “And if, before we face out of his life, we are able to offer him Baumer on toast he may even love us — ”
Sam managed a very realistic shudder of abhorrence. “What a beastly idea. But I don’t doubt that there will be dancing and feasting the halls occupied by the High Intelligence when we are able to report. Only then we shall be the forgotten men.”
“Well, then we can come back here and be stockholders protecting our interests. How about it, Lorens, can you use a couple of good inside or outside men? We can bring testimonials — I think.”
“Whenever you wish to come, you shall be welcome — and there will be work to do.”
Kane sobered. “D’you know, I think that you mean that!”
“But naturally. Do you think that this affair is the end of all our journeying? No, we are but beginning. For you there can be beginnings too.”
“That we shall keep in mind — for reference if Ironjaw is not in the best of moods.” Sam caught up the offer with his usual lightness. “What about you, Watson? Does Stateside have any appeal?”
“Does it!” The light which came into the thin face of the gunner made the force of his answer double. “Lordy, fellas, when do we sail?”
“After the red tape merchants have had their way with us probably. You know” — Sam ran his fingers through the thick waves of his hair — “there’s only one loose end which we can’t tuck neatly into the pattern.”
“And that?” asked Kane.
“What were those Johnnies looking for — the ones who made hay of our stuff back in Manila?”
“The answer to that quiz question is easy.” Kane slung his gun over his shoulder and tied the briefcase to his belt with his handkerchief. “They were probably looking for two other guys — ”
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1977 by Andre Norton
ISBN: 978-1-4976-5681-9
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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Andre Norton, Sword in Sheath