“Nothing.” But the doctor softened the refusal by smiling.
“For the sake of the girl. Well, I don’t blame you on that ground. If the boy was legging it alone....”
“I’m a doctor. I took him out of the hands of death. Unless he has killed someone. I sha’n’t utter a word.”
“Killed someone?” O’Higgins laughed. “He wouldn’t hurt a rabbit.”
“You won’t tell me what he has done?”
“If you’ll tell me where he’s heading.”
“You can give me a little of his history, can’t you? Something about his people?”
“Oh, his folks were all right. His father and mother are gone now. Rich folks, once. The boy had all kinds of opportunity; but it’s the old story of father making it too easy. It’s always hard work for a rich man’s son to stand alone. Then you won’t tell me where he’s going?”
“I will tell you six months from now.”
“Prolonging the misery. Unless he deserts the girl, he won’t be so hard to find as formerly. You see, it’s like this. The boss says to me: ’Higg, here’s a guy we want back. He’s down in Patagonia somewhere.’ So I go to Patagonia. I know South America and Canada like the lines in my hand. This is my first venture over here. The point is, I know all the tricks in finding a man. Sure, I lose one occasionally—if he stays in New York. But if he starts a long jog, his name is Dennis. You may not know it, but it’s easier to find a guy that’s gone far than it is when he lays dogo in little old New York.”
“You had Spurlock once.”
O’Higgins grinned. “Women are always balling up and muddling clean cases. If this girl hadn’t busted into the game, Spurlock would still be at the hotel.”
The doctor was forced to admit the truth of this. Ruth out of the picture, he wouldn’t have concerned himself so eagerly in regard to Spurlock’s departure.
“I’m sorry, Mr. O’Higgins, but I decline to give you the least information.”
The detective ruefully inspected the scarlet band on his perfecto. “And I’ll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. Well-born, well-educated; those are the lads that pay in full.”
“You’re a philosopher, too. I’ll tell you something. One of the reasons why I decline to talk is this: that boy’s punishment will be enough.”
“That’s not my game. They order me to get my man, and I get him. There ends my duty. What they do with him afterward is off my ticket, no concern of James Boyle; they can lock him up or let him go. Say, how about this Ah Cum: is he honest?”
“As the day is long.”
“Didn’t know but what I’d been out-bid. I offered him a hundred to watch Spurlock. Fifty in advance. This morning I met him at the dock, and he wouldn’t take the other fifty. A queer nut. Imagine any one on this side refusing fifty bucks! Well, I’ll be toddling along. Don’t feel fussed upon my account. I get your side all right. H’m!”