THE UNSPEAKABLE PERK

BY SAMUEL HOPKINS ADAMS

CONTENTS

 I. MR. BEETLE MAN II. AT THE KAST III. THE BETTER PART OF VALOR IV. TWO ON A MOUNTAIN-SIDE V. AN UPHOLDER OF TRADITIONS VI. FORKED TONGUES VII. "THAT WHICH THY SERVANT IS--"VIII. LOS YANKIS IX. THE BLACK WARNING X. THE FOLLY OF PERK XI. PRESTO CHANGE! XII. THE WOMAN AT THE QUINTAXIII. LEFT BEHIND XIV. THE YELLOW FLAG

THE UNSPEAKABLE PERK

I

MR. BEETLE MAN

The man sat in a niche of the mountain, busily hating theCaribbean Sea. It was quite a contract that he had undertaken, forthere was a large expanse of Caribbean Sea in sight to hate; veryblue, and still, and indifferent to human emotions. However, theyoung man was a good steadfast hater, and he came there every dayto sit in the shade of the overhanging boulder, where there was alittle trickle of cool air down the slope and a little trickle ofcool water from a crevice beneath the rock, to despise thatplacid, unimpressionable ocean and all its works and to wish thatit would dry up forthwith, so that he might walk back to theblessed United States of America. In good plain American, theyoung man was pretty homesick. 

Two-man's-lengths up the mountain, on the crest of the sturdyhater's rock, the girl sat, loving the Caribbean Sea. Hers, also, was a large contract, and she was much newer to it than was theman to his, for she had only just discovered this vantage-groundby turning accidentally into a side trail--quite a private littleside trail made by her unsuspected neighbor below--whence oneemerges from a sea of verdure into full view of the sea of azure. For the time, she was content to rest there in the flow of thebreeze and feast her eyes on that broad, unending blue whichblessedly separated her from the United States of America andcertain perplexities and complications comprised therein. Presently she would resume the trail and return to the city ofCaracuna, somewhere behind her. That is, she would if she couldfind it, which was by no means certain. Not that she greatlycared. If she were really lost, they'd come out and get her. Meantime, all she wished was to rest mind and body in thecontemplation of that restful plain of cool sapphire, fourthousand feet below. 

But there was a spirit of mischief abroad upon that mountainslope. It embodied itself in a puff of wind that stirredgratefully the curls above the girl's brow. Also, it fanned theneck of the watcher below and cunningly moved his hat from hisside; not more than a few feet, indeed, but still far enough totransfer it from the shade into the glaring sun and into the viewof the girl above. The owner made no move. If the wind wanted toblow his new panama into some lower treetop, compelling him tothrow stones, perhaps to its permanent damage, in order todislodge it, why, that was just one more cause of offense to pinto his indictment of irritation against the great island republicof Caracuna. Such is the temper one gets into after a year in thetropics. 

Like as peas are panama hats to the eyes of the inexpert; far morelike than men who live under them. For the girl, it was a directinference that this was a hat which she knew intimately; which, indeed, she had rather maliciously eluded, riot half an hourbefore. Therefore, she addressed it familiarly: "Boo!"

The result of this simple monosyllable exceeded her fondestexpectations. There was a sharp exclamation of surprise, followedby a cry that might have meant dismay or wrath or both, assomething metallic tinkled and slid, presently coming to a stopbeside the hat, where it revealed itself as a pair of enormous, aluminum-mounted brown-green spectacles. After it, on all fours, scrambled the owner. 

Shock number one: It wasn't the man at all! Instead of the black-haired, flanneled, slender Adonis whom the trouble-makerconfidently assumed to have been under that hat, she beheld abrownish-clad, stocky figure with a very blond head. 

Shock number two: The figure was groping lamentably and blindly inthe undergrowth, and when, for an instant, the face was turnedhalf toward her, she saw that the eyes were squinted tight-closed, with a painful extreme of muscular tension about them. 

Presently one of the ranging hands encountered the spectacles, andsettled upon them. With careful touches, it felt them all over. Amild grunt, presumably of satisfaction, made itself heard, and thefigure got to its feet. But before the face turned again, the girlhad stepped back, out of range. 

Silence, above and below; a silence the long persistence of whichcame near to constituting shock number three. What sort of hermithad she intruded upon? Into what manner of remote Brahministiccontemplation had she injected that impertinent "Boo!"? Who, what, how, why--

"Say it again. " The request came from under the rock. Evidentlythe spectacled owner had resumed his original situation. 

"Say WHAT again?" she inquired. 

"Anything, " returned the voice, with child-like content. 

"Oh, I--I hope you didn't break your glasses. "

"No; you didn't. "

On consideration, she decided to ignore this prompt countering ofthe pronoun. 

"I thought you were some one else, " she observed. 

"Well, so I am, am I not?"

"So you are what?"

"Some one else than you thought. "

"Why, yes, I suppose--But I meant some one else besides yourself. "

"I only wish I were. "

"Why?" she asked, intrigued by the fervid inflection of the wish. 

"Because then I'd be somewhere else than in this infernal hell-hole of a black-and-tan nursery of revolution, fever, andtrouble!"

"I think it one of the loveliest spots I've ever seen, " said sheloftily. 

"How long have you been here?"

"On this rock? Perhaps five minutes. "

"Not on the rock. In Caracuna?"

"Quite a long time. Nearly a fortnight. "

The commentary on this was so indefinite that she was moved toinquire:--

"Is that a local dialect you're speaking?"

"No; that was a grunt. "

"I don't think it was a very polite grunt, even as grunts go. "

"Perhaps not. I'm afraid I'm out of the habit. "

"Of grunting? You seem expert enough to satisfy--"

"No; of being polite. I'll apologize if--if you'll only go ontalking. "

She laughed aloud. 

"Or laughing, " he amended promptly. "Do it again. "

"One can't laugh to order!" she protested; "or even talk to order. But why do you stay 'way out here in the mountains if you're soeager to hear the human voice?"

"The human voice be--choked! It's YOUR human voice I want to hear--your kind of human voice, I mean. " "I don't know that my kind ofhuman voice is particularly different from plenty of other humanvoices, " she observed, with an effect of fine impartial judgment. 

"It's widely different from the kind that afflicts the sufferingear in this part of the world. Fourteen months ago I heard thelast American girl speak the last American-girl language that'scome within reach of me. Oh, no, --there WAS one, since, but sherasped like a rheumatic phonograph and had brick-coloredfreckles. Have you got brick-colored freckles?"

"Stand up and see. "

"No, SIR!--that is, ma'am. Too much risk. "

"Risk! Of what?"

"Freckles. I don't like freckles. Not on YOUR voice, anyway. "

"On my VOICE? Are you--"

"Of course I am--a little. Any one is who stays down here morethan a year. But that about the voice and the freckles was saneenough. What I'm trying to say--and you might know it without adiagram--is that, from your voice, you ought to be all that a mandreams of when--well, when he hasn't seen a real American girl foran eternity. Now I can sit here and dream of you as the loveliestprincess that ever came and went and left a memory of gold andblue in the heart of--"

"I'm not gold and blue!"

"Of course you're not. But your speech is. I'll be wise, andcontent myself with that. One look might pull down, In irrevocableruin, all the lovely fabric of my dream. By the way, are you aCookie?"

"A WHAT?"

"Cookie. Tourist. No, of course you're not. No tour would beimbecile enough to touch here. The question is: How did you gethere?"

"Ah, that's my secret. "

"Or, rather, are you here at all? Perhaps you're just a figment ofthe overstrained ear. And if I undertook to look, there wouldn'tbe anything there at all. "

"Of course, if you don't believe in me, I'll fly away on asunbeam. "

"Oh, please! Don't say that! I'm doing my best. "

So panic-stricken was the appeal that she laughed again, in spiteof herself. 

"Ah, that's better! Now, come, be honest with me. You're notpretty, are you?"

"Me? I'm as lovely as the dawn. "

"So far, so good. And have you got long golden--that is to say, silken hair that floats almost to your knees?"

"Certainly, " she replied, with spirit. 

"Is it plentiful enough so that you could spare a little?"

"Are you asking me for a lock of my hair?" she queried, on a noteof mirth. "For a stranger, you go fast. "

"No; oh, no!" he protested. "Nothing so familiar. I'm offering youa bribe for conversation at the price of, say, five hairs, if youcan sacrifice so many. "

"It sounds delightfully like voodoo, " she observed. "What must Ido with them?"

"First, catch your hair. Well up toward the head, please. Now pullit out. One, two, three--yank!"

"Ouch!" said the voice above. 

"Do it again. Now have you got two?"

"Yes. "

"Knot them together. "

There was a period of silence. 

"It's very difficult, " complained the girl. 

"Because you're doing it in silence. There must be sprightlyconversation or the charm won't work. Talk!"

"What about?"

"Tell me who you thought I was when you said, 'Boo!' at me. "

"A goose. "

"A--a GOOSE! Why--what--"

"Doesn't one proverbially say 'Boo!' to a goose?" she remarkeddemurely. 

"If one has the courage. Now, I haven't. I'm shy. "

"Shy! You?" Again the delicious trill of her mirth rang in hisears. "I should imagine that to be the least of your troubles. "

"No! Truly. " There was real and anxious earnestness in hisassurance. "It's because I don't see you. If I were face to facewith you, I'd stammer and get red and make a regular imbecile ofmyself. Another reason why I stick down here and decline to yieldto temptation. "

"O wise young man! ARE you young? Ouch!"

"Reasonably. Was that the last hair?"

"Positively! I'm scalped. You're a red Indian. "

"Tie it on. Now, fasten a hairpin on the end and let it down. Allright. I've got it. Wait!" The fragile line of communicationtwitched for a moment. "Haul, now. Gently!"

Up came the thread, and, as its burden rose over the face of therock, the girl gave a little cry of delight:--

"How exquisite! Orchids, aren't they?"

"Yes, the golden-brown bee orchid. Just your coloring. "

"So it is. How do you know?" she asked, startled. 

"From the hair. And your eyes have gold flashes in the brown whenthe sun touches them. "

"Your wits are YOUR eyes. But where do you get such orchids?"

"From my little private garden underneath the rock. "

"Life will be a dull and dreary round unless I see that garden. "

"No! I say! Wait! Really, now, Miss--er--" There was panic in theprotest. 

"Oh, don't be afraid. I'm only playing with your fears. One lookat you as you chased your absurd spectacles was enough to satisfymy curiosity. Go in peace, startled fawn that you are. "

"Go nothing! I'm not going. Neither are you, I hope, until you'vetold me lots more about yourself. "

"All that for a spray of orchids?"

"But they are quite rare ones. "

"And very lovely. "

The girl mused, and a sudden impulse seized her to take the unseenacquaintance at his word and free her mind as she had not beenable to do to any living soul for long weeks. She pondered overit. 

"You aren't getting ready to go?" he cried, alarmed at her longsilence. 

"No; I'm thinking. "

"Please think aloud. "

"I was thinking--suppose I did. "

There was so much of weighty consideration in her accents that theother fear again beset him. 

"Did what? Not come down from the rock?" "Be calm. I shouldn'twant to face you any more than you want to face me, if I decidedto do it. "

"Go on, " he encouraged. "It sounds most promising. "

"More than that. It's fairly thrilling. It's the awful secret ofmy life that I'm considering laying bare to you, just like a dimenovel. Are you discreet?"

"As the eternal rocks. Prescribe any form of oath and I'll takeit. "

"I'm feeling just irresponsible enough to venture. Now, if I knewyou, of course I couldn't. But as I shall never set eyes on youagain--I never shall, shall I?"

"Not unless you creep up on me unawares. "

"Then I'll unburden my overweighted heart, and you can be my augurand advise me with supernatural wisdom. Are you up to that?"

"Try me. "

"I will. But, remember: this means truly that we are never tomeet. And if you ever do meet me and recognize my voice, you mustgo away at once. "

"Agreed, " he said cheerfully, just a bit too cheerfully to beflattering. 

"Very well, then. I'm a runaway. "

"From where?"

"Home. "

"Naturally. Where's home?"

"Utica, New York, " she specified. 

"U. S. A. , " he concluded, with a sigh. "What did you run away from?"

"Trouble. "

"Does any one ever run away from anything else?" he inquiredphilosophically. "What particular brand?"

"Three men, " she said dolorously. "All after poor little me. Theyall thought I ought to marry them, and everybody else seemed tothink so, too--"

"Go slow! Did you say Utica or Utah?"

"Everybody thought I ought to marry one or the other of 'em, Imean. If I could have married them all, now, it might have beeneasier, for I like them ever so much. But how could I make up mymind? So I just seized papa around the neck and ran away with himdown here. "

"Why here, of all places on earth?"

"Oh, he's interested in some mines and concessions and things. It's very beautiful, but I almost wish I'd stayed at home andmarried Bobby. "

"Which is Bobby?"

"He's one of the home boys. We've grown up together, and I'm sofond of him. Only it's more the brother-and-sister sort of thing, if he'd let it be. "

"Check off No. 1. What's No. 2?"

"Lots older. Mr. Thomas Murray Smith is an unspoiled millionaire. If he weren't so serious and quite so dangerously near forty--well, I don't know. "

"Have you kept No. 3 for the last because he's the best?"

"No-o-o-o. Because he's the nearest. He followed me down. You cansee his name in all its luster on the Hotel Kast register, whenyou get back to the city--Preston Fairfax Fitzhugh Carroll, atyour service. "

"Sounds Southern, " commented the man below. 

"Southern! He's more Southern than the South Pole. His ancestorsfought all the wars and owned all the negroes--he calls them'niggers'--and married into all the first families of Virginia, and all that sort of thing. He must quite hate himself, poor Fitz, for falling in love with a little Yankee like me. In fact, that'swhy I made him do it. "

"And now you wish he hadn't?"

"Oh--well--I don't know. He's awfully good-looking and gallant anddevoted and all that. Only he's such a prickly sort of person. I'dhave to spend the rest of my life keeping him and his pride out oftrouble. And I've no taste for diplomacy. Why, only last week hedeclined to dine with the President of the Republic because someone said that his excellency had a touch of the tar brush. "

"He'd better get out of this country before that gets back toheadquarters. "

"If he thought there was danger, he'd stay forever. I don'tsuppose Fitz is afraid of anything on earth. Except perhaps ofme, " she added after-thoughtfully. 

"Young woman, you're a shameless flirt!" accused the invisible onein stern tones. 

"If I am, it isn't going to hurt you. Besides, I'm not. And, anyway, who are you to judge me? You're not here as a judge;you're an augur. Now, go on and aug. "

"Aug?" repeated the other hesitantly. 

"Certainly. Do an augury. Tell me which. "

"Oh! As for that, it's easy. None. "

"Why not?"

"Because I much prefer to think of you, when you are gone, asunmarried. It's more in character with your voice. "

"Well, of all the selfish pigs! Condemned to be an old maid, inorder not to spoil an ideal! Perhaps you'd like to enter the listsyourself, " she taunted. 

"Good Heavens, no!" he cried in the most unflattering alarm. "Itisn't in my line--I mean I haven't time for that sort of thing. I'm a very busy man. "

"You look it! Or you did look it, scrambling about like a doodlebug after your absurd spectacles. "

"There is no such insect as a doodle bug. "

"Isn't there? How do you know? Are you personally acquainted withall the insect families?"

"Certainly. That's my business. I'm a scientist. "

"Oh, gracious! And I've appealed to you in a matter of sentiment!I might better have stuck to Fitz. Poor Fitz! I wonder if he'slost. "

"Why should he be lost?"

"Because I lost him. Back there on the trail. Purposely. I senthim for water and then--I skipped. "

"Oh-h-h! Then HE'S the goose. "

"Goose! Preston Fairfax Fitz--"

"Yes, the goose you said 'Boo!' to, you know. "

"Of course. You didn't steal his hat, did you?"

"No. It's my own hat. Why did you run away from him?"

"He bored me. When people bore me, I always run away. I'mbeginning to feel quite fugitive this very minute. "

There was silence below, a silence that piqued the girl. 

"Well, " she challenged, "haven't you anything to say before thecourt passes sentence of abandonment to your fate?"

"I'm thinking--frantically. But the thoughts aren't girl thoughts. I mean, they wouldn't interest you. I might tell you about some ofmy insects, " he added hopefully. 

"Heaven forbid!"

"They're very interesting. "

"No. You're worthless as an augur, and a flat failure as aconversationalist, when thrown on your own resources. So I shallshake the dust from my feet and depart. "

"Good-bye!" he said desolately. "And thank you. "

"For what?"

"For making music in my desert. "

"That's much better, " she approved. "But you've paid your scorewith the orchids. If you have one or two more pretty speeches likethat in stock, I might linger for a while. "

"I'm afraid I'm all out of those, " he returned. "But, " he addeddesperately, "there's the hexagonal scarab beetle. He's awfullyqueer and of much older family even than Mr. Fitzwhizzle's. It isthe hexagonal scarab's habit when dis--"

"We have an encyclopaedia of our own at home, " she interruptedcoldly. "I didn't climb this mountain to talk about beetles. "

"Well, I'll talk some more about you, if you'll give me a littletime to think. "

"I think you are very impertinent. I don't wish to talk aboutmyself. Just because I asked your advice in my difficulties, youassume that I'm a little egoist--"

"Oh, please don't--"

"Don't interrupt. I'm very much offended, and I'm glad we arenever going to meet. Just as I was beginning to like you, too, "she added, with malice. "Good-bye!"

"Good-bye, " he answered mournfully. 

But his attentive ears failed to discern the sound of departingfootsteps. The breeze whispered in the tree-tops. A sulphur-yellowbird, of French extraction, perched in a flowering bush, insistently demanded: "Qu'est-ce qu'il dit? Qu'est-ce qu'il dit?"--What's he say? WHAT'S he say?--over and over again, becomingquite wrathful because neither he nor any one else offered theslightest reply or explanation. The girl sympathized with thebird. If the particular he whose blond top she could barely see bypeeping over the rock would only say something, matters would beeasier for her. But he didn't. So presently, in a voice ofsuspiciously saccharine meekness, she said:--

"Please, Mr. Beetle Man, I'm lost. "

"No, you're not, " he said reassuringly. "You're not a quarter of amile from the Puerto del Norte Road. "

"But I don't know which direction--"

"Perfectly simple. Keep on over the top of the rock; turn leftdown the slope, right up the dry stream bed to a dead tree; bearright past--"

"That's too many turns, I never could remember more than two. "

"Now, listen, " he said persuasively. "I can make it quite plain toyou if--"

"I don't WISH to listen! I'll never find it. "

"I'll toss you up my compass. "

"I don't want your compass, " she said firmly. 

A long patient sigh exhaled from below. 

"Do you want me to guide you?"

"No, " she retorted, and was instantly panic-stricken, for themonosyllable was of that accent which sets fire to bridges andburns them beyond hope of return. 

Slowly she got to her feet. Perhaps she would have dared and gone;perhaps she would have swallowed pride and her negative, and madeone more appeal. She turned hesitantly and saw the devil. 

It was a small devil on stilts, not more than three or four inchestall, but there was no mistaking his identity. No other livingthing could possess such demoniac little red-hot pin points ofeyes, or be so bristly and grisly and vicious. The stilts suddenlyfolded flat, and the devil rushed upon his prey. The girl steppedback; her foot turned and caught, and--

"Of course, " the patient voice below was saying, "if you reallythink that you couldn't find the road, I could draw you a map andsend it up by the hair route. But I really think--"

"BLUMP!"

The rock had turned over on his unprotected head and flattened himout forever. Such was his first thought. When he finally collectedhimself, his eyeglasses, and his senses, he sustained a secondshock more violent than the first. 

Two paces away, the Voice, duly and most appropriately embodied, sat half-facing him. The Voice's eyes confirmed his worstsuspicions, and, dazed though they were at the moment, there weredeep lights in them that wholly disordered his mental mechanism. Nor were her first words such as to restore his derangedfaculties. 

"Oh-h! Aren't you GOGGLESOME!" she cried dizzily. 

He raised his hands to the huge brown spectacles. 

"Wh--wh--what did you come down for?" he babbled. There was adistinct note of accusation in the query. 

"COME down! I fell!"

"Yes, yes; that may be true--"

"MAY be!"

"Of course, it is true. I--I--I see it's true. I'm awfully sorry. "

"Sorry? What for?"

"That you came. That you fell, I mean to say. I--I--I don't reallyknow what I mean to say. "

"No wonder, poor boy! I landed right on you, didn't I?"

"Did you? Something did. I thought it was the mountain. "

"You aren't very complimentary, " she pouted. "But there! I daresay I knocked your thoughts all to bits. "

"No; not at all. Certainly, I mean. It doesn't matter. See here, "he said, with an injured sharpness of inquiry born of his ownexasperation at his verbal fumbling, "you said you wouldn't, andhere you are. I ask you, is that fair and honorable?"

"Well, if it comes to that, " she countered, "you promised thatyou'd never speak to me if you saw me, and here you are telling methat you don't want me around the place at all. It's very rude andinhospitable, I consider. "

"I can't help it, " he said miserably. "I'm afraid. "

"You don't look it. You look disagreeable. "

"As long as you stayed where you belonged--Excuse me--I don'tmean to be impolite--but I--I--You see--as long as you were justa voice, I could manage all right, but now that you are--er--er--you--" His speech trailed off lamentably into meaninglessstutterings. 

The girl turned amazed and amused eyes upon him. 

"What on earth ails the poor man?" she inquired of all creation. 

"I told you. I--I'm shy. "

"Not really! I thought it was a joke. "

"Qu'est-ce qu'il dit? Qu'est-ce qu'il dit?" demanded the yellow-breasted inquisitor, from his flowery perch. 

"What does he say? He says he's shy. Poor poo--er young, helplessthing!" And her laughter put to shame a palm thrush who was givingwhat he had up to that moment considered a highly creditablemusical performance. 

"All right!" he retorted warmly. "Laugh if you want to! But afterstipulating that we should be strangers, to--to act this way--well, I think it's--it's--forward. That's what I think it is. "

"Do you, indeed? Perhaps you think it's pleasant for me, afterI've opened my heart to a stranger, to have him forced on me as anacquaintance!"

From the depths of those limpid eyes welled up a little film ofvexation. 

"O Lord! Don't do that!" he implored. "I didn't mean--I'm a bear--a pig--a--a--a scarab--I'm anything you choose. Only don't dothat!"

"I'm not doing anything. "

"Of course you're not. That's fine! As for your secrets, I daresay I wouldn't know you again if I saw you. "

"Oh, wouldn't you?" she cried in quite another tone. 

"Quite likely not. These glasses, you see. They make things lookquite queer. "

"Or if you heard me?" she challenged. 

"Ah, well, that's different. But I forget quite easily--eventhings like voices. "

She leaned forward, her hands in her lap, her eyes upon thegoggled face before her. 

"Then take them off. "

"What? My glasses?"

"Take them off!"

"Wh--wh--why should I?"

"So that you can see me better. "

"I don't want to see you better. "

"Yes, you do. I'm much more interesting than a scarab. "

"But I know about scarabs and I don't know about--about--"

"Girls. So one might suspect. Do you know what I'm doing, Mr. Beetle Man?"

"N-n-no. "

"I'm flirting with you. I never flirted with a scientific personbefore. It's awfully one-sided, difficult, uphill work. "

This last was all but drowned out in his flood of panickyinstructions, from which she disentangled such phrases as "firstto left"--"dry river-bed-hundred-yards"--"dead tree--can't missit. "

"If you send me away now, I'll cry. Really, truly cry, this time. "

"No, you won't! I mean I won't! I--I'll do anything! I'll talk!I'll make conversation! How old are you? That's what the Chineseask. I used to have a Chinese cook, but he lost all my shirtstuds, playing fan-tan. Can you play fan-tan? Two can't play, though. They have funny cards in this country, like the Spanish. Have you seen a bullfight yet? Don't do it. It's dull and brutal. The bull has no more chance than--than--"

"Than an unprotected man with a conscienceless flirt, who falls onhis neck and then threatens to submerge him in tears. "

"Now you're beginning again!" he wailed. "What did you jump for, anyway?"

"I slipped. An awful, red-eyed, scrambly fiend scared me--a real, live, hairy devilkin on stilts. He ran at me across the rock. Wasthat one of your pet scarabs, Mr. Beetle Man?"

"That was a tarantula, I suppose, from the description. "

"They're deadly, aren't they?"

"Of course not. Unscientific nonsense. I'll go up and chase himoff. "

"Flying from perils that you know not of to more familiardangers?" she taunted. 

"Well, you see, with the tarantula out of the way, there's noreason why you shouldn't--er--"

"Go, and leave you in peace? What do you think of that forgallantry, Birdie?"

The gay-feathered inquisitor had come quite near. 

"Qu'est-ce qu'il dit?" he queried, cocking his curious head. 

"He says he doesn't like me one little, wee, teeny bit, and hewishes I'd go home and stay there. And so I'm going, with my poorlittle feelings all hurted and ruffled up like anything. "

"Nothing of the sort, " protested the badgered spectacle-wearer. 

"Then why such unseemly haste to make my path clear?"

"I just thought that maybe you'd go back on the top of the rock, where you came from, and--and be a voice again. If you won't go, Iwill. "

He made three jumps of it up the boulder, bearing a stick in hishand. Presently his face, preternaturally solemn and gnomishbehind the goggles, protruded over the rim. The girl was sittingwith her hands folded in her lap, contemplating the scenery as ifshe'd never had another interest in her life. Apparently she hadforgotten his very existence. 

"Ahem!" he began nervously. 

"Ahem!" she retorted so promptly that he almost fell off hisprecarious perch. "Did you ring? Number, please. "

"I wish I knew whether you were laughing at me or not, " he saidruefully. 

"When?"

"All the time. "

"I am. Your darkest suspicions are correct. Did you abolish mydevilkin?"

"I drove him back into his trapdoor home and put a rock over it. "

"Why didn't you destroy him?"

"Because I've appointed him guardian of the rock, with strictinstructions to bite any one that ever comes there after thisexcept you. "

"Bravo! You're progressing. As soon as you're free from the blightof my regard, you become quite human. But I'll never come again. "

"No, I suppose not, " he said dismally. "I shan't hear you again, unless, perhaps, the echoes have kept your voice to play with. "

"Oh, oh! Is this the language of science? You know I almost thinkI should like to come--if I could. But I can't. "

"Why not?"

"Because we leave to-morrow. "

"Not across to the southern coast? It isn't safe. Fever--"

"No; by Puerto del Norte. "

"There's no boat. "

"Yes, there is. You can just see her funnel over that white slope. It's our yacht. "

"And you think you are going in her to-morrow?"

"Think? I know it. "

"No, " he contradicted. 

"Yes, " she asserted, quite as concisely. 

"No, " he repeated. "You're mistaken. "

"Don't be absurd. Why?" "Look out there, over that tree to thehorizon. "

"I'm looking. "

"Do you see anything?"

"Yes; a sort of little smudge. "

"That's why. "

"It's a very shadowy sort of why. "

"There's substance enough under it. "

"A riddle? I'll give it up. "

"No; a bet. I'll bet you the treasures of my mountain-side. Orchids of gold and white and purple and pink, butterflies thatdart on wings of fire opal--"

"Beetles, to know which is to love them, and love but themforever, " she laughed. "And my side of the wager--what is that tobe?"

"That you will come to the rock day after to-morrow at this hourand stand on the top and be a voice again and talk to me. "

"Done! Send your treasures to the pier, for you'll surely lose. And now take me to the road. "

It was a single-file trail, and he walked in advance, silent as anIndian. As they emerged from a thicket into the highway, above thered-tiled city in its setting of emerald fields strung on thesilver thread of the Santa Clara River, she turned and gave himher hand. 

"Be at your rock to-morrow, and when you see the yacht steam out, you'll know I'll be saying good-bye, and thank you for yourmountain treasures. Send them to Miss Brewster, care of the yachtPolly. She's named after me. Is there anything the matter with myshoes?" she broke off to inquire solicitously. 

"Er--what? No. " He lifted his eyes, startled, and looked outacross the quaint old city. 

"Then is there anything the matter with my face?"

"Yes. "

"Yes? Well, what?"

"It's going to be hard to forget, " complained he of the goggles. 

"Then look away before it's too late, " she cried merrily; but hercolor deepened a little. "Good-bye, O friend of the lowly scarab!"

At the dip of the road down into the bridged arroyo, she turned, and was surprised--or at least she told herself so--to find himstill looking after her. 

II

AT THE KAST

One dines at the Gran Hotel Kast after the fashion of a champignonsous cloche. The top of the cloche is of fluted glass, with a wideaperture between it and the sides, to admit the rain in the wetseason and the flies in the dry. Three balconies run up from thedining-room well to this roof, and upon these, as near to therailings as they choose, the rather conglomerate patronage of theplace sleeps, takes baths, dresses, gossips, makes love, quarrels, and exchanges prophecies as to next Sunday's bullfight, while thediners below strive to select from the bill of fare specialmorsels upon which they will stake their internal peace for theday. No cabaret can hold a candle to it for variety of interest. When the sudden torrential storms sweep down the mountains at mealtimes, the little human champignons, beneath their insufficientcloche, rush about wildly seeking spots where the drippage willnot wash their food away. Commercial travelers of the tropics havea saying: "There are worse hotels in the world than the Kast--butwhy take the trouble?" And, year upon year, they return there forreasons connected with the other hostelries of Caracuna, which Iforbear to specify. 

To Miss Polly Brewster, the Kast was a place of romance. Fivemiles away, as the buzzard flies, she could have dined well, evenelegantly, on the Brewster yacht. Would she have done it? Not forworlds! Miss Brewster was entranced by the courtly manners of herwaiter, who had lost one ear and no small part of the countenanceadjacent thereto, only too obviously through the agency of someedged instrument not wielded in the arts of peace. She was furtherdelightedly intrigued by the abrupt appearance of a romantic-huedgentleman, who thrust out over the void from the second balcony ananguished face, one side of which was profusely lathered, andaddressed to all the hierarchy of heaven above, and the peoples ofthe earth beneath, a passionate protest upon the subject of acherished and vanished shaving brush; what time, below, the headwaiter was hastily removing from sight, though not from memory, asoup tureen whose agitated surface bore a creamy froth not of alacteal origin. One may not with impunity balance personalimplements upon the too tremulous rails of the ancient Kast. 

With an appreciative and glowing eye, Miss Brewster read from hermimeographed bill of fare such legends as "ropa con carne, ""bacalao seco, " "enchiladas, " and meantime devoured chechenaca, which, had it been translated into its just and simple English of"hash, " she would not have given to her cat. 

Nor did her visual and prandial preoccupations inhibit her from alively interest in the surrounding Babel of speech in mingledSpanish, Dutch, German, English, Italian, and French, all at thehighest pitch, for a few rods away the cathedral bells weresaluting Heaven with all the clangor and din of the other place, and only the strident of voice gained any heed in that contest. Even after the bells paused, the habit of effort kept the voicesup. Miss Brewster, dining with her father a few hours after herreturn from the mountain, absolved her conscience from any intentof eavesdropping in overhearing the talk of the table to the rightof her. The remark that first fixed her attention was in English, of the super-British patois. 

"Can't tell wot the blighter might look like behind those bloomin'brown glasses. "

"But he's not bothersome to any one, " suggested a second speaker, in a slightly foreign accent. "He regards his own affairs. "

"Right you are, bo!" approved a tall, deeply browned man ofthirty, all sinewy angles, who, from the shoulders up, suggestednothing so much as a club with a gnarled knob on the end of it, atough, reliable, hardwood club, capable of dealing a stiff blow inan honest cause. "If he deals in conversation, he must SELL it. Idon't notice him giving any of it away. "

"He gave some to Kast the last time he dined here, " observed alanguid and rather elegant elderly man, who occupied the fourthside of the table. "Mine host didn't like it. "

"I should suppose Senior Kast would be hardened, " remarked theyoung Caracunan who had defended the absent. 

"Our eyeglassed friend scored for once, though. They had justserved him the usual table-d'hote salad--you know, two leaves oflettuce with a caterpillar on one. Kast happened to be passing. Our friend beckoned him over. 'A little less of the fauna and moreof the flora, Senior Kast, ' said he in that gritty, scientificvoice of his. I really thought Kast was going to forget his Swissblood, and chase a whole peso of custom right out of the place. "

"If you ask me, I think the blighter is barmy, " asserted theBriton. 

"Well, I'll ask you, " proffered the elegant one kindly. "Why doyou consider him 'barmy, ' as you put it?"

"When I first saw him here and heard him speak to the waiter, Iknew him for an American Johnny at once, and I went, directly I'dfinished my soup, and sat down at his table. The friendly touch, y' know. 'I say, ' I said to him, 'I don't know you, but I heardyou speak, and I knew at once you were one of these Americans--tell you at once by the beastly queer accent, you know. You are anAmerican, ay--wot?' Wot d' you suppose the blighter said? Hesaid, 'No, I'm an ichthyo'--somethin' or other--"

"Ichthyosaurus, perhaps, " supplied the Caracunuan, smiling. 

"That's it, whatever it may be. 'I'm an ichthyosaurus, ' he says. 'It's a very old family, but most of the buttons are off. Were youever bitten by one in the fossil state? Very exhilaratin', butpoisonous, ' he says. 'So don't let me keep you any longer fromyour dinner. ' Of course, I saw then that he was a wrong un, so Icut him dead, and walked away. "

"Served him right, " declared the elderly American, with a solemntwinkle directed at the tall brown man, who, having opened hismouth, now thought better of it, and closed it again, with a grin. 

"But he is very kind, " said the native. "When my brother fell andbroke his arm on the mountain, this gentleman found him, took careof him, and brought him in on muleback. "

"Lives up there somewhere, doesn't he, Mr. Raimonda?" asked thebig man. 

"In the quinta of a deserted plantation, " replied the Caracunan. 

"Wot's he do?" asked the Englishman. 

"Ah, THAT one does not know, unless Senor Sherwen can tell us. "

"Not I, " said the elderly man. "Some sort of scientificinvestigation, according to the guess of the men at the club. "

"You never can tell down here, " observed the Englishman darkly. "Might be a blind, you know. Calls himself Perkins. Dare say itisn't his name at all. "

"Daughter, " said Mr. Thatcher Brewster at this juncture, in apatient and plaintive voice, "for the fifth and last time, Iimplore you to pass me the butter, or that which purports to bebutter, in the dish at your elbow. "

"Oh, poor dad! Forgive me! But I was overhearing some news of an--an acquaintance. "

"Do you know any of the gentlemen upon whose conversation you areeavesdropping?"

In financial circles, Mr. Brewster was credited with thepossession of a cold blue eye and a denatured voice ofinterrogation, but he seldom succeeded in keeping a twinkle out ofthe one and a chuckle out of the other when conversing with hisdaughter. 

"Not yet, " observed that damsel calmly. 

"Meaning, I suppose I am to understand--"

"Precisely. Haven't you noticed them looking this way? Presentlythey'll be employing all their strategy to meet me. They'll employit on you. "

Mr. Brewster surveyed the group dubiously. 

"In a country such as this, one can't be too--too cau--"

"Too particular, as you were saying, " cut in his daughtercheerfully. "Men are scarce--except Fitzhugh, who is rather lessscarce than I wish he were lately. You know, " she added, with acovert glance at the adjoining table, "I wouldn't be surprised ifyou found yourself an extremely popular papa immediately afterdinner. It might even go so far as cigars. Do you suppose thatlovely young Caracunan is a bullfighter?"

"No; I believe he's a coffee exporter. Less romantic, but morerespectable. Quite one of the gilded youth of Caracuna. His nameis Raimonda. Fitzhugh knows him. By the way, where on earth isFitzhugh?"

"Trying to fit a kind and gentlemanly expression over a swollensense of injury, for a guess, " replied the girl carelessly. "Ileft him in sweet and lone communion with nature three hours ago. "

"Polly, I wish--"

"Oh, dad, dear, don't! You'll get your wish, I suppose, and Fitz, too. Only I don't want to be hurried. Here he is, now. Look atthat smile! A sculptor couldn't have done any better. Now, as soonas he comes, I'm going to be quite nice and kind. "

But Mr. Fairfax Preston Fitzhugh Carroll did not come direct tothe Brewster table. Instead, he stopped to greet the elderly manin the near-by group, and presently drew up a chair. At first, their conversation was low-toned, but presently the young nativeadded his more vivacious accents. 

"Who can tell?" the Brewsters heard him say, and marked thefatalistic gesture of the upturned hands. "They disappear. Onedoes not ask questions too much. "

"Not here, " confirmed the big man. "Always room for a few more inthe undersea jails, eh?"

"Always. But I think it was not that with Basurdo. I think it wasunderground, not undersea. " He brushed his neck with his fingertips. 

"Is it dangerous for foreigners?" asked Carroll quickly. 

"For every one, " answered Sherwen; adding significantly: "But theCaracunan Government does not approve of loose fostering ofrumors. "

Carroll rose and came over to the Brewsters. 

"May I bring Mr. Graydon Sherwen over and present him?" he asked. "I can vouch for him, having known his family at home, and--"

"Oh, bring them all, Fitzhugh, " commanded the girl. 

The exponent of Southern aristocracy looked uncomfortable. 

"As to the others, " he said, "Mr. Raimonda is a native--"

"With the manners of a prince. I've quite fallen in love with himalready, " she said wickedly. 

"Of course, if you wish it. But the other American is an ex-professional baseball player, named Cluff. "

"What? 'Clipper' Cluff? I knew I'd seen him before!" cried MissPolly. "He got his start in the New York State League. Why, we'requite old friends, by sight. "

"As for Galpy, he's an underbred little cockney bounder. "

"With the most naive line of conversation I've ever listened to. Iwant all of them. "

"Let me bring Sherwen first, " pleaded the suitor, and waspresently introducing that gentleman. "Mr. Sherwen is in chargehere of the American Legation, " he explained. 

"How does one salute a real live minister?" queried Miss Brewster. 

"Don't mistake me for anything so important, " said Sherwen. "We'renot keeping a minister in stock at present. My job is being asuperior kind of janitor until diplomatic relations are resumed. "

"Goodness! It sounds like war, " said Miss Brewster hopefully. "Isthere anything as exciting as that going on?"

"Oh, no. Just a temporary cessation of civilities between the twonations. If it weren't indiscreet--"

"Oh, do be indiscreet!" implored the girl, with clasped hands. "Iadmire indiscretion in others, and cultivate it in myself. "

Mr. Carroll looked pained, as the other laughed and said:--

"Well, it would certainly be most undiplomatic for me to hint thatthe great and friendly nation of Hochwald, which wields moreinfluence and has a larger market here than any other Europeanpower, has become a little jealous of the growing American trade. But the fact remains that the Hochwald minister and his secretary, Von Plaanden, who is a very able citizen when sober, --and is, ofcourse, almost always sober, --have not exerted themselvespainfully to compose the little misunderstanding between PresidentFortuno and us. The Dutch diplomats, who are not as diplomatic inspeech as I am, would tell you, if there were any of them lefthere to tell anything, that Von Plaanden's intrigues brought onthe present break with them. So there you have a brief, butreliable 'History of Our Times in the Island Republic ofCaracuna. '"

"Highly informative and improving to the untutored mind, " MissBrewster complimented him. "I like seeing the wires of empirepulled. More, please. "

"Perhaps you won't like the next so well, " observed Carrollgrimly. "There is bubonic plague here. "

"Oh--ah!" protested Sherwen gently. "The suspicion of plague. Quite a different matter. "

"Which usually turns out to be the same, doesn't it?" inquired Mr. Brewster. 

"Perhaps. People disappear, and one is not encouraged to ask aboutthem. But then people disappear for many causes in Caracuna. Politics here are somewhat--well--Philadelphian in method. But--there is smoke rising from behind Capo Blanco. "

"What is there?" inquired the girl. 

"The lazaretto. Still, it might be yellow fever, or only smallpox. The Government is not generous with information. To have plaguediscovered now would be very disturbing to the worthy plans of theHochwald Legation. For trade purposes, they would very muchdislike to have the port closed for a considerable time byquarantine. The Dutch difficulty they can arrange when they will. But quarantine would bring in the United States, and that is quiteanother matter. Well, we'll see, when Dr. Pruyn gets here. "

"Who is he?" asked Carroll. 

"Special-duty man of the United States Public Health Service. Thebest man on tropical diseases and quarantine that the service hasever had. "

"That isn't Luther Pruyn, is it?" inquired Mr. Brewster. 

"The same. Do you know him?"

"Yes. "

"More than I do, except by reputation. "

"He was in my class at college, but I haven't seen him since. I'dbe glad to see him again. A queer, dry fellow, but character andgrit to his backbone. " "I'd supposed he was younger, " saidSherwen. "Anyway, he's comparatively new to the service. His riseis the more remarkable. At present, he's not only our quarantinerepresentative, with full powers, but unofficially he acts, whileon his roving commission, for the British, the Dutch, the French, and half the South American republics. I suppose he's really themost important figure in the Caracuna crisis--and he hasn't evengot here yet. Perhaps our Hochwaldian friends have captured him onthe quiet. It would pay 'em, for if there is plague here, he'llcertainly trail it down. "

"Oh, I'm tired of plague, " announced Miss Polly. "Bring the othershere and let's all go over to the plaza, where it's cool. "

To their open and obvious delight, exhibited jauntily by theEnglishman, with awkward and admiring respectfulness by the ball-player, and with graceful ease by the handsome Caracunan, the restwere invited to join the party. 

"Don't let them scare you about plague, Miss Brewster, " saidCluff, as they found their chairs. "Foreigners don't get it much. "

"Oh, I'm not afraid! But, anyway, we shouldn't have time to catcheven a cold. We leave to-morrow. "

The men exchanged glances. 

"How?" inquired Sherwen and Raimonda in a breath. 

"In the yacht, from Puerto del Norte. "

"Not if it were a British battleship, " said Galpy. "Port'sclosed. "

"What? Quarantine already?" said Carroll. 

"Quarantine be blowed! It's the Dutch. "

"I thought you knew, " said Sherwen. "All the town is ringing withthe news. It just came in to-night. Holland has declared ablockade until Caracuna apologizes for the interference with itscable. "

"And nothing can pass?" asked Mr. Brewster. 

"Nothing but an aeroplane or a submarine. "

There was a silence. Miss Polly Brewster broke it with a curiousquestion:--

"What day is day after to-morrow?"

Several voices had answered her, but she paid little heed, forthere had slipped over her shoulder a brown thin hand holding acunningly woven closed basket of reedwork. A soft voice murmuredsomething in Spanish. 

"What does he say?" asked the girl "For me?"

"He thinks it must be for you, " translated Raimonda, "from thedescription. "

"What description?"

"He was told to go to the hotel and deliver it to the mostbeautiful lady. There could hardly be any mistaking such specificinstructions even by an ignorant mountain peon, " he added, smiling. 

The girl opened the curious receptacle, and breathed a little gaspof delight. Bedded in fern, lay a mass of long sprays aquiver withbells of the purest, most lucent white, each with a great glow ofgold at its heart. 

"Ah, " observed the young Caracunan, "I see that you are personagrata with our worthy President, Miss Brewster. "

"President Fortuno?" asked the girl, surprised. "No; not that I'maware of. Why do you say that?"

"That is his special orchid--almost the official flower. They callit 'the President's orchid. '"

"Has he a monopoly of growing them?" asked Miss Brewster. 

"No one can grow them. They die when transplanted from theirnative cliffs. But it's only the President's rangers who aredaring enough to get them. "

"Are they so inaccessible?"

"Yes. They grow nowhere but on the cliff faces, usually in thewildest part of the mountains. Few people except the hunters andmountaineers know where, and it's only the most adventurous ofthem who go after the flowers. "

"Do you suppose this boy got these?" Miss Brewster indicated theshy and dusky messenger. 

Raimonda spoke to the boy for a moment. 

"No; he didn't collect them. Nor is he one of the President's men. I don't quite understand it. "

"Who did gather them?"

"All that he will say is, 'the master. '"

"Oh!" said Miss Brewster, and retired into a thoughtful silence. 

"They're very beautiful, aren't they?" continued the Caracunan. "And they carry a pretty sentiment. "

"Tell me, " commanded the girl, emerging from her reverie. 

"The mountaineers say that their fragrance casts a spell whichcarries the thought back to the giver. "

"Is that the language of science?" she queried absently, with athought far away. 

"But no, senorita, assuredly not, " said the young Caracufian. "Itis the language--permit that I say it better in French--c'est lelangage d'amour. "

III

THE BETTER PART OF VALOR

Night fell with the iron clangor of bells, and day broke to theaccompaniment of further insensate jangling, for Caracuna City hasthe noisiest cathedral in the world; and still the graceful grayyacht Polly lay in the harbor at Puerto del Norte, hemmed in by athin film of smoke along the horizon where the Dutch warshippromenaded. 

In one of the side caverns off the main dining-room of the HotelKast, the yacht's owner, breakfasting with the yacht's tutelarygoddess and the goddess's determined pursuer, discussed theblockade. Though Miss Polly Brewster kept up her end of theconversation, her thoughts were far upon a breeze-swept mountain-side. How, she wondered, had that dry and strange hermit of thewilds known the news before the city learned it? With her wondercame annoyance over her lost wager. The beetle man, she judged, would be coolly superior about it. So she delivered herself ofsundry stinging criticisms regarding the conduct of the CaracunanAdministration in having stupidly involved itself in a blockade. She even spoke of going to see the President and apprising him ofher views. 

"I'd like to tell him how to run this foolish little island, " saidshe, puckering a quaintly severe brow. 

"Now is the appointed time for you to plunge in and change thecourse of empire, " her father suggested to her. "There's anofficial morning reception at ten o'clock. We're invited. "

"Then I shan't go. I wouldn't give the old goose the satisfactionof going to his fiesta. "

"Meaning the noble and patriotic President?" said Carroll. "Treason most foul! The cuartels are full of chained prisoners whohave said less. "

"Father can go with Mr. Sherwen. I shall do some importantshopping, " announced Miss Brewster. "And I don't want any onealong. "

Thus apprised of her intentions, Carroll wrapped himself in gloom, and retired to write a letter. 

Miss Polly's shopping, being conducted mainly through the mediumof the sign language, presently palled upon her sensibilities, andabout twelve o'clock she decided upon a drive. Accordingly shestepped into one of the pretty little toy victorias with which thecity swarms. 

"Para donde?" inquired the driver. 

His fare made an expansive gesture, signifying "Anywhere. " Beingan astute person in his own opinion, the Jehu studied the prettyforeigner's attire with an appraising eye, profoundly estimatedthat so much style and elegance could be designed for only onefunction of the day, whirled her swiftly along the two-mile driveof the Calvario Road, and landed her at the President's palace, half an hour after the reception was over. Supposing from thecoachman's signs that she was expected to go in and view somepublic garden, she paid him, walked far enough to be stopped bythe apologetic and appreciative guard, and returned to thehighway, to find no carriage in sight. Never mind, she reflected;she needed the exercise. Accordingly, she set out to walk. 

But the noonday sun of Caracuia has a bite to it. For a time, MissBrewster followed the car tracks which were her sure guide fromthe palace to the Kast; briskly enough, at first. But, after threecars had passed her, she began to think longingly of the fourth. When it stopped at her signal, it was well filled. The mostpromising ingress appeared to be across the blockade of a robustand much-begilded young man, who was occupying the familiarposition of an "end-seat hog, " and displaying the full glories ofthe Hochwaldian dress uniform. 

Herr von Plaanden was both sleepy and cross, for, having lingeredafter the reception to have a word and several drinks with theMinister of Foreign Affairs, he had come forth to find neithercoach nor automobile in attendance. There had been nothing for itbut the plebeian trolley. Accordingly, when he heard a foreignvoice of feminine timbre and felt a light pressure against hisknee, he only snorted. What he next felt against his knee was theimpact of a half-shove, half-blow, brisk enough to slue himaround. The intruder passed by to the vacant seat, while the nowthoroughly awakened and annoyed Hochwaldian whirled, to findhimself looking into a pair of expressionless brown goggles. 

With a snort of fury, the diplomat struck backward. The glassesand the solemn face behind them dodged smartly. The next moment, Herr von Plaanden felt his neck encircled by a clasp none the lesswarm for being not precisely affectionate. He was pinned. Twisting, he worked one arm loose. 

"Be careful!" warned the cool voice of Polly Brewster, addressingher defender. "He's trying to draw his sword. "

The gogglesome one's grip slid a little lower. The car had nowstopped, and the conductor came forward, brandishing what wasapparently the wand of authority, designed to be symbolic ratherthan utile, since at no point was it thicker than a man's finger. From a safe distance on the running-board, he flourished this, whooping the while in a shrill and dissuasive manner. Somewheredown the street was heard a responsive yell, and a small, jerky, olive-green policia pranced into view. 

Thereupon a strange thing happened. The rescuing knight relaxedhis grip, leaped the back of his seat, dropped off the car, anddarted like a hunted hare across a compound, around a wall, and sointo the unknown, deserting his lady fair, if not precisely in thehour of greatest need, at least in a situation fraught withuntoward possibilities. Indeed, it seemed as if thesepossibilities might promptly become actualities, for the diplomatturned his stimulated wrath upon the girl, and was addressing herin tones too emphatic to be mistaken when a large angular forminterposed itself, landing with a flying leap on the seat betweenthem. 

"Move!" the newly arrived one briefly bade Herr von Plaanden. 

Herr von Plaanden, feeling the pressure of a shoulder formed uponthe generous lines of a gorilla's, and noting the approach of thepolicia on the other side, was fain to obey. 

"Don't you be scared, miss, " said Cluff, turning to the girl. "It's all over. "

"I'm not frightened, " she said, with a catch in her voice. 

"Of course you ain't, " he agreed reassuringly. "You just sitquiet--"

"But I--I--I'm MAD, clean through. "

"You gotta right. You gotta perfect right. Now, if this was NewYork, I'd spread that gold-laced guy's face--"

"I'm not angry at him. Not particularly, I mean. "

"No?" queried her friend in need. "What got your goat, then?"

Miss Brewster shot a quick and scornful glance over her shoulder. 

"Oh, HIM" interpreted the athlete. "Well, he made his get-awaylike a man with some reason for being elsewhere. "

"Reason enough. He was afraid. "

"Maybe. Being afraid's a queer thing, " remarked her escortacademically. "Now, me, I'm afraid of a fuzzy caterpillar. But Iain't exactly timid about other things. "

"You certainly aren't. And I don't know how to thank you. "

"Aw, that's awright, miss. What else could I do? Our departedfriend, Professor Goggle-Eye, when he made his jump, landed rightin my shirt front. 'Take my place, ' he says; 'I've got anengagement. ' Well, I was just moving forward, anyway, so it was notrouble at all, I assure you, " asserted the doughty Cluff, achieving a truly elegant conclusion. 

"Most fortunate for me, " said the girl sweetly. "Mr. Perkinsscuttled away like one of his own little wretched beetles. When Isee him again--"

"Again? Oh, well, if he's a friend of yours, accourse he'd awtuvstood by--"

"He isn't!" she declared, with unnecessary vehemence. 

"Don't you be too hard on him, miss, " argued her escort. "Seems tome he did a pretty good job for you, and stuck to it until hefound some one else to take it up. "

"Then why didn't he stand by you?"

"Oh, I don't carry any 'Help-wanted' signs on me. You know, miss, you can't size up a man in this country like he was at home. Now, me, I'd have natcherly hammered that Von Plaanden gink all to heh--heh--hash. But did I do it? I did not. You see, I got a littlemining concession out here in the mountains, and if I was to getinto any diplomatic mix-up and bring in the police, it'd be badfor my business, besides maybe getting me a couple of tons ofbracelets around my pretty little ankles. Like as not your friend, Professor Lamps, has got an equally good reason for keeping thepeace. "

"Do you mean that this man will make trouble for you over this?"

"Not as things stand. So long as nothing was done--no arrests oranything like that--he'll be glad to forget it, when he sobersup. I'll forget it, too, and maybe, miss, it wouldn't be any harmto anybody if you did a turn at forgetting, yourself. "

But neither by the venturesome Miss Polly nor by her athleteservitor was the episode to be so readily dismissed. Late thatafternoon, when the Brewster party were sitting about iced fruitdrinks amid the dingy and soiled elegance of the Kast's oneprivate parlor, Mr. Sherwen's card arrived, followed shortly byMr. Sherwen's immaculate self, creaseless except for one furrow ofthe brow. 

"How you are going to get out of here I really don't know, " hesaid. 

"Why should we hurry?" inquired Miss Brewster. "I don't findCaracuna so uninteresting. "

"Never since I came here has it been so charming, " said thelegation representative, with a smiling bow. "But, much as yourparty adds to the landscape, I'm not at all sure that this city isthe most healthful spot for you at present. "

"You mean the plague?" asked Mr. Brewster. 

"Not quite so loud, please. 'Healthful, ' as I used it, was, inpart, a figure of speech. Something is brewing hereabout. "

"Not a revolution?" cried Miss Polly, with eyes alight. "Oh, dobrew a revolution for me! I should so adore to see one!"

"Possibly you may, though I hardly think it. Some readjustment offoreign relations, at most. The Dutch blockade is, perhaps, only abeginning. However, it's sufficient to keep you bottled up, thoughif we could get word to them, I dare say they would let a yacht goout. "

"Senator Richland, of the Committee on Foreign Relations, is anold friend of my family, " said Carroll, in his measured tones. "Acable--"

"Would probably never get through. This Government wouldn't allowit. There are other possibilities. Perhaps, Mr. Brewster, " hecontinued, with a side glance at the girl, "we might talk it overat length this evening. "

"Quite useless, Mr. Sherwen, " smiled the magnate. "Polly wouldhave it all out of me before I was an hour older. She may as wellget it direct. "

"Very well, then. It's this quarantine business. If Dr. Pruyncomes here and declares bubonic plague--"

"But how will he get in?" asked Carroll. 

"So far as the blockade goes, the Dutch will help him all theycan. But this Government will keep him out, if possible. "

"He is not persona grata?" asked Brewster. 

"Not with any of the countries that play politics with pestilence. But if he's sent here, he'll get in some way. In fact, Stark, thepublic-health surgeon at Puerto del Norte, let fall a hint thatmakes me think he's on his way now. Probably in some cockleshellof a small boat manned by Indian smugglers. "

"It sounds almost too adventurous for the scholarly Pruyn whom Irecall, " observed Mr. Brewster. 

"The man who went through the cholera anarchy on the lazar islandoff Camacho, with one case of medical supplies and two boxes ofcartridges, may have been scholarly; he certainly didn't exhibitany distaste for adventure. Well, I wish he'd arrive and getsomething settled. Only I'd like to have you out of the wayfirst. "

"Oh, don't send ME away, Mr. Sherwen, " pleaded Miss Polly, withmischief in her eyes. "I'd make the cunningest little officeassistant to busy old Dr. Pruyn. And he's a friend of dad's, andwe surely ought to wait for him. "

"If only I COULD send you! The fact is, Americans won't be verypopular if matters turn out as I expect. "

"Shall we be confined to our rooms and kept incomunicado, whileDr. Pruyn chases the terrified germ through the streets ofCaracuna?" queried the irrepressible Polly. 

"You'll probably have to move to the legation, where you will bevery welcome, but none too comfortable. The place has beenpractically closed and sealed for two months. "

"I'm sure we should bother you dreadfully, " said the girl. 

"It would bother me more dreadfully if you got into any trouble. Just this morning there was some kind of an affair on a street carin which some Americans were involved. "

Miss Polly's countenance was a design--a very dainty andornamental design--in insouciance as her father said:--

"Americans? Any one we have met?"

"No news has come to me. I understand one of the diplomatic corps, returning from the President's matinee, spoke to an Americanwoman, and an American man interfered. "

"When did this happen?" asked Carroll. 

"About noon. Inquiries are going on quietly. "

The young man directed a troubled and accusing look from his fineeyes upon Miss Brewster. 

"You see, Miss Polly, " he said, "no lady should go aboutunprotected down here. "

"Ordinarily it's as safe as any city, " said Sherwen. "Just now Ican't be so certain. "

"I hate being watched over like a child!" pouted Miss Brewster. "And I love sight-seeing alone. The flowers along the CalvarioRoad were so lovely. "

"That's the road to the palace, " remarked Carroll, looking at herclosely. 

"And the butterflies are so marvelous, " she continued cheerfully. "Who lives in that salmon-pink pagoda just this side of thecurve?"

Trouble sat dark and heavy upon the handsome features of Mr. Preston Fairfax Fitzhugh Carroll, but he was too experienced toput a direct query to his inamorata. What suspicion he had, hecherished until after dinner, when he took it to the club and madeit the foundation of certain inquiries. 

Thus it happened that at eleven o'clock that evening, he pausedbefore a bench in the plaza, bowered in the bloom of creeperswhich flowed down from a balcony of the Kast, and occupied by thecomfortably sprawled-out form of Mr. Thomas Cluff, who was makinga burnt offering to Morpheus. 

"Good-evening!" said Mr. Carroll pleasantly. 

"Evenin'! How's things?" returned the other. 

"Right as can be, thanks to you. On behalf of the Brewster family, I want to express our appreciation of your assistance to MissBrewster this morning. "

"Oh, that was nothing, " returned the other. 

"But it might have been a great deal. Mr. Brewster will wish tothank you in person--"

"Aw, forget it!" besought Mr. Thomas Cluff. "That little lady isall right. I'd just as soon eat an ambassador, let alone a gilt-framed secretary, to help her out. "

"Miss Brewster, " said the other, somewhat more stiffly, "is awholly admirable young lady, but she is not always well advised ingoing out unescorted. By the way, you can doubtless confirm therumor as to the identity of her insulter. "

"His name is Von Plaanden. But I don't think he meant to insultany one. "

"You will permit me to be the best judge of that. "

"Go as far as you like, " asserted the big fellow cheerfully. "Thatfellow Perkins can tell you more about the start of the thing thanI can. "

"From what I hear, he has no cause to be proud of his part in thematter, " said the Southerner, frowning. 

"He's sure a prompt little runner, " asserted Cluff. "But I've runaway in my time, and glad of the chance. "

"You will excuse me from sympathizing with your standards. "

"Sure, you're excused, " returned the athlete, so placidly thatCarroll, somewhat at a loss, altered his speech to a more gracioustone. 

"At any rate, you stood your ground when you were needed, which ismore than Mr. Perkins did. I should like to have a talk with him. "

"That's easy. He was rambling around here not a quarter of an hourago with young Raimonda. That's them sitting on the bench over bythe fountain. "

"Will you take me over and present me? I think it is due Mr. Perkins that some one should give him a frank opinion of hisactions. "

"I'd like to hear that, " observed Cluff, who was not withouthumanistic curiosity. "Come along. "

Heaving up his six-feet-one from the seat, he led the way to thetwo conversing men. Raimonda looked around and greeted thenewcomers pleasantly. Cluff waved an explanatory hand between hischarge and the bench. 

"Make you acquainted with Mr. Perkins, " he said, neglecting tomention the name of the first party of the introduction. 

Perkins, goggling upward to meet a coldly hostile glance, rose, nodded in some wonder, and said: "How do you do?" Raimonda sentCluff a glance of interrogation, to which that experimentalist inhuman antagonisms responded with a borrowed Spanish gesture ofpleasurable uncertainty. 

"I will not say that I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Perkins, " beganCarroll weightily, and paused. 

If he expected a query, he was doomed to a disappointment. Such ofthe Perkins features as were not concealed by his extraordinaryglasses expressed an immovable calm. 

"Doubtless you know to what I refer. "

Still those blank brown glasses regarded him in silence. 

"Do you or do you not?" demanded Carroll, struggling to keep histemper in the face of this exasperating irresponsiveness. 

"Haven't the least idea, " replied Perkins equably. 

"You were on the tram this morning when Miss Brewster wasinsulted, weren't you?"

"Yes. "

"And ran away?"

"I did. "

"What did you run away for?"

"I ran away, " the other sweetly informed him, "on importantbusiness of my own. "

Cluff snickered. The suspicion impinged upon Carroll's mind thatthis wasn't going to be as simple as he had expected. 

"Let that go for the moment. Do you know Miss Brewster'sinsulter?"

"No. "

"Are you telling me the truth?" asked the Southerner sternly. 

The begoggled one's chin jerked up. To the trained eye of Cluff, swift to interpret physical indications, it seemed that Perkins'sweight had almost imperceptibly shifted its center of gravity. 

"Our Southern friend is going to run into something if he doesn'tlook out, " he reflected. 

But there was no hint of trouble in Perkins's voice as hereplied:--

"I know who he is. I don't know him. "

"Was it Von Plaanden?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because, " returned the other, with convincing coolness, "if itwas, I intend to slap his face publicly as soon as I can findhim. "

"You must do nothing of the sort. "

Now, indeed, there was a change in the other's bearing. The wordscame sharp and crisp. 

"I shall do exactly as I said. Perhaps you will explain why youthink otherwise. "

"Because you must have some sense somewhere about you. Do yourealize where you are?"

"I hardly think you can teach me geography, or anything else, Mr. Perkins. "

"Well, good God, " said the other sharply, "somebody's got to teachyou! What do you suppose would be the result of your slapping VonPlaanden's face?"

"Whatever it may be, I am ready. I will fight him with anyweapons, and gladly. "

"Oh, yes; gladly! Fun for you, all right. But suppose you think ofothers a little. "

"Afraid of being involved yourself?" smiled Carroll. "I'm sure youcould run away successfully from any kind of trouble. "

"Others might not be so able to escape. "

"Of course I'm wholly wrong, and my training and traditions areabsurdly old-fashioned, but I've been brought up to believe thatthe American who will run from a fight, or who will not stand upat home or abroad for American rights, American womanhood, and theAmerican flag, isn't a man. "

"Oh, keep it for the Fourth of July, " returned Perkins wearily. "You can't get me into a fight. "

"Fight?" Carroll laughed shortly. "If you had the traditions of agentleman, you would not require any more provocation. "

"If I had the traditions of a deranged doodle bug, I'd go aroundhunting trouble in a country that is full of it for foreigners--even those who behave themselves like sane human beings. "

"Meaning, perhaps, that I'm not a sane human being?" inquired theSoutherner. 

"Do you think you act like it? To satisfy your own petty vanity ofcourage, you'd involve all of us in difficulties of which you knownothing. We're living over a powder magazine here, and you want tolight matches to show what a hero you are. Traditions! Don't youtalk to me about traditions! If you can serve your country or awoman better by running away than by fighting, the sensible thingto do is to run away. The best thing you can do is to keep quietand let Von Plaanden drop. Otherwise, you'll have Miss Brewsterthe center of--"

"Keep your tongue from that lady's name!" warned Carroll. 

"You're giving a good many orders, " said the other slowly. "ButI'll do almost anything just now to keep you peaceable, and toconvince you that you must let Von Plaanden strictly alone. "

"Just as surely as I meet him, " said the Southerner ominously, "onmy word of honor--" "Wait a moment, " broke in the other sharply. "Don't commit yourself until you've heard me. Just around thecorner from here is a cuartel. It isn't a nice clean jail likeours at home. Fleas are the pleasantest companions in the place. When a man--particularly an obnoxious foreigner--lands there, theyare rather more than likely to forget little incidentals like foodand water. And if he should happen to be of a nation withoutdiplomatic representation here, as is the case with the UnitedStates at present, he might well lie there incomunicado until hishearing, which might be in two days or might not be for a month. Is that correct, Mr. Raimonda?"

"Essentially, " confirmed the Caracunan. 

"When you are through trying to frighten me--" began Carrollcontemptuously. 

"Frighten you? I'm not so foolish as to waste time that way. I'mtrying to warn you. "

"Are you quite done?"

"I am not. On MY honor--" He broke off as Carroll smiled. "Smileif you like, but believe what I'm telling you. Unless you agree tokeep your hands and tongue off Von Plaanden I'll lay aninformation which will land you in the cuartel within an hour. "

The smile froze on the Southerner's lips. 

"Could he do that?" he asked Raimonda. 

"I'm afraid he could. And, really, Mr. Carroll, he's correct inprinciple. In the present state of political feeling, an assaultby an American upon the representative of Hochwald might seriouslyendanger all of your party. "

"That's right, " Cluff supported him. "I'm with you in wanting tobreak that gold-frilled geezer's face up into small sections, butit just won't do. "

With an effort, Carroll recovered his self-control. 

"Mr. Raimonda, " he said courteously, "I give YOU my word thatthere will be no trouble between Herr Von Plaanden and myself, ofmy seeking, until Mr. And Miss Brewster are safely out of thecountry. "

"That's enough, " said Cluff heartily. "The rest of us can takecare of ourselves. "

"Meantime, " said Raimonda, "I think the whole matter can bearranged. Von Plaanden shall apologize to Miss Brewster to-morrow. It is not his first outbreak, and always he regrets. My uncle, whois of the Foreign Office, will see to it. "

"Then that's settled, " remarked Perkins cheerfully. 

Carroll turned upon him savagely:--

"To your entire satisfaction, no doubt, now that you've shownyourself an informer as well as--"

"Easy with the rough stuff, Mr. Carroll, " advised Cluff, his good-natured face clouding. "We're all a little het up. Let's have adrink, and cool down. "

"With you, with pleasure. I shall hope to meet you later, Mr. Perkins, " he added significantly. 

"Well, I hope not, " retorted the other. "My voice is still forpeace. Meantime, please assure Miss Brewster for me--"

"I warned you to keep that lady's name from your lips. "

"You did. But I don't know by what authority. You're not herfather, I suppose. Are you her brother, by any chance?"

As he spoke, Perkins experienced that curious feeling that someinvisible person was trying to catch his eye. Now, as he turneddirectly upon Carroll, his glance, passing over his shoulder, followed a broad ray of light spreading from a second-story leaf-framed balcony of the hotel. There was a stir amid the greenery. The face of the Voice appeared, framed in flowers. Its featureslighted up with mirth, and the lips formed the unmistakablemonosyllable: "Boo!"

The identification was complete--"Boo to a goose. "

"Preston Fairfax Fitzhugh Carroll!" Unwittingly he spoke the namealoud, and, unfortunately, laughed. 

To a less sensitive temperament, even, than Carroll's, theprovocation would have been extreme. Perkins was recalled to amore serious view of the situation by the choking accents of thatgentleman. 

"Take off your glasses!"

"What for?"

"Because I'm going to thrash you within an inch of your life!"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" cried the young Caracunan. "This is noplace for such an affair. "

Apparently Perkins held the same belief. Stepping aside, heabruptly sat down on the end of the bench, facing the fountain andnot four feet from it. His head drooped a little forward; hishands dropped between his knees; one foot--but Cluff, the athlete, was the only one to note this--edged backward and turned to securea firm hold on the pavement. Carroll stepped over in front of himand stood nonplused. He half drew his hand back, then let it fall. 

"I can't hit a man sitting down, " he muttered distressfully. 

Perkins's set face relaxed. 

"Running true to tradition, " he observed, pleasantly enough. "Ididn't think you would. See here, Mr. Carroll, I'm sorry that Ilaughed at your name. In fact, I didn't really laugh at your nameat all. It was at something quite different which came into mymind at that moment. "

"Your apology is accepted so far, " returned the other stiffly. "But that doesn't settle the other account between us, when wemeet again. Or do you choose to threaten me with jail for that, also?"

"No. It's easier to keep out of your way. "

"Good Lord!" cried the Southerner in disgust. "Are you afraid ofeverything?"

"Why, no!" Perkins rose, smiling at him with perfect equanimity. "As a matter of fact, if you're interested to know, I wasn'tparticularly afraid of Von Plaanden, and, if I may say so withoutoffense, I'm not particularly afraid of you. "

Carroll studied him intently. 

"By Jove, I believe you aren't! I give it up!" he crieddesperately. "You're crazy, I reckon--or else I am. " And he tookhimself off without the formality of a farewell to the others. 

Raimonda, with a courteous bow to his companions, followed him. 

Wearily the goggled one sank back in his seat. Cluff moved across, planting himself exactly where Carroll had stood. 

"Perkins!"

"Eh?" responded the sitter absently. 

"What would you do if I should bat you one in the eye?"

"Eh, what?"

"What would you do to me?"

"You, too?" cried the bewildered Perkins. "Why on earth--"

"You'd dive into my knees, wouldn't you, and tip me overbackward?"

"Oh, that!" A slow grin overspread the space beneath the glasses. "That was the idea. "

"I know the trick. It's a good one--except for the guy that getsit. "

"It wouldn't have hurt him. He'd have landed in the fountain. "

"So he would. What then?"

"Oh, I'd have held him there till he got cooled off, and then madea run for it. A wet man can't catch a dry man. "

"Say, son, YOU'RE a dry one, all right. "

"Eh?"

"Wake up! I'm saying you're all right. "

"Much obliged. "

"You certainly took enough off him to rile a sheep. Why didn't youdo it?"

"Do what?"

"Tip him in. "

Perkins glanced upward at the balcony where the vines had closedupon a face that smiled. 

"Oh, " he said mildly, "he's a friend of a friend of mine. "

IV

TWO ON A MOUNTAIN-SIDE

ORCHIDS do not, by preference, grow upon a cactus plant. Littlethough she recked of botany, Miss Brewster was aware of thisfundamental truth. Neither do they, without extraneous impulsion, go hurtling through the air along deserted mountain-sides, to finda resting-place far below; another natural-history fact which theyoung lady appreciated without being obliged to consult theliterature of the subject. Therefore, when, from the top of theappointed rock, she observed a carefully composed bunch of mauveCattleyas describe a parabola and finally join two previousclusters upon the spines of a prickly-pear patch, she divined someenergizing force back of the phenomenon. That energizing force shesurmised was temper. 

"Fie!" said she severely. "Beetle gentlemen should control theirlittle feelings. Naughty, naughty!"

From below rose a fervid and startled exclamation. 

"Naughtier, naughtier!" deprecated the visitor. "Are these thecold and measured terms of science?"

"You haven't lived up to your bet, " complained the censured one. 

"Indeed I have! I always play fair, and pay fair. Here I am, asper contract. "

"Nearly half an hour late. "

"Not at all. Four-thirty was the time. "

"And now it is three minutes to five. "

"Making twenty-seven minutes that I've been sitting here waitingfor a welcome. "

"Waiting? Oh, Miss Brewster--"

"I'm not Miss Brewster. I'm a voice in the wilderness. "

"Then, Voice, you haven't been there more than one minute. A voiceisn't a voice until it makes a noise like a voice. Q. E. D. "

"There is something in that argument, " she admitted. "But whydidn't you come up and look for me?"

"Does one look for a sound?"

"Please don't be so logical. It tires my poor little brain. Youmight at least have called. "

"That would have been like holding you up for payment of the bet, wouldn't it? I was waiting for you to speak. "

"Not good form in Caracuna. The senor should always speak first. "

"You began the other time, " he pointed out. 

"So I did, but that was under a misapprehension. I hadn't learnedthe customs of the country then. By the way, is it a local customfor hermits of science to climb breakneck precipices for golden-hearted orchids to send to casual acquaintances?"

"Is that what you are?" he queried in a slightly depressed tone. 

"What on earth else could I be?" she returned, amused. 

"Of course. But we all like to pretend that our fairy tales arepermanent, don't we?"

"I can readily picture you chasing beetles, but I can't see youchasing fairies at all, " she asserted positively. 

"Nor can I. If you chase them, they vanish. Every one knows that. "

"Anyway, your orchids were fit for a fairy queen. I haven'tthanked you for them yet. "

"Indeed you have. Much more than they deserve. By coming here to-day. "

"Oh, that was a point of honor. Are you going to let those lovelypurple ones wither on that prickly plant down there? Think howmuch better they'd look pinned on me--if there were any one hereto see and appreciate. "

If this were a hint, it failed of its aim, for, as the hermitscuttled out from his shelter, looking not unlike some bulkyprotrusive-eyed insect, secured the orchids, and returned, henever once glanced up. Safe again in his rock-bound retreat, hespoke:--

"'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair. '"

"So you do know something of fairies and fairy lore!" she cried. 

"Oh, it wasn't much more than a hundred years ago that I read myGrimm. In the story, only one call was necessary. "

"Well, I can't spare any more of my silken tresses. I brought astring this time. Where's the other hair line?"

"I've used it to tether a fairy thought so that it can't fly awayfrom me. Draw up slowly. "

"Thank you so much, and I'm so glad that you are feeling better. "

"Better?"

"Yes. Better than the day before yesterday. "

"Day before yesterday?"

"Bless the poor man! Much anxious waiting hath bemused his wits. He thinks he's an echo. "

"But I was all right the day before yesterday. "

"You weren't. You were a prey to the most thrilling terrors. Youwere a moving picture of tender masculinity in distress. You letbashfulness like a worm i' th' bud prey upon your damask cheek. Have you a damask cheek? Stand out! I wish to consider youimpartially. YOU needn't look at ME, you know. "

"I'm not going to, " he assured her, stepping forth obediently. 

"Basilisk that I am!" she laughed. "How brown you are! How longdid you say you'd been here? A year?"

"Fourteen weary Voiceless months. Not on this island, you know, but around the tropics. "

"Yet you look vigorous and alert; not like the men I've seen comeback from the hot countries, all languid and worn out. And you dolook clean. "

"Why shouldn't I be clean?"

"Of course you should. But people get slack, don't they, when theylive off all alone by themselves? Still, I suppose you spruced upa little for me?"

"Nothing of the sort, " he denied, with heat. 

"No? Oh, my poor little vanity! He wouldn't dress up for us, Vanity, though we did dress up for him, and we're looking awfullynice--for a voice, that is. Do you always keep so soft and pinkand smooth, Mr. Beetle Man?"

"I own a razor, if that's what you mean. You're making fun of me. Well, _I_ don't mind. " He lifted his voice and chanted:--

 "Although beyond the pale of law, He always kept a polished jaw; For he was one of those who saw A saving hope In shaving soap. "

"Oh, lovely! What a noble finish. What is it?"

"Extract from 'Biographical Blurbings. '"

"Autobiographical?"

"Yes. By Me. "

"And are you beyond the pale of law?"

"Poetical license, " he explained airily. "Hold on, though. " Hefell silent a moment, and out of that silence came a short laugh. "I suppose I AM beyond the pale of law, now that I come to thinkof it. But you needn't be alarmed, I'm not a really dangerouscriminal. "

Later she was to recall that confession with sore misgivings. Nowshe only inquired lightly:

"Is that why you ran away from the tram car yesterday?" "Ran away?I didn't run away, " he said, with dignity. "It just happened thatthere came into my mind an important engagement that I'dforgotten. My memory isn't what it should be. So I just turnedover the matter in hand to an acquaintance of mine. "

"The matter in hand being me. "

"Why, yes; and the acquaintance being Mr. Cluff. I saw him throwfour men out of a hotel once for insulting a girl, so I knew thathe was much better at that sort of thing than I. May I go back nowand sit down?" "Of course. I don't know whether I ought to thankyou about yesterday or be very angry. It was such an extraordinaryperformance on your part--"

"Nothing extraordinary about it. " His voice came up out of theshadow, full of judicial confidence. "Merely sound common sense. "

"To leave a woman who has been insulted--"

"In more competent hands than one's own. "

"Oh, I give it up!" she cried. "I don't understand you at all. Fitzhugh is right; you haven't a tradition to your name. "

"Tradition, " he repeated thoughtfully. "Why, I don't know. They'repretty rigid things, traditions. Rusty in the joints and all thatsort of thing. Life isn't a process of machinery, exactly. One hasto meet it with something more supple and adjustable thantraditions. "

"Is that your philosophy? Suppose a man struck you. Wouldn't youhit him back?"

"Perhaps. It would depend. "

"Or insulted your country? Don't you believe that men should beready to die, if necessary, in such a cause?"

"Some men. Soldiers, for instance. They're paid to. "

"Good Heavens! Is it all a question of pay in your mind? Wouldn'tYOU, unless you were paid for it?"

"How can I tell until the occasion arises?"

"Are you afraid?"

"I suppose I might be. "

"Hasn't the man any blood in his veins?" cried his inquisitor, exasperated. "Haven't you ever been angry clear through?"

"Oh, of course; and sorry for it afterward. One is likely to loseone's temper any time. It might easily happen to me and drive meto make a fool of myself, like--like--" His voice trailed off intoa silence of embarrassment. 

"Like Fitzhugh Carroll. Why not say it? Well, I much prefer himand his hot-headedness to you and your careful wisdom. "

"Of course, " he acquiesced patiently. "Any girl would. It's theromantic temperament. "

"And yours is the scientific, I suppose. That doesn't take intoaccount little things like patriotism and heroism, does it? Tellme, have you actually ever admired--really got a thrill out of--any deed of heroism?"

"Oh, yes, " he replied tranquilly. "I've done my bit of heroworship in my time. In fact, I've never quite recovered from it. "

"No! Really? Do go on. You're growing more human every minute. "

"Do you happen to know anything about the Havana campaign?"

"Not much. It never seemed to me anything to brag of. Dad says theSpanish-American War grew a crop of newspaper-made heroes, manufactured by reporters who really took more risks and showedmore nerve than the men they glorified. "

"Spanish-American War? That isn't what I'm talking about. I'mspeaking of Walter Reed and his fellow scientists, who went downthere and fought the mosquitoes. "

The girl's lip curled. 

"So that's your idea of heroism! Scrubby peckers into the lives ofhelpless bugs!"

"Have you the faintest idea what you are talking about?"

His voice had abruptly hardened. There was an edge to it; such anedge as she had faintly heard on the previous night, when Carrollhad pressed him too hard. She was startled. 

"Perhaps I haven't, " she admitted. 

"Then it's time you learned. Three American doctors went down intothat pesthole of a Cuban city to offer their lives for a theory. Not for a tangible fact like the flag, or for glory and fame as inbattle, but for a theory that might or might not be true. Therewasn't a day or a night that their lives weren't at stake. Carrolllet himself be bitten by infected mosquitoes on a final test, andgrazed death by a hair's breadth. Lazear was bitten at his work, and died in the agony of yellow-fever convulsions, a martyr and ahero if ever there was one. Because of them, Havana is safe andlivable now. We were able to build the Panama Canal because oftheir work, their--what did you call it?--scrubby peeking into thelives of--"

"Don't!" cried the girl. "I--I'm ashamed. I didn't know. "

"How should you?" he said, in a changed tone. "We Americans set upmonuments to our destroyers, not to our preservers, of life. Nobody knows about Walter Reed and James Carroll and Jesse Lazear--not even the American Government, which they officially served--except a few doctors and dried-up entomologists like myself. Forgive me. I didn't mean to deliver a lecture. "

There was a long pause, which she broke with an effort. 

"Mr. Beetle Man?"

"Yes, Voice?"

"I--I'm beginning to think you rather more man than beetle attimes. "

"Well, you see, you touched me on a point of fanaticism, " heapologized. 

"Do you mind standing up again for examination? No, " she decided, as he stepped out and stood with his eyes lowered obstinately. "You don't seem changed to outward view. You still remind me, "with a ripple of irrepressible laughter, "of a near-sighted frog. It's those ridiculous glasses. Why do you wear them?"

"To keep the sun out of my eyes. "

"And the moon at night, I suppose. They're not for purposes ofdisguise?"

"Disguise! What makes you say that?" he asked quickly. 

"Don't bark. They'd be most effective. And they certainly giveyour face a truly weird expression, in addition to its otherdetriments. "

"If you don't like my face, consider my figure, " he suggestedoptimistically. "What's the matter with that?"

"Stumpy, " she pronounced. "You're all in a chunk. It does looklike a practical sort of a chunk, though. "

"Don't you like it?" he asked anxiously. 

"Oh, well enough of its kind. " She lifted her voice and chanted:--

 "He was stubby and square, But SHE didn't much care. 

"There's a verse in return for yours. Mine's adapted, though. Examination's over. Wait. Don't sit down. Now, tell me youropinion of me. "

"Very musical. "

"I'm not musical at all. "

"Oh, I'm considering you as a VOICE. "

"I'm tired of being just a voice. Look up here. Do, " she pleaded. "Turn upon me those lucent goggles. "

 When orbs like thine the soul disclose, Tee-deedle-deedle-dee. 

Don't be afraid. One brief fleeting glance ere we part. "

"No, " he returned positively. "Once is enough. "

"On behalf of my poor traduced features, I thank you humbly. Didthey prove as bad as you feared?"

"Worse. I've hardly forgotten yet what you look like. Your kind offace is bad for business. "

"What is business?"

"Haven't I told you? I'm a scientist. "

"Well, I'm a specimen. No beetle that crawls or creeps or hobbles, or does whatever beetles are supposed to do, shows any greatervariation from type--I heard a man say that in a lecture once--than I do. Can't I interest you in my case, O learned one? Theproper study of mankind is--"

"Woman. Yes, I know all about that. But I'm a groundling. "

"Mr. Beetle Man, " she said, in a tremulous voice, "the rock ismoving. "

"I don't feel it. Though it might be a touch of earthquake. Wehave 'em often. "

"Not your rock. The tarantula rock, I mean. "

"Nonsense! A hundred tarantulas couldn't stir it. "

"Well, it seems to be moving, and that's just as bad. I'm tiredand I'm lonely. Oh, please, Professor Scarab, have I got to fallon your neck again to introduce a little human companionship intothis conversation?"

"Caesar! No! My shoulder's still lame. What do you want, anyway?"

"I want to know about you and your work. ALL about you. "

"Humph! Well, at present I'm making some microscopical studies ofinsects. That's the reason for these glasses. The light is soharsh in these latitudes that it affects the vision a trifle, andevery trifle counts in microscopy. "

"Does the microscope add charm to the beetle?"

"Some day I'll show you, if you like. Just now it's the flea, thenational bird of Caracuna. "

"The wicked flea?"

"Nobody knows how wicked until he has studied him on his nativeheath. "

"Doesn't the flea have something to do with plague? They saythere's plague in the city now. You knew all about the Dutch. Doyou know anything about the plague?"

"You've been listening to bolas. "

"What's a bola?"

"A bola is information that somebody who is totally ignorant ofthe facts whispers confidentially in your ear with the assurancethat he knows it to be authentic--in other words, a lie. "

"Then there isn't any plague down under those quaint, old, red-tiled roofs?"

"Who ever knows what's going on under those quaint, old, red-tiledroofs? No foreigner, certainly. "

"Even I can feel the mystery, little as I've seen of the place, "said the girl. 

"Oh, that's the Indian of it. The tiled roofs are Spanish; thespeech is Spanish; but just beneath roof and speech, the life andthought are profoundly and unfathomably Indian. "

"Not with all the Caracunans, surely. Take Mr. Raimonda, forinstance. "

"Ah, that's different. Twenty families of the city, perhaps, arepure-bloods. There are no finer, cleaner fellows anywhere than thewell-bred Caracunans. They are men of the world, Europeaneducated, good sportsmen, straight, honorable gentlemen. Unfortunately not they, but a gang of mongrel grafters control thepolitics of the country. "

"For a hermit of science, you seem to know a good deal of whatgoes on. By the way, Mr. Raimonda called on me--on us lastevening. "

"So he mentioned. Rather serious, that, you know. "

"Far from it. He was very amusing. "

"Doubtless, " commented the other dryly. "But it isn't fair to playthe game with one who doesn't know the rules. Besides, what willMr. Preston Fairfax--"

"For a professedly shy person, you certainly take a ratherintimate tone. "

"Oh, I'm shy only under the baleful influence of the feminine eye. Besides, you set the note of intimacy when you analyzed mypersonal appearance. And finally, I have a warm regard for youngRaimonda. "

"So have I, " she returned maliciously. "Aren't you jealous?"

He laughed. 

"Please be a little bit jealous. It would be so flattering. "

"Jealousy is another tradition in which I don't believe. "

"Then I can't flirt with you at all?" she sighed. "After takingall this long hot walk to see you!"

PLOP! The sound punctured the silence sharply, though not loudly. Some large fruit pod bursting on a distant tree might have madesuch a report. 

"What was that?" asked the girl curiously. 

"That? Oh, that was a revolver shot, " he remarked. 

"Aren't you casual! Do revolver shots mean nothing to you?"

"That one shakes my soul's foundations. " His tone by no meansindicated an inner cataclysm. "It may mean that I must excusemyself and leave. Just a moment, please. "

Passing across the line of her vision, he disappeared to the left. When she next heard his voice, it was almost directly above her. 

"No, " it said. "There's no hurry. The flag's not up. "

"What flag?"

"The flag in my compound. "

"Can you see your home from here?"

"Yes; there's a ledge on the cliff that gives a direct view. "

"I want to come up and see it. "

"You can't. It's much too hard a climb. Besides, there are rockdevilkins on the way. "

"And when you hear a shot, you go up there for messages?"

"Yes; it's my telephone system. "

"Who's at the other end?"

"The peon who pretends to look after the quinta for me. "

"A man! No man can keep a house fit to live in, " she saidscornfully. 

"I know it; but he's all I've got in the servant line. "

"How far is the house from here?"

"A mile, by air. Seven by trail from town. "

"Isn't it lonely?"

"Yes. "

Suddenly she felt very sorry for him. There was such a quiet, conclusive acceptance of cheerlessness in the monosyllable. 

"How soon must you go back?"

"Oh, not for an hour, at least. "

"If it's a call, it must be an important one, so far fromcivilization. "

"Not necessarily. Don't you ever have calls that are notimportant?"

No answer came. 

"Miss Brewster!" he called. "Oh, Voice! You haven't gone?"

Still no response. 

"That isn't fair, " he complained, making his way swiftly down, andsatisfying himself by a peep about the angle commanding her pointof the rock that she had, indeed, vanished. Sadly he descended tohis own nook--and jumped back with a half-suppressed yell. 

"You needn't jump out of your skin on my account, " said Miss PollyBrewster, with a gracious smile. "I'm not a devilkin. "

"You are! That is--I mean--I--I--beg your pardon. I--I--"

"The poor man's having another bashful fit, " she observed, withmalicious glee. "Did the bold, bad, forward American minx scare italmost out of its poor shy wits?"

"You--you startled me. "

"No!" she exclaimed, in wide-eyed mock surprise. "Who would havesupposed it? You didn't expect me down here, did you?"

Thereupon she got a return shock. 

"Yes, I did, " he said; "sooner or later. "

"Don't fib. Don't pretend that you knew I was here. "

"W-w-well, no. Not just now. B-b-but I knew you'd come if--if--ifI pretended I didn't want you to long enough. "

"Young and budding scientist, " said she severely, "you're a gaydeceiver. Is it because you have known me in some former existencethat you are able thus accurately to read my character?"

"Well, I knew you wouldn't stay up there much longer. "

"I'm angry at you; very angry at you. That is, I would be if itweren't that you really didn't mean it when you said that youreally didn't want to see my face again. "

"Did any one ever see your face once without wanting to see itagain?"

"Ah, bravo!" She clapped her hands gayly. "Marvelous improvementunder my tutelage! Where, oh, where is your timidity now?"

"I--I--I forgot, " he stammered, "As long as I don't think, I'm allright. Now, you--you--you've gone and spoiled me. "

"Oh, the pity of it! Let's find some mild, impersonal topic, then, that won't embarrass you. What do you do under the shadow of thisrock, in a parched land?"

"Work. Besides, it isn't a parched land. Look on this side. "

Half a dozen steps brought her around the farther angle, where, hidden in a growth of shrubbery, lay a little pool of fairyloveliness, "That's my outdoor laboratory. "

"A dreamery, I'd call it. May I sit down? Are there devilkinshere? There's an elfkin, anyway, " she added, as a silvered dragon-fly hovered above her head inquisitively before darting away onhis own concerns. 

"One of my friends and specimens. I'm studying his methods ofaviation with a view to making some practical use of what I learn, eventually. "

"Really? Are you an inventor, too? I'm crazy about aviation. "

"Ah, then you'll be interested in this, " he said, now quite at hisease. "You know that the mosquito is the curse of the tropics. "

"Of other places, as well. "

"But in the tropics it means yellow fever, Chagres fever, andother epidemic illness. Now, the mosquito, as you doubtlessrealize, is a monoplane. "

"A monoplane?" repeated the girl, in some puzzlement. "How amonoplane?"

"I thought you claimed some knowledge of aviation. Its wings areall on one plane. The great natural enemy of the mosquito is thedragon-fly, one of which just paid you a visit. Now, modernwarfare has taught us that the most effective assailant of themonoplane is a biplane. You know that. "

"Y-y-yes, " said the girl doubtfully. 

"Therefore, if we can breed a biplane dragonfly in sufficientnumbers, we might solve the mosquito problem at small expense. "

"I don't know much about science, " she began, "but I should hardlyhave supposed--"

"It's curious how nature varies the type of aviation, " hecontinued dreamily. "Now, the pigeon is, of course, a Zeppelin;whereas the sea urchin is obviously a balloon; and the thistledownan undirigible--"

"You're making fun of me!" she accused, with sharp enlightenment. 

"What else have you done to me ever since we met?" he inquiredmildly. 

"Now I AM angry! I shall go home at once. "

A second far-away PLOP! set a period to her decision. 

"So shall I, " said he briskly. 

"Does that signal mean hurry up?" she asked curiously. 

"Well, it means that I'm wanted. You go first. When will you comeagain?"

"Not at all. "

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course. I'm angry. Didn't I tell you that? I don't permitpeople to make fun of me. Besides, you must come and see me next. You owe me two calls. Will you?"

"I--I--don't know. "

"Afraid?"

"Rather. "

"Then you must surely come and conquer this cowardice. Will youcome to-morrow?"

"No; I don't think so. "

Miss Brewster opened wide her eyes upon him. She was littleaccustomed to have her invitations, which she issued rather in themanner of royal commands, thus casually received. Had the offenderbeen any other of her acquaintance, she would have dropped thematter and the man then and there. But this was a differentspecies. Graceful and tactful he might not be, but he was honest. 

"Why?" she said. 

"I've got something more important to do. "

"You're reverting to type sadly. What is it that's so important?"

"Work. "

"You can work any time. "

"No. Unfortunately I have to eat and sleep sometimes. "

The implication she accepted quite seriously. 

"Are you really as busy as all that? I'm quite conscience-strickenover the time I've wasted for you. "

"Not wasted at all. You've cheered me up. "

"That's something. But you won't come to the city to be cheeredup?"

"Yes, I will. When I get time. "

"Perhaps you won't find me at home. "

"Then I'll wait. "

"Good-bye, then, " she laughed, "until your leisure day arrives. "

She climbed the rock, stepping as strongly and surely as a litheanimal. At the top, the spirit of roguery, ever on her lips andeyes, struck in and possessed her soul. 

"O disciple of science!" she called. 

"Well?"

"Can you see me?"

"Not from here. "

"Good! I'm a Voice again. So don't be timid. Will you answer aquestion?"

"I've answered a hundred already. One more won't hurt. "

"Have you ever been in love?"

"What?"

"Don't I speak plainly enough? Have--you--ever--been--in--love?"

"With a woman?"

"Why, yes, " she railed. "With a woman, of course. I don't meanwith your musty science. "

"No. "

"Well, you needn't be violent. Have you ever been in love withANYTHING?"

"Perhaps. "

"Oh, perhaps!" she taunted. "There are no perhapses in that. Withwhat?"

"With what every man in the world is in love with once in hislife, " he replied thoughtfully. 

She made a little still step forward and peeped down at him. Hestood leaning against the face of the rock, gazing out over thehot blue Caribbean, his hat pushed back and his absurd gogglesfirm and high on his nose. His words and voice were inpreposterous contrast to his appearance. 

"Riddle me your riddle, " she commanded. "What is every man in lovewith once in his life?"

"An ideal. "

"Ah! And your ideal--where do you keep it safe from the commongaze?"

"I tether it to my heart--with a single hair, " said the man below. 

"Oh, " commented Miss Brewster, in a changed tone. And, again, "Oh, " just a little blankly. "I wish I hadn't asked that, " sheconfessed silently to herself, after a moment. 

Still, the spirit of reckless experimentalism pressed her onward. 

"That's a peril to the scientific mind, you know, " she warned. "Suppose your ideal should come true?"

"It won't, " said he comfortably. 

Miss Brewster's regrets sensibly mitigated. 

"In that case, of course, your career is safe from accident, " sheremarked. 

He moved out into the open. 

"Mr. Beetle Man, " she called, He looked up and saw her with her chin cupped in her hand, regarding him thoughtfully. 

"I'm NOT just a casual acquaintance, " she said suddenly. "That is, if you don't want me to be. "

"That's good, " was his hearty comment. "I'm glad you like mebetter than you did at first. "

"Oh, I'm not so sure that I like you, exactly. But I'm coming tohave a sort of respectful curiosity about you. What lies underthat beetle shell of yours, I wonder?" she mused, in a halfbreath. 

Whether or not he heard the final question she could not tell. Hesmiled, waved his hand, and disappeared. Below, she watched themotion of the bush-tops where the shrubbery was parted by theprogress of his sturdy body down the long slope. 

V

AN UPHOLDER OF TRADITIONS

One day passes much like another in Caracuna City. The sun risesblandly, grows hot and angry as it climbs the slippery polishedvault of the heavens, and coasts down to its rest in a pleased andmild glow. From the squat cathedral tower the bells clang andjangle defiance to the Adversary, temporarily drowning out thestreet tumult in which the yells of the lottery venders, thebraying of donkeys, the whoops of the cabmen, and the blaring ofthe little motor cars with big horns, combine to render Caracunathe noisiest capital in the world. Through the saddle-coloredhordes on the moot ground of the narrow sidewalks moves anoccasional Anglo-Saxon resident, browned and sallowed, on his wayto the government concession that he manages; a less occasionalAnglo-Saxoness, browned and marked with the seal that the tropicsput upon every woman who braves their rigors for more than a briefperiod; and a sprinkling of tourists in groups, flying on cheek, brow, and nose the stark red of their newness to the climate. 

Not of this sorority Miss Polly Brewster. Having blithe regard toher duty as an ornament of this dull world, she had tempered thesun to the foreign cuticle with successively diminishing layers ofveils, to such good purpose that the celestial scorcher had butkissed her graduated brownness to a soft glow of color. Not alonein appreciation of her external advantages was Miss Brewster. Suchas it was, --and it had its qualities, albeit somewhatunformulated, --Caracuna society gave her prompt welcome. Therewere teas and rides and tennis at the little club; there wereagreeable, presentable men and hospitable women; and always therewas Fitzhugh Carroll, suave, handsome, gentle, a polished man ofthe world among men, a courteous attendant to every woman, butalways with a first thought for her. Was it sheer perversity ofcharacter, that elfin perversity so shrewdly divined by the hermitof the mountain, that put in her mind, in this far corner of theworld, among these strange people, the thought:

"All men are alike, and Fitz, for all that he's so different andthe best of them, is the MOST alike. "

Which paradox, being too much for her in the heat of the day, sheput aside in favor of the insinuating thought of her beetle man. Whatever else he might or might not be, he wasn't alike. She wasby no means sure that she found this difference either admirableor amiable. But at least it was interesting. 

Moreover, she was piqued. For four days had passed and the reclusehad not returned her call. True, there had come to her hotel awicker full of superb wild tree blooms, and, again, a tiny box, cunning in workmanship of scented wood, containing what at firstglance she had taken to be a jewel, until she saw that it was atiny butterfly with opalescent wings, mounted on a silver wire. But with them had come no word or token of identification. Perhapsthey weren't from the queer and remote person at all. Very likelyMr. Raimonda had sent them; or Fitzhugh Carroll was adding secretattention to his open homage; or they might even be a furtherpeace offering from the Hochwald secretary. 

That occasionally too festive diplomat had, indeed, made amendsboth profound and, evidently, sincere. Soliciting the kind officesof both Sherwen and Raimonda, he had presented himself, undertheir escort, stiff and perspiring in his full official regalia, before Mr. Brewster; then before his daughter, whose solemnity, presently breaking down before his painfully rehearsed English, dissolved in fluent French, setting him at ease and making him herslave. Poor penitent Von Plaanden even apologized to Carroll, fortunately not having heard of the American's threat, and made amost favorable impression upon that precisian. 

"Intoxicated, he may be a rough, Miss Polly, " Carroll confided tothe girl. "But sober, the man is a gentleman. He feels very badlyabout the whole affair. Offered to your father to report it allthrough official channels and attach his resignation. "

"Not for worlds!" cried Miss Polly. "The poor man was half asleep. And Mr. Bee--Mr. Perkins DID jog him rather sharply. "

"Yes. Von Plaanden asked my advice as an American about hisattitude toward Cluff and Perkins. "

"I hope you told him to let the whole thing drop. "

"Exactly what I did. I explained about Cluff; that he was a verygood fellow, but of a different class, and probably wouldn't givethe thing another thought. "

"And Mr. Perkins?"

"Von Plaanden wanted to challenge him, if he could find him. Isuggested that he leave me to deal with Mr. Perkins. After somediscussion, he agreed. "

"Oh! And what are you going to do with him?"

"Find him first, if I can. "

"I can tell you where. " Carroll stared at her, astonished. "But Idon't think I will. "

"He announced his intention of keeping out of my way. The man hasno sense of shame. "

"You probably scared the poor lamb out of his wits, fire-eaterthat you are. "

Carroll would have liked to think so, but an innate sense ofjustice beneath his crust of prejudice forbade him to accept thisjudgment. 

"The strange part of it is that he doesn't impress me as beingafraid. But there is certainly something very wrong with thefellow. A man who will deliberately desert a woman in distress"--Carroll's manner expanded into the roundly rhetorical--"whateverelse he may be, cannot be a gentleman. "

"There might have been mitigating circumstances. "

"No circumstances could excuse such an action. And, after that, the fellow had the effrontery to send you a message. "

"Me? What was it?" asked Miss Polly quickly. 

"I don't know. I didn't let him finish. I forbade his evenmentioning your name. "

"Indeed!" cried the girl, in quick dudgeon. "Don't you think youare taking a great deal upon yourself, Fitz? What do you reallyknow about Mr. Perkins, anyway, that you judge him sooffhandedly?"

"Very little, but enough, I think. And I hardly think you knowmore. "

"Then you're wrong. I do. "

"You KNOW this man?"

"Yes; I do. "

"Does your father approve of--"

"Never mind my father! He has confidence enough in me to let mejudge of my own friends. "

"Friends?" Carroll's handsome face clouded and reddened. "If I hadknown that he was a friend of yours, Miss Polly, I never wouldhave spoken as I did. I'm most sincerely sorry, " he added, withgrave courtesy. 

The girl's color deepened under the brown. 

"He isn't exactly a friend, " she admitted. "I've just met andtalked with him a few times. But your judgment seemed so unfair, on such a slight basis. "

"I'm sorry I can't reverse my judgment, " said the Southernerstiffly, "But I know of only one standard for those matters. "

"That's just your trouble. " Her eyes took on a cold gleam as shescanned the perfection and finish of the man before her. "Fitzhugh, do you wear ready-made clothing?"

"Of course not, " he answered, in surprise at this turn. 

"Your suits are all made to order?"

"Yes, Miss Polly. "

"And your shirts?"

"Yes, and shoes, and various other things. " He smiled. 

"Why do you have them specially made?"

"Beeause they suit me better, and I can afford it. "

"It's really because you want them individualized for you, isn'tit?"

"Yes; I suppose so. "

"Then why do you always get your mental clothes ready-made?"

"I don't think I understand, Miss Polly, " he said gently. 

"It seems to me that all your ideas and estimates and standardsare of stock pattern, " she explained relentlessly. "Inside, you'reas just exactly so as a pair of wooden shoes. Can't you see thatyou can't judge all men on the same plane?"

"I see that you're angry with me, and I see that I'm beingpunished for what I said about--about Mr. Perkins. If I'd knownthat you took any interest in him, I'd have bitten my tongue intwo before speaking as I did. As for the message, if you wish it, I'll go to him--"

"Oh, that doesn't matter, " she interrupted. 

"This much I can say, in honesty, " continued the Southerner, withan effort: "I had a talk, almost an encounter, with him in theplaza, and I don't believe he is the coward I thought him. "

His intent to be fair to the object of his scorn was so genuinethat his critic felt a swift access of compunction. 

"Oh, Fitz, " she said sweetly, "you're not to blame. I should havetold you. And you're honest and loyal and a gentleman. Only I wishsometimes that you weren't quite so awfully gentlemanly agentleman. "

The Southerner made a gesture of despair. 

"If I could only understand you, Miss Polly!"

"Don't hope it. I've never yet understood myself. But there's asympathy in me for the under dog, and this Mr. Perkins seems asort of helpless creature. Yet in another way he doesn't seemhelpless at all. Quite the reverse. Oh, dear! I'm tired ofPerkins, Perkins, Perkins! Let's talk about something pleasanter--like the plague. "

"What's that about Perkins?" Galpy had entered the drawing-roomwhere the conversation had been carried on, and now crossed overto them. "I'll tell you a good one on the little blighteh. D' youknow what they call him at the Club Amicitia since his adventureon the street car, Miss Brewster?"

"What?"

"'The Unspeakable Perk. ' Rippin', ain't it? Like 'The UnspeakableTurk, ' you know. "

Despite herself, Polly's lips twitched; in some ways he WASunspeakable. 

"They've nicknamed him that because of his trying to help me, andthen--leaving?" she asked. 

"Oh, not entirely. There's other things. He's a nahsty, stand-offish way with him, you know. Don't-want-to-know-yeh trick. Wouldn't-speak-to-yeh-if-I-could-help-it twist to his face. 'TheUnspeakable Perk. ' Stands him right, I should say. There's otherreasons, too. "

"What are they?"

She saw a quick, warning frown on Carroll's sharply turned face. Galpy noted it, too, and was lost in confusion. 

"Oh--ah--just gossip--nothing at all. I say, Miss Brewster, therailway--I'm in the Ferrocarril-del-Norte office, you know--hasoffered your party a special on an hour's notice, any time youwant it. "

"That's most kind of your road, Mr. Galpy. But why should we wantit?"

"Things might be getting a bit ticklish any day now. I've justtaken the message from the manager to your father. "

The young Englishman took his leave, and Polly Brewster went toher room, to freshen up for luncheon, carrying with her thesobriquet she had just heard. Certainly, applied to its subject, it had a mucilaginous consistency. It stuck. 

"'The Unspeakable Perk, '" she repeated, with a little chuckle. "IfI had a month to train him in, eh, what a speakable Perk I'd makehim! I'd make him into a Perk that would sit up and speak when Ilifted my little finger. " She considered this. "I'm not so sure, "she concluded, more doubtfully. "How can one tell through thosehorrid glasses, particularly when one doesn't see him for days anddays?"

Without moving, she might, however, have seen him forthwith, forat that precise and particular moment, the Unspeakable Perk was inplain sight of her window, on a bench in the corner of the plaza, engaged in light conversation with a legless and philosophicalbeggar whom he had just astonished by the presentation of a wholebolivar, of the value of twenty cents gold. 

After she had finished luncheon and returned to her room, he wasstill there. Not until the mid-heat of the afternoon, however, didshe observe, first with puzzlement, then with a start ofrecognition, the patiently rounded brown back of the forward-leaning figure in the corner. Greatly wroth was Miss PollyBrewster. For some hours--two, at least--the man to keep tryst andwager with whom she had tramped up miles of mountain road had beenin town and hadn't called upon her! Truly was he an UnspeakablePerk!

Wasn't there possibly a mistake somewhere, though? A second peepat the far-away back interpreted into the curve a suggestion ofresigned waiting. Maybe he had called, after all. Thought beingusually with Miss Brewster the mother of the twins, Determinationand Action, she slipped downstairs and inquired of the threeguardians of the door, in such Spanish as she could muster, whether a Mr. Perkins, wearing large glasses--this in theuniversal sign manual--had been to see her that day. 

"Si, Senorita"--he had. 

Why, then, hadn't his name been brought to her?

Extended hands and up-shrugged shoulders that might mean eitherapology or incomprehension. 

Straightway Miss Brewster pinned a hat upon her brown head at analtogether casual and heart-distracting angle and sallied downinto the tesselated bowl of the park. Quite unconscious of herapproach, until she was close upon him, her objective chattedfluently with the legless one, until she spoke quietly, almost inhis ear. Then it was only by a clutch at the bench back that hesaved himself from disaster on his return to earth. 

"Wh--wh--what--wh--where--how did you come here?" he stuttered. 

"Now, now, don't be alarmed, " she admonished. "Shut your eyes, draw a deep breath, count three. And, as soon as you are readyI'll give you a talisman against social panic. Are you ready?"

"Y-yes. "

"Very well. Whenever I come upon you suddenly, you mustn't try tojump up into a tree as you did just now--"

"I didn't!"

"Oh, yes. Or burrow under a rock, as you did the other day--"

"Miss B-B-Brewster--"

"Wait until I've finished. You must turn your thoughts firmly uponyour science, until you've recovered equilibrium and the power ofhuman speech. "

"But when you jump at me that way, I c-c-can't think of anythingbut you. "

"That's where the charm comes in. As soon as you see me or hear meapproaching, you must repeat, quite slowly, this scientificincantation. " She beat time with a pink and rhythmic finger as shechanted:--

 "Scarab, tarantula, doodle-bug, flea. "

The beggar rapidly made the sign that protects one from theinfluence of the malign and supernatural. The scientist scowled. 

"Repeat it!" she commanded. 

"There is no such insect as a doodle-bug, " he protested feebly. 

"Isn't there? I thought I heard you mention it in yourconversation with Mr. Carroll the other night. "

"You put that into my head, " he accused. 

"Truly? Then life is indeed real and earnest. To have introducedsomething unscientific into that compendium of science--there'striumph enough for any ambition. Besides, see how beautifully itscans. "

Again she beat time, and again the beggar crooked defensivefingers as she declaimed:--

 "SCAR-ab, tar-ANT-u-la, DOO-dle-bug, FLEA!"

Homeric, I call it. Perhaps you think you could improve on it. "

"Would you mind substituting 'neuropter' in the third strophe?" heventured. "It would be just as good as 'doodle-bug, ' and more--more accurate. "

"What's a neuropter? You didn't make him up for the occasion?"

"Heaven forbid! The dragon-fly is a neuropter. The dragon-flywe're going to breed to a biplane, you know, " he reminded herslyly. 

"Indeed! Well, I shall stick to my doodle-bug. He's moreeuphonious. Now, repeat it. "

"Let me off this time, " he pleaded. "I'm all right--quiterecovered. It's only at the start that it's so bad. "

"Very well, " she agreed. "But you're not to forget it. And nexttime we meet you're to be sure and say it over until you're sane. "

"Sane!" he said resentfully. "I'm as sane as any one you know. It's the job of KEEPING sane in this madhouse of the tropicsthat's almost driven me crazy. "

"Lovely!" she approved. "Well, now that you've recovered, I'lltell you what I came out to say. I'm sorry that I missed you. "

"Missed me?" he repeated. "Oh, you have missed me, then? That'snice. You see, I've been so busy for the last three or four days--"

"No; I haven't missed you a bit, " she declared indignantly. "Theconceit of the man!"

"But you said you w-w-were sorry you'd--"

"Don't be wholly a beetle! I meant I was sorry not to see you whenyou came to call on me this morning. "

"I didn't come to call on you this morning. "

"No? The boy at the door said he'd seen you, or somethinganswering to your description. "

"So he did. I came to see your father. He was out. "

"What time?"

"From eleven on. "

"Father? No, I don't think so. "

"His secretary came down and told me so, or sent word each time. "

She smiled pityingly at him. 

"Of course. That's what a secretary is for. "

"To tell lies?"

"White lies. You see, dad is a very busy man, and an importantman, and many people come to see him whom he hasn't time to see. So, unless he knew your business, he would naturally be 'out' toyou. "

The corners of the young man's rather sensitive mouth flattened outperceptibly. 

"Ah, I see. My mistake. Living in countries where, however queerthe people may be, they at least observe ordinary humancourtesies, one forgets--if one ever knew. "

"What did you want of dad?"

"Oh, to borrow four dollars of him, of course, " he replied dryly. 

"You needn't be angry at me. You see, dad's time is valuable. "

"Indeed? To whom?"

"Why, to himself, of course. "

"Oh, well, my time--However, that doesn't matter. I haven't whollywasted it. " He glanced toward the beggar, who was profoundlyregarding the cathedral clock. 

"If you like, I'll get you an interview with dad, " she offeredmagnanimously. 

"Me? No, I thank you, " he said crisply. "I'm not patient ofunnecessary red tape. "

Miss Brewster looked at him in surprise. It was borne in upon her, as she looked, that this man was not accustomed to being lightlyregarded by other men, however busy or important; that his ownconcerns in life were quite as weighty to him, and in his esteem, perhaps, to others, as were the interests of any magnate; andthat, man to man, there would be no shyness or indecision orpurposelessness anywhere in his make-up. 

"If it was important, " she began hesitantly, "my father would be--"

"It was of no importance to me, " he cut in. "To others--Perhaps Icould see some one else of your party. "

"Well, here I am. " She smiled. "Why won't I do?"

Behind the obscuring disks she could feel his glance read her. Thegrimness at the mouth's corners relaxed. 

"I really don't know why you shouldn't. "

"Dad says I'd have made a man of affairs, " she remarked. 

"Why, it's just this. You should be planning to leave thiscountry. "

Miss Brewster bewailed her harsh lot with drooping lip. 

"Every one wants to drive me away!"

"Who else?"

"That railroad man, Mr. Galpy, was offering us special inducementsto leave, in the form of special trains any time we liked. Itisn't hospitable. "

"A jail is hospitable. But one doesn't stay in it when one can getout. "

"If Caracuna were the jail and I the 'one, ' one might. I quitelove it here. "

He made a sharp gesture of annoyance. 

"Don't be childish, " he said. 

"Childish? You come down like Freedom from the mountain heights, and unfurl your warnings to the air, and complain of lost time andall that sort of thing, and what does it all amount to?" shedemanded, with spirit. "That we should sail away, when you knowperfectly well that the Dutch won't let us sail away! Childish, indeed! Don't you be BEETLISH!"

"There's a way out, without much risk, but some discomfort. Youcould strike south-east to the Bird Reefs, take a small boat, andget over to the mainland. As soon as the blockade is off, theyacht can take your luggage around. The trip would be rough foryou, but not dangerous. Not as dangerous as staying here may be. "

"Do you really think it so serious?"

"Most emphatically. "

"Will you come with us and show us the way?" she inquired, gazingwith exaggerated appeal into his goggles. 

"I? No. "

"What shall you do?"

"Stick. "

"Pins through scarabs, " she laughed, "while beneath you Caracunariots and revolutes and massacres foreigners. Nero with his fiddlewas nothing to you. "

"Miss Brewster, I'm afraid you are suffering from a misplacedsense of humor. Will you believe me when I tell you that I havecertain sources of information in local matters both serviceableand reliable?"

"You seem to have bet on a certainty in the Dutch blockadematter. "

"Well, it's equally certain that there is bubonic plague here. "

"A bola. You told me so yourself. "

"Perhaps there was nothing to be gained then by letting you know, as you were bottled up, with no way out. Now, through the goodoffices of a foreign official, who, of course, couldn't afford toappear, this opportunity to reach the mainland is open to you. "

"Had you anything to do with that?" she inquired suspiciously. 

"Oh, the official is a friend of mine, " he answered carelessly. 

"And you really believe that there is an epidemic of plague here?Don't you think that I'd make a good Red Cross nurse?"

His voice was grave and rather stern. 

"You've never seen bubonic plague, " he said, "or you wouldn't jokeabout it. "

"I'm sorry. But it wasn't wholly a joke. If we were really coopedup with an epidemic, I'd volunteer. What else would there be todo?"

"Nothing of the sort, " he cried vehemently. "You don't know whatyou're talking about. "

"Anyway, isn't the wonderful Luther Pruyn on his way to exorcisethe demon, or something of the sort?"

"What about Luther Pruyn? Who says he's coming here?"

"It's the gossip of the diplomatic set and the clubs. He's thefavorite mystery of the day. "

"Well, if he does come, it won't improve matters any, for thefirst case he verifies he'll clap on a quarantine that a mousecouldn't creep through. I know something of the Pruyn method. "

"And don't wholly approve it, I judge. "

"It may be efficacious, but it's extremely inconvenient at times. "

Again the cathedral clock boomed. 

"See how I've kept you from your own affairs!" cried Miss Pollycontritely. "What are you going to do now? Go back to yourmountains?"

"Yes. As soon as you tell me that your father will go out by thereefs. "

"Do you expect him to make up his mind, on five minutes' notice, to abandon his yacht?"

"I thought great magnates were supposed to be men of instant andunalterable decisions. I don't know the type. "

"Anyway, dad has gone out. I saw him drive away. Wouldn't to-morrow do?"

"Why, yes; I suppose so. "

"I'll tell you. The Voice will report at the rock to-morrow, atfour. "

"No. "

"What a very uncompromising 'no'!"

"I can't be there at four. Make it five. "

"What a very arbitrary beetle man! Well, as I've wasted so much ofyour time to-day, I'll accept your orders for to-morrow. "

"And please impress your father with the extreme advisability ofyour getting off this island. "

"Yes, sir, " she said meekly. "You'll be most awfully glad to getrid of us, won't you?"

"Very greatly relieved. "

"And a little bit sorry?"

The begoggled face turned toward her. There was a perceptibletensity in the line of the jaw. But the beetle man made no answer. 

"Now, if I could see behind those glasses, " said Miss PollyBrewster to her wicked little self, "I'd probably BITE myselfrather than say it again. Just the same--And a little bit sorry?"she persisted aloud. 

"Does that matter?" said the man quietly. 

Miss Polly Brewster forthwith bit herself on her pink and waywardtongue. 

"Don't think I'm not grateful, " she employed that chastened memberto say. "I am, most deeply. So will father be, even if he decidesnot to leave. I'm afraid that's what he will decide. "

"He mustn't. "

"Tell him that yourself. "

"I will, if it becomes necessary. "

"Let me be present at the interview. Most people are afraid ofdad. Perhaps you'd be, too. "

"I could always run away, " he remarked, unsmiling. "You know howwell I do it. "

"I must do it now myself, and get arrayed for the daily teasacrifice. Au revoir. "

"Hasta manana, " he said absently. 

She had turned to go, but at the word she came slowly back a paceor two, smiling. 

"What a strange beetle man you are!" she said softly. "I have noother friends like you. You ARE a friend, aren't you, in yourqueer way?" She did not wait for an answer, but went on: "Youdon't come to see me when I ask you. You don't send me any word. You make me feel that, compared to your concerns with beetles andflies, I'm quite hopelessly unimportant. And yet here I find yougiving up your own pursuits and wasting your time to plan andwatch and think for us. "

"For you, " he corrected. 

"For me, " she accepted sweetly. "What an ungrateful little pig youmust think me! But truly inside I appreciate it and thank you, andI think--I feel that perhaps it amounts to a lot more than Iknow. "

He made a gesture of negation. 

"No great thing, " he said. "But it's the best I can do, anyway. Doyou remember what the mediaeval mummer said, when he came bearinghis poor homage?"

"No. Tell it to me. "

"It runs like this: 'Lady, who art nowise bitter to those whoserve you with a good intent, that which thy servant is, that heis for you. '"

"Polly Brewster, " said the girl to herself, as she walked, slowlyand musingly, back to her room, "the busy haunts of men are moresuited to your style than the free-and-untrammeled spaces ofnature, and well you know it. But you'll go to-morrow and you'llkeep on going until you find out what is behind those brown-greengoblin spectacles. If only he didn't look so like a gnome!"

The clause conditional, introduced by the word "if, " does notalways imply a conclusion, even in the mind of the propounder. Miss Brewster would have been hard put to it to round out hersubjunctive. 

VI

FORKED TONGUES

"Pooh!" said Thatcher Brewster. 

Thatcher Brewster's "Pooh!" is generally recognized in the realmof high finance as carrying weight. It is not derisive orcontemptuous; it is dismissive. The subject of it simply ceases toexist. In the present instance, it was so mild as scarcely to stirthe smoke from his after-dinner cigar, yet it had all the intent, if not the effect, of finality. The reason why it hadn't theeffect was that it was directed at Thatcher Brewster's daughter. 

"Perhaps not quite so much 'Pooh!' as you think, " was thatdamsel's reception of the pregnant monosyllable. 

"A bug-hunter from nowhere! Don't I know that type?" said themagnate, who confounded all scientists with inventors, thecapital-seeking inventor being the bane and torment of his life. 

"He knew about the Dutch blockade. "

"Or pretended he did. I'm afraid my Pollipet has let herselfromanticize a little. "

"Romanticize!" The girl laughed. "If you could see him, dad!Romance and my poor little beetle man don't live in the sameworld. "

Out of the realm of memory, where the echoes come and go by noknown law, sounded his voice in her ear: "'That which thy servantis, that he is for you. '" Dim doubt forthwith began to cloud thebright certainty of Miss Brewster's verdict. 

"If he's gone to all the trouble that I told you of, it must bethat he has some good reason for wanting to get us safely out, "she argued to her father. 

"Perhaps he feels that his peace of mind would be more assured ifyou were in some other country, " he teased. "No, my dear, I'm notleaving a full-manned yacht in a foreign harbor and smugglingmyself out of a friendly country on the say-so of an unknownadviser, whose chief ability seems to lie in the hundred-yarddash. "

"I think that's unfair and ungrateful. If a man with a sword--"

"When I begin a row, I stay with it, " said Mr. Brewster grimly. "Quitters and I don't pull well together. "

"Then I'm to tell him 'No'?"

"Positively. "

"Not so positively at all. I shall say, 'No, thank you, ' in myvery nicest way, and say that you're very grateful andappreciative and not at all the growly old bear of a dad that youpretend to be when one doesn't know and love you. And perhaps I'llinvite him to dine here and go away on the yacht with us--"

"And graciously accept a couple of hundred thousand dollars bonus, and come into the company as first vice-president, " chuckled herfather. "And then he'll wake up and find he's been sitting on acactus. See here, " he added, with a sharpening of tone, "do yousuppose he could get a cablegram for transmission to Washingtonover to the mainland for us by this mysterious route of his?"

"Very likely. "

"You're really sure you want to go, Pollipet? This is your cruise, you know. "

"Yes, I do. "

Hitherto Miss Polly had been declaring to all and sundry, including the beetle man himself, that it was her firm intent andpleasure to stay on the island and observe the presumptivelyinteresting events that promised. That she had reversed thisdecision, on the unsolicited counsel of an extremely queerstranger, was a phenomenon the peculiarity of which did not strikeher at the time. All that she felt was a settled confidence in thebeetle man's sound reason for his advice. 

"Very good, " said Mr. Brewster. "If I can get through a message tothe State Department, they'll bring pressure to bear on the Dutch, and we can take the yacht through the blockade. It's only aquestion of finding a way to lay the matter before the Dutchauthorities, anyway. I've been making inquiries here, and I findthere's no intention of bottling up neutral pleasure craft. I daresay we could get out now. Only it's possible that the Hollandersmight shoot first and ask questions afterward. "

"It would have to be done quickly, dad. They may quarantine at anytime. "

"Dr. Pruyn ought to be here any day now. Let's leave that matterfor him. There's a man I have confidence in. "

"Mr. Perkins says that Dr. Pruyn will bottle up the port tighterthan the Dutch. "

"Let him, so long as we get out first. Now, Polly, you tell thisman Perkins that I'll pay all expenses and give him a roundhundred for himself if he'll bring me a receipt showing that mycablegram has been dispatched to Washington. "

"I don't think I'd quite like to do that, dad. He isn't the sortof man one offers money to. "

"Every one's the sort of man one offers money to--if it's enough, "retorted her father. "And a hundred dollars will look pretty bigto a scientific man. I know something about their salaries. Youtry him. "

"So far as expenses go, I will. But I won't hurt his feelings bytrying to pay him for something that he would do for friendship ornot at all. "

"Have it your own way. When is he coming in?"

"He isn't coming in. "

"Then where are you going to see him?"

"Up on the mountain trail, when I ride tomorrow afternoon. "

"With Carroll?"

"No; I'm going alone. "

"I don't quite like to have you knocking about mountain roads byyourself, though Mr. Sherwen says you're safe anywhere here. Where's that little automatic revolver I gave you?"

"In my trunk. I'll carry that if it will make you feel anyeasier. "

"Yes, do. But I can't see why you can't send word to Perkins thatI want to see him here. "

"I can. And I can guess just what his answer would be. "

"Well, guess ahead. "

"He'd tell you to go to the bad place, or its scientificequivalent. " She laughed. 

"Would he?" Mr. Brewster did not laugh. "And perhaps you'll begood enough to tell me why. "

"Because you sent word that you were out when he called. "

"Humph! I see people when _I_ want to see THEM, not when they wantto see me. "

"Then Mr. Perkins is likely to prove permanently invisible to you, if I'm any judge of character. "

"Well, well, " said Mr. Brewster impatiently, "manage it yourself. Only impress on him the necessity of getting the message on thewire. I'll write it out to-night and give it to you with the moneyto-morrow. "

After luncheon on the following day, Polly, with the cablegram andmoney in her purse and her automatic safely disposed in her belt, walked in the plaza with Carroll. The legless beggar whined atthem for alms. Handing him a quartillo, the Southerner would havepassed on, but his companion stood eyeing the mendicant. 

"Now, what can there be in that poor wreck to captivate thescientific intellect?" she marveled. 

"If you mean Mr. Perkins--" began Carroll. 

"I do. "

"Then I think perhaps the reason for some of that gentleman'sassociations will hardly stand inquiry. "

The girl turned her eyes on him and searched the handsome, seriousface. 

"Fitz, you're not the man to say that of another man without somegood reason. "

"I am not, Miss Polly. "

"You think that Mr. Perkins is not the kind of man for me to haveanything to do with?"

"I--I'm afraid he isn't. "

"Don't you think that, having gone so far, you ought to tell mewhy?"

Carroll flushed. 

"I would rather tell your father. "

"Are you implying a scandal in connection with my timid, littledried-up scientist?"

"I'm only saying, " said the other doggedly, "that there'ssomething secret and underhanded about that place of his in themountains. It's a matter of common gossip. "

The girl laughed outright. 

"The poor beetle man! Why, he's so afraid of a woman that he goesall to pieces if one speaks to him suddenly. Just to see hisexpression, I'd like to tell him that he's being scandalized byall Caracuna. "

"You're going to see him again?"

"Certainly. This afternoon. "

"I don't think you should, Miss Polly. "

"Have you any actual facts against him? Anything but casualgossip?"

"No; not yet. "

"When you have, I'll listen to you. But you couldn't make mebelieve it, anyway. Why, Fitz, look at him!"

"Take me with you, " insisted the other, "and let me ask him aquestion or two that any honorable man could answer. They don'tcall him the Unspeakable Perk for nothing, Miss Polly. "

"It's just because they don't understand his type. Nor do you, Fitz, and so you mistrust him. "

"I understand that you've shown more interest in him than in anyone you know, " said the other miserably. 

Her laugh rang as free and frank as a child's. 

"Interest? That's true. But if you mean sentiment, Fitz, afteronce having looked into the depths of those absurd goggles, canyou, COULD you think of sentiment and the beetle man in the samebreath?"

"No, I couldn't, " he confessed, relieved. "But, then, I never havebeen able to understand you, Miss Polly. "

"Therein lies my fatal charm, " she said saucily. "Now, to thebeetle man, I'm a specimen. HE understands as much as he wants to. Probably I shall never see him after to-day, anyway. He's going toget a message through for us that will deliver us from this landof bondage. "

"He can't do it--too soon for me, " declared Carroll. "And, MissPolly, you don't think the worse of me for having said behind hisback what I'm just waiting to say to his face?"

"Not a bit, " said the girl warmly. "Only I know it's nonsense. "

"I hope so, " said Carroll, quite honestly. "I would hate to thinkanything low-down of a man you'd call your friend. "

Carroll had learned more than he had told, but less than enough togive him what he considered proper evidence to lay before Polly'sfather. After some deliberation as to the point of honor involved, he decided to go to Raimonda, who, alone in Caracuna City, seemedto be on personal terms with the hermit. He found the young man inhis office. With entire frankness, Carroll stated his errand andthe reason for it. The Caracunan heard him with grave courtesy. 

"And now, senior, " concluded the American, "here's my question, and it's for you to determine whether, under the circumstances, you are justified in giving me an answer. Is there a woman livingin Mr. Perkins's quinta on the mountains?"

"I cannot answer that question, " said the other, after somedeliberation. 

"I'm sorry, " said Carroll simply. 

"I also. The more so in that my attitude may be misconstruedagainst Mr. Perkins. I am bound by confidence. "

"So I infer, " returned his visitor courteously. "Then I have onlyto ask your pardon--"

"One moment, if you please, senor. Perhaps this will serve to makeeasy your mind. On my word, there is nothing in Mr. Perkins's lifeon the mountain in any manner dishonorable or--or irregular. "

In a flash, the simple solution crossed Carroll's mind. That awoman was there, and a woman not of the servant class, couldhardly be doubted, in view of almost direct evidence fromeyewitnesses. If there was nothing irregular about her presence, it was because she was Perkins's wife. In view of Raimonda'sattitude, he did not feel free to put the direct query. Anotherquestion would serve his purpose. 

"Is it advisable, and for the best interests of Miss Brewster, that she should associate with him under the circumstances?"

The Caracunan started and shot a glance at his interlocutor thatsaid, as plainly as words, "How much do you know that you are nottelling?" had the latter not been too intent upon his own theoryto interpret it. 

"Ah, that, " said Raimonda, after a pause, --"that is anotherquestion. If it were my sister, or any one dear to me--but"--heshrugged--"views on that matter differ. "

"I hardly think that yours and mine differ, senior. I thank youfor bearing with me with so much patience. "

He went out with his suspicions hardened into certainty. 

VII

"THAT WHICH THY SERVANT IS--"

A man that you'd call your friend. Such had been FitzhughCarroll's reference to the Unspeakable Perk. With thatcharacterization in her mind. Miss Brewster let herself drift, after her suitor had left her, into a dreamy consideration of thehermit's attitude toward her. She was not prone lightly to employthe terms of friendship, yet this new and casual acquaintance hadshown a readiness to serve--not as cavalier, but as friend--nonetoo common in the experience of the much-courted and a littlespoiled beauty. Being, indeed, a "lady nowise bitter to those whoserved her with good intent, " she reflected, with a kindly lightin her eyes, that it was all part and parcel of the beetle's man'samiable queerness. 

Still musing upon this queerness, she strolled back to find hermount waiting at the corner of the plaza. In consideration of theheat she let her cream-colored mule choose his own pace, so theyproceeded quite slowly up the hill road, both absorbed inmeditation, which ceased only when the mule started an argumentabout a turn in the trail. He was a well-bred trotting mule, worth six hundred dollars in gold of any man's money, and he wasself-appreciative in knowledge of the fact. He brought a singularfirmness of purpose to the support of the negative of herproposition, which was that he should swing north from the broadinto the narrow path. When the debate was over, St. John theBaptist--this, I hesitate to state, yet must, it being the truth, was the spirited animal's name--was considerably chastened, andMiss Brewster more than a trifle flushed. She left him tied to aceiba branch at the exit from the dried creek bed, with strictinstructions not to kick, lest a worse thing befall him. MissBrewster's fighting blood was up, when, ten minutes late, becauseof the episode, she reached the summit of the rock. 

"Oh, Mr. Beetle Man, are you there?" she called. 

"Yes, Voice. You sound strange. What is it?"

"I've been hurrying, and if you tell me I'm late, I'll--I'll fallon your neck again and break it. "

"Has anything happened?"

"Nothing in particular. I've been boxing the compass with a mule. It's tiresome. "

He reflected. 

"You're not, by any chance, speaking figuratively of yourrespected parent?"

"Certainly NOT!" she disclaimed indignantly. "This was a realmule. You're very impertinent. "

"Well, you see, he was impertinent to me, saying he was out whenhe was in. What is his decision--yes or no?"

"No. "

A sharp exclamation came from the nook below. 

"Is that the entomological synonym for 'damn'?" she inquired. 

"It's a lament for time wasted on a--Well, never mind that. "

"But he wants you to carry a message by that secret route ofyours. Will you do it for him?"

"NO!"

"That's not being a very kind or courteous beetle man. "

"I owe Mr. Brewster no courtesy. "

"And you pay only where you owe? Just, but hardly amiable. Well, you owe me nothing--but--will you do it for me?"

"Yes. "

"Without even knowing what it is?"

"Yes. "

"In return you shall have your heart's desire. "

"Doubted. "

"Isn't the dearest wish of your soul to drive me out of Caracuna?"

"Hum! Well--er--yes. Yes; of course it is. "

"Very well. If you can get dad's message on the wire toWashington, he thinks the Secretary of State, who is his friend, can reach the Dutch and have them open up the blockade for us. "

"Time apparently meaning nothing to him. "

"Would it take much time?"

"About four days to a wire. "

She gazed at him in amazement. 

"And you were willing to give up four days to carry my messagethrough, 'unsight--unseen, ' as we children used to say?"

"Willing enough, but not able to. I'd have got a messenger throughwith it, if necessary. But in four days, there'll be otherobstacles besides the Dutch. "

"Quarantine?"

"Yes. "

"I thought that had to wait for Dr. Pruyn. "

"Pruyn's here. That's a secret, Miss Brewster. "

"Do you know EVERYTHING? Has he found plague?"

"Ah, I don't say that. But he will find it, for it's certainlyhere. I satisfied myself of that yesterday. "

"From your beggar friend?"

"What made you think that, O most acute observer?"

"What else would you be talking to him of, with such interest?"

"You're correct. Bubonic always starts in the poor quarters. Toknow how people die, you have to know how they live. So Icultivated my beggar friend and listened to the gossip of quickfunerals and unexplained disappearances. I'd have had some realarguments to present to Mr. Brewster if he had cared to listen. "

"He'll listen to Dr. Pruyn. They're old friends. "

"No! Are they?"

"Yes. Since college days. So perhaps the quarantine will be easierto get through than the blockade. "

"Do you think so? I'm afraid you'll find that pull doesn't workwith the service that Dr. Pruyn is in. "

"And you think that there will be quarantine within four days?"

"Almost sure to be. "

"Then, of course, I needn't trouble you with the message. "

"Don't jump at conclusions. There might be another and quickerway. "

"Wireless?" she asked quickly. 

"No wireless on the island. No. This way you'll just have to trustme for. "

"I'll trust you for anything you say you can do. "

"But I don't say I can. I say only that I'll try. "

"That's enough for me. Ready! Now, brace yourself. I'm comingdown. "

"Wh--why--wait! Can't you send it down?"

"No. Besides, you KNOW you want to see me. No use pretending, after last time. Remember your verse now, and I'll come slowly. "

Solemnly he began:--

 "Scarab, tarantula, neurop--" "'Doodle-bug, '" she prompted severely. "--doodle-bug, flea, "--

he concluded obediently. 

 "Scarab, tarantula, doodle-bug, flea. Scarab, tarantula, doodle--"

"Oof! I--I--didn't think you'd be here so soon!"

He scrambled to his feet, hardly less palpitating than on theoccasion of their first encounter. 

"Hopeless!" she mourned. "Incurable! Wanted: a miracle of St. Vitus. Do stop nibbling your hat, and sit down. "

"I don't think it's as bad as it was, " he murmured, obeying. "Onegets accustomed to you. "

"One gets accustomed to anything in time, even the eccentricitiesof one's friends. "

"Do you think I'm eccentric?"

"Do I think--Have you ever known any one who didn't think youeccentric?"

Upon this he pondered solemnly. 

"It's so long since I've stopped to consider what people think ofme. One hasn't time, you know. "

"Then one is unhuman. _I_ have time. "

"Of course. But you haven't anything else to do. "

As this was quite true, she naturally felt annoyed. 

"Knowing as you do all the secrets of my inner life, " she observedsarcastically, "of course you are in a position to judge. "

Her own words recalled Carroll's charge, and though, with thesubject of them before her, it seemed ridiculously impossible, yetthe spirit of mischief, ever hovering about her like an attendantsprite, descended and took possession of her speech. She assumed aseverely judicial expression. 

"Mr. Beetle Man, will you lay your hand upon your microscope, orwhatever else scientists make oath upon, and answer fully andtruly the question about to be put to you?"

"As I hope for a blessed release from this abode of lunacy, Iwill. "

"Mr. Beetle Man, have you got an awful secret in your life?"

So sharply did he start that the heavy goggles slipped a fractionof an inch along his nose, the first time she had ever seen themin any degree misplaced. She was herself sensibly discountenancedby his perturbation. 

"Why do you ask that?" he demanded. 

"Natural interest in a friend, " she answered lightly, but withgrowing wonder. "I think you'd be altogether irresistible if youwere a pirate or a smuggler or a revolutionary. The romanticspirit could lurk so securely behind those gloomy soul-screensthat you wear. What do you keep back of them, O dark and shroudedbeetle man?"

"My eyes, " he grunted. 

"Basilisk eyes, I'm sure. And what behind the eyes?"

"My thoughts. "

"You certainly keep them securely. No intruders allowed. But youhaven't answered my question. Have you ever murdered any one incold blood? Or are you a married man trifling with the affectionsof poor little me?"

"You shall know all, " he began, in the leisurely tone of one whocommences a long narrative. "My parents were honest, but poor. Atthe age of three years and four months, a maternal uncle, who, having been a proofreader of Abyssinian dialect stories for aladies' magazine, was considered a literary prophet, foretold thatI--"

"Help! Wait! Stop!--

 "'Oh, skip your dear uncle!' the bellman exclaimed, And impatiently tinkled his bell. "

Her companion promptly capped her verse:--

 "'I skip forty years, ' said the baker in tears, "--

"You can't, " she objected. "If you skipped half that, I don'tbelieve it would leave you much. "

"When one is giving one's life history by request, " he began, withdignity, "interruptions--"

"It isn't by request, " she protested. "I don't want your lifehistory. I won't have it! You shan't treat an unprotected andhelpless stranger so. Besides, I'm much more interested to knowhow you came to be familiar with Lewis Carroll. "

"Just because I've wasted my career on frivolous trifles likescience, you needn't think I've wholly neglected the trueinwardness of life, as exemplified in 'The Hunting of the Snark, '"he said gravely. 

"Do you know"--she leaned forward, searching his face--"I believeyou came out of that book yourself. ARE you a Boojum? Will you, unless I 'charm you with smiles and soap, '

 "'Softly and silently vanish away, And never be heard of again'?"

"You're mixed. YOU'D be the one to do that if I were a realBoojum. And you'll be doing it soon enough, anyway, " he concludedruefully. 

"So I shall, but don't be too sure that I'll 'never be heard ofagain. '"

He glanced up at the sun, which was edging behind a dark cloud, over the gap. 

"Is your raging thirst for personal information sufficientlyslaked?" he asked. "We've still fifteen or twenty minutes left. "

"Is that all? And I haven't yet given you the message!" She drewit from the bag and handed it to him. 

"Sealed, " he observed. 

The girl colored painfully. 

"Dad didn't intend--You mustn't think--" With a flash of generouswrath she tore the envelope open and held out the inclosure. "ButI shouldn't have thought you so concerned with formalities, " shecommented curiously. 

"It isn't that. But in some respects, possibly important, it wouldbe better if--" He stopped, looking at her doubtfully. 

"Read it, " she nodded. 

He ran through the brief document. 

"Yes; it's just as well that I should know. I'll leave a copy. "

Something in his accent made her scrutinize him. 

"You're going into danger!" she cried. 

"Danger? No; I think not. Difficulty, perhaps. But I think it canbe put through. "

"If it were dangerous, you'd do it just the same, " she said, almost accusingly. 

"It would be worth some danger now to get you away from greaterdanger later. See here, Miss Brewster"--he rose and stood overher--"there must be no mistake or misunderstanding about this. "

"Don't gloom at me with those awful glasses, " she said fretfully. "I feel as if I were being stared at by a hidden person. "

He disregarded the protest. 

"If I get this message through, can you guarantee that your fatherwill take out the yacht as soon as the Dutch send word to him?"

"Oh, yes. He will do that. How are you going to deliver themessage?"

Again her words might as well not have been spoken. 

"You'd better have your luggage ready for a quick start. "

"Will it be soon?"

"It may be. "

"How shall we know?"

"I will get word to you. "

"Bring it?"

He shook his head. 

"No; I fear not. This is good-bye. "

"You're very casual about it, " she said, aggrieved. "At least, itwould be polite to pretend. "

"What am I to pretend?"

"To be sorry. Aren't you sorry? Just a little bit?"

"Yes; I'm sorry. Just a little bit--at least. "

"I'm most awfully sorry myself, " she said frankly. "I shall missyou. "

"As a curiosity?" he asked, smiling. 

"As a friend. You have been a friend to us--to me, " she amendedsweetly. "Each time I see you, I have more the feeling that you'vebeen more of a friend than I know. "

"'That which thy servant is, '" he quoted lightly. But beneath thelightness she divined a pain that she could not wholly fathom. Quite aware of her power, Miss Polly Brewster was now, for one ofthe few times in her life, stricken with contrition for her use ofit. 

"And I--I haven't been very nice, " she faltered. "I'm afraid"sometimes I've been quite horrid. "

"You? You've been 'the glory and the dream. ' I shall be needingmemories for a while. And when the glory has gone, at least thedream will remain--tethered. "

"But I'm not going to be a dream alone, " she said, with wistfullightness. "It's far too much like being a ghost. I'm going to bea friend, if you'll let me. And I'm going to write to you, if youwill tell me where. You won't find it so very easy to make a merememory of me. And when you come home--When ARE you coming home?"

He shook his head. 

"Then you must find out, and let me know. And you must come andvisit us at our summer place, where there's a mountain-side thatwe can sit on, and you can pretend that our lake is the Caribbeanand hate it to your heart's content--"

"I don't believe I can ever quite hate the Caribbean again. "

"From this view you mustn't, anyway. I shouldn't like that. As forour lake, nobody could really help loving it. So you must be sureand come, won't you?"

"Dreams!" he murmured. 

"Isn't there room in the scientific life for dreams?"

"Yes. But not for their fulfillment. "

"But there will be beetles and dragon-flies on our mountain, " shewent on, conscious of talking against time, of striving to put offthe moment of departure. "You'll find plenty of work there. Do youknow, Mr. Beetle Man, you haven't told me a thing, really, aboutyour work, or a thing, really, about yourself. Is that the way totreat a friend?"

"When I undertook to spread before you the true and veracioushistory of my life, " he began, striving to make his tone light, "you would none of it. "

"Are you determined to put me off? Do you think that I wouldn'tfind the things that are real to you interesting?"

"They're quite technical, " he said shyly. 

"But they are the big things to you, aren't they? They make lifefor you?"

"Oh, yes; that, of course. " It was as if he were surprised at theneed of such a question. "I suppose I find the same excitement andadventure in research that other men find in politics, or war, ormaking money. "

"Adventure?" she said, puzzled. "I shouldn't have supposedresearch an adventurous career, exactly. "

"No; not from the outside. " His hidden gaze shifted to sweep thefar distances. His voice dropped and softened, and, when he spokeagain, she felt vaguely and strangely that he was hardly thinkingof her or her question, except as a part of the great wonder-worldsurrounding and enfolding their companioned remoteness. 

"This is my credo, " he said, and quoted, half under his breath:--

 "'We have come in search of truth, Trying with uncertain key Door by door of mystery. We are reaching, through His laws, To the garment hem of Cause. As, with fingers of the blind, We are groping here to find What the hieroglyphics mean Of the Unseen in the seen; What the Thought which underlies Nature's masking and disguise; What it is that hides beneath Blight and bloom and birth and death. '"

Other men had poured poetry into Polly Brewster's ears, and shehad thought them vapid or priggish or affected, according as theyhad chosen this or that medium. This man was different. For allhis outer grotesquery, the noble simplicity of the verse matchedsome veiled and hitherto but half-expressed quality within him, and dignified him. Miss Brewster suffered the strange but notwholly unpleasant sensation of feeling herself dwindle. 

"It's very beautiful, " she said, with an effort. "Is it MatthewArnold?"

"Nearer home. You an American, and don't know your Whittier? Thatpassage from his 'Agassiz' comes pretty near to being what lifemeans to me. Have I answered your requirements?"

"Fully and finely. "

She rose from the rock upon which she had been seated, andstretched out both hands to him. He took and held them withoutawkwardness or embarrassment. By that alone she could have knownthat he was suffering with a pain that submerged consciousness ofself. 

"Whether I see you again or not, I'll never forget you, " she saidsoftly. "You HAVE been good to me, Mr. Perkins. "

"I like the other name better, " he said. 

"Of course. Mr. Beetle Man. " She laughed a little tremulously. Abruptly she stamped a determined foot. "I'm NOT going awaywithout having seen my friend for once. Take off your glasses, Mr. Beetle Man. "

"Too much radiance is bad for the microscopical eye. "

"The sun is under a cloud. "

"But you're here, and you'd glow in the dark. "

"No; I'm not to be put off with pretty speeches. Take them off. Please!"

Releasing her hand, he lifted off the heavy and disfiguringapparatus, and stood before her, quietly submissive to her wish. She took a quick step backward, stumbled, and thrust out a handagainst the face of the giant rock for support. 

"Oh!" she cried, and again, "Oh, I didn't think you'd look likethat!"

"What is it? Is there anything very wrong with me?" he askedseriously, blinking a little in the soft light. 

"No, no. It isn't that. I--I hardly know--I expected somethingdifferent. Forgive me for being so--so stupid. "

In truth, Miss Polly Brewster had sustained a shock. She hadbecome accustomed to regard her beetle man rather more in thelight of a beetle than a man. In fact, the human side of him hadimpressed her only as a certain dim appeal to sympathy; themasculine side had simply not existed. Now it was as if he hadunmasked. The visage, so grotesque and gnomish behind itsmechanical apparatus, had given place to a wholly different andformidably strange face. The change all centered in the eyes. Theywere wide-set eyes of the clearest, steadiest, and darkest grayshe had ever met; and they looked out at her from sharply angledbrows with a singular clarity and calmness of regard. In theirlight the man's face became instinct with character in every line. Strength was there, self-control, dignity, a glint of humor in thelittle wrinkles at the corner of the mouth, and, withal a sort ofquiet and sturdy beauty. 

She had half-turned her face from him. Now, as her gaze returnedand was fixed by his, she felt a wave of blood expand her heart, rush upward into her cheeks, and press into her eyes tears ofswift regret. But now she was sorry, not for him, but for herself, because he had become remote and difficult to her. 

"Have I startled you?" he asked curiously. "I'll put them back onagain. "

"No, no; don't do that!" She rallied herself to the point oflaughing a little. "I'm a goose. You see, I've pictured you asquite different. Have you ever seen yourself in the glass withthose dreadful disguises on?"

"Why, no; I don't suppose I have, " he replied, after reflection. "After all, they're meant for use, not for ornament. "

By this time she had mastered her confusion and was able toexamine his face. Under his eyes were circles of dull gray, defined by deep lines, "Why, you're worn out!" she cried pitifully. "Haven't you beensleeping?"

"Not much. "

"You must take something for it. " The mothering instinct sprang tothe rescue. "How much rest did you get last night?"

"Let me see. Last night I did very well. Fully four hours. "

"And that is more than you average?"

"Well, yes; lately. You see, I've been pretty busy. "

"Yet you've given up your time to my wretched, unimportant littlestupid affairs! And what return have I made?"

"You've made the sun shine, " he said, "in a rather shadedexistence. "

"Promise me that you'll sleep to-night; that you won't work astroke. "

"No; I can't promise that. "

"You'll break down. You'll go to pieces. What have you got to domore important than keeping in condition?"

"As to that, I'll last through. And there's some business thatwon't wait. "

Divination came upon her. 

"Dad's message!"

"If it weren't that, it would be something else. "

Her hand went out to him, and was withdrawn. 

"Please put on your glasses, " she said shyly. 

Smiling, he did her bidding. 

"There! Now you are my beetle man again. No, not quite, though. You'll never be quite the same beetle man again. "

"I shall always be, " he contradicted gently. 

"Anyway, it's better. You're easier to say things to. Are youreally the man who ran away from the street car?" she askeddoubtfully. 

"I really am. "

"Then I'm most surely sure that you had good reason. " She began tolaugh softly. "As for the stories about you, I'd believe them lessthan ever, now. "

"Are there stories about me?"

"Gossip of the club. They call you 'The Unspeakable Perk'!"

"Not a bad nickname, " he admitted. "I expect I have been ratherunspeakable, from their point of view. "

A desire to have the faith that was in her supported by this man'sown word overrode her shyness. 

"Mr. Beetle Man, " she said, "have you got a sister?"

"I? No. Why?"

"If you had a sister, is there anything--Oh, DARN your sister!"broke forth the irrepressible Polly. "I'll be your sister forthis. Is there anything about you and your life here that you'd beafraid to tell me?"

"No. "

"I knew there wasn't, " she said contentedly. She hesitated amoment, then put a hand on his arm. "Does this HAVE to be good-bye, Mr. Beetle Man?" she said wistfully. 

"I'm afraid so. "

"No!" She stamped imperiously. "I want to see you again, and I'mgoing to see you again. Won't you come down to the port and bringme another bunch of your mountain orchids when we sail--just forgood-bye?"

Through the dull medium of the glasses she could feel his eyesquestioning hers. And she knew that once more before she sailedaway, she must look into those eyes, in all their clarity and alltheir strength--and then try to forget them. The swift color ranup into her cheeks. 

"I--I suppose so, " he said. "Yes. "

"Au revoir, then!" she cried, with a thrill of gladness, and fledup the rock. 

The Unspeakable Perk strode down his path, broke into a trot, andheld to it until he reached his house. But Miss Polly, departingin her own direction, stopped dead after ten minutes' going. Ithad struck her forcefully that she had forgotten the matter of theexpense of the message. How could she reach him? She rememberedthe cliff above the rock, and the signal. If a signal was valid inone direction, it ought to work equally well in the other. She hadher automatic with her. Retracing her steps, she ascended thecliff, a rugged climb. Across the deep-fringed chasm she couldplainly see the porch of the quinta with the little clearing atthe side, dim in the clouded light. Drawing the revolver, shefired three shots. 

"He'll come, " she thought contentedly. 

The sun broke from behind the obscuring cloud and sent a shaft oflight straight down upon the clearing. It illumined with pitilessdistinctness the shimmering silk of a woman's dress, hanging on aline and waving in the first draft of the evening breeze. For amoment Polly stood transfixed. What did it mean? Was it perhaps aservant's dress. No; he had told her that there was no womanservant. 

As she sought the solution, a woman's figure emerged from theporch of the quinta, crossed the compound, and dropped upon abench. Even at that distance, the watcher could tell from thewoman's bearing and apparel that she was not of the servant class. She seemed to be gazing out over the mountains; there wassomething dreary and forlorn in her attitude. What, then, did shedo in the beetle man's house?

Below the rock the shrubbery weaved and thrashed, and the personwho could best answer that question burst into view at a fulllope. 

"What is it?" he panted. "Was it you who fired?"

She stared at him mutely. The revolver hung in her hand. In amoment he was beside her. 

"Has anything happened?" he began again, then turned his head tofollow the direction of her regard. He saw the figure in thecompound. 

"Good God in heaven!" he groaned. 

He caught the revolver from her hand and fired three slow shots. The woman turned. Snatching off his hat, he signalled violentlywith it. The woman rose and, as it seemed to Polly Brewster, movedin humble submissiveness back to the shelter. 

White consternation was stamped on the Unspeakable Perk's face ashe handed the revolver to its owner. 

"Do you need me?" he asked quickly. "If not, I must go back atonce. "

"I do not need you, " said the girl, in level tones. "You lied tome. "

His expression changed. She read in it the desperation of guilt. 

"I can explain, " he said hurriedly, "but not now. There isn'ttime. Wait here. I'll be back. I'll be back the instant I can getaway. "

As he spoke, he was halfway down the rock, headed for the lowertrail. The bushes closed behind him. 

Painfully Polly Brewster made her way down the treacherous footingof the cliff path to her place on the rock. From her bag she drewone of her cards, wrote slowly and carefully a few words, found adry stick, set it between two rocks, and pinned her message to it. Then she ran, as helpless humans run from the scourge of their ownhearts. 

Half an hour later the hermit, sweat-covered and breathless, returned to the rock. For a moment he gazed about, bewildered bythe silence. The white card caught his eye. He read its angularscrawl. 

"I wish never to see you again. Never! Never! Never!"

A sulphur-yellow inquisitor, of a more insinuating manner than theformer participant in their conversation, who had been examiningthe message on his own account, flew to the top of the cliff. 

"Qu'est-ce qu'elle dit? Qu'est-ce qu'elle dit?" he demanded. 

For the first time in his adult life the beetle man threw a stoneat a bird. 

VIII

LOS YANKIS

Luncheon on the day following the kiskadee bird's narrow squeakfor his life was a dreary affair for Mr. Fitzhugh Carroll. Business had called Mr. Brewster away. This deprivation theSoutherner would have borne with equanimity. But Miss Brewster hadalso absented herself, which was rather too much for the devoted, but apprehensive, lover. Thus, ample time was given him toconsider how ill his suit was prospering. The longer he stayed, the less he saw of Miss Polly. That she was kinder and moregentle, less given to teasing him than of yore, was poorcompensation. He was shrewd enough to draw no good augury fromthat. Something had altered her, and he was divided betweensuspicion of the last week's mail, the arrival of which had beenabout contemporaneous with her change of spirit, and some localcause. Was a letter from Smith, the millionaire, or Bobby, thefriend of her childhood, responsible? Or was the cause nearer athand?

For one preposterous moment he thought of the Unspeakable Perk. Aquick visualization of that gnomish, froggish face was enough todispel the suspicion. At least the petted and rather fastidiousMiss Brewster's fancy would be captured only by a gentleman, notby any such homunculus as the mountain dweller. Her interest, perhaps; the man possessed the bizarre attraction of the freakish. But anything else was absurd. And the knight was inclined toattaint his lady for a certain cruelty in the matter; she wasbeing something less than fair to the Unspeakable Perk. 

The searchlight of his surmise ranged farther. Raimonda! The youngCaracunan was handsome, distinguished, manly, with a romanticcharm that the American did not underestimate. He, at least, was agentleman, and the assiduity of his attentions to the Northernbeauty had become the joke of the clubs--except when Raimonda waspresent. By the same token, half of the gilded youth of thecapital, and most of the young diplomats, were the sworn slaves ofthe girl. It was a confused field, indeed. Well, thank Heaven, shewould soon be out of it! Word had come down from her that she wasbusy packing her things. Carroll wandered about the hotel, waitingfor the news that would explain this preparation. 

It came, at mid-afternoon, in the person of Miss Polly herself. Why packing trunks, with the aid of an experienced maid, should, even in a hot climate, produce heavy circles under the eyes, adroop at the mouth corners, and a complete submersion of vivacity, is a problem which Carroil then and there gave up. He had too muchtact to question or comment. 

"Oh, I'm so tired!" she said, giving him her hand. "Have you muchpacking to do, Fitzhugh?"

"No one has given me any notice to get ready, Miss Polly. "

"How very neglectful of me! We may leave at any time. "

"Yes; you may. But my ship doesn't seem to be coming in veryfast. "

The double entente was unintentional, but the girl winced. 

"Aren't you coming with us on the yacht?"

"Am I?" His handsome face lighted hopefully. 

"Of course. Dad expects you to. What kind of people should we beto leave any friend behind, with matters as they are?"

"Ah, yes. " The hope passed out of his face. "Dictates of humanity, and that sort of thing. I think, if you and Mr. Brewster--"

"Please don't be silly, Fitz, " she pleaded. "You know it wouldmake me most unhappy to leave you. "

Rarely did the scion of Southern blood and breeding lose the self-control and reserve on which he prided himself, but he had beenharassed by events to an unwonted strain of temper. 

"Is it making you unhappy to leave any one else here?" he blurtedout. 

The challenge stirred the girl's spirit. 

"No, indeed! I wouldn't care if I never saw any of them again. I'mtired of it all. I want to go home, " she said, like a patheticchild. 

"Oh, Miss Polly, " he began, taking a step toward her, "if you'donly let me--"

She put up one little sunburned hand. 

"Please, Fitz! I--I don't feel up to it to-day. "

Humbly he subsided. 

"I'd no right to ask you the question, " he apologized. "It waskind of you to answer me at all. "

"You're really a dear, Fitz, " she said, smiling a little wanly. "Sometimes I wish--"

She did not finish her sentence, but wandered over to the window, and gazed out across the square. On the far side something quiteout of the ordinary seemed to be going on. 

"The legless beggar seems to have collected quite an audience, "she remarked idly. 

Her suitor joined her on the parlor balcony. 

"Possibly he's starting a revolution. Any one can do it downhere. "

Vehement adjuration, in a high, strident voice, came floatingacross to them. 

"Listen!" cried the girl. "He's speaking. English, isn't he?"

"It seems to be a mixture of English, French, and Spanish. Quite apolyglot the friend of your friend Perkins appears to be. "

She turned steady eyes upon him. 

"Mr. Perkins is not my friend. "

"No?"

"I never want to see him, or to hear his name again. "

"Ah, then you've found out about him?"

"Yes. " She flushed. "Yes--at least--Yes, " she concluded. 

"He admitted it to you?"

"No, he lied about it. "

"I think I shall go up and make a call on Mr. Perkins, " saidCarroll, with formidable quiet. 

"Oh, it doesn't matter, " she answered wearily. "He'd only run awayand hide. " As she said it, her inner self convicted her tongue oflying. 

"Very likely. Yet, see here, Miss Polly, --I want to be fair tothat fellow. It doesn't follow that because he's a coward he's acad. "

"He isn't a coward!" she flashed. 

"You just said yourself that he'd run and hide. "

"Well, he wouldn't, and he IS a cad. "

"As you like. In any case, I shall make it a point to see himbefore I leave. If he can explain, well and good. If not--" He didnot conclude. 

"Our orator seems to have finished, " observed the girl. "I shallgo back upstairs and write some good-bye notes to the kind peoplehere. "

"Just for curiosity, I think I'll drive across and look at thelegless Demosthenes, " said her companion. "I was going to do alittle shopping, anyway. So I'll report later, if he's revolutingor anything exciting. "

From her own balcony, when she reached it, Polly had a lessobstructed view of the beggar's appropriated corner, and shelooked out a few minutes after she reached the room to see whetherhe had resumed his oratory. Apparently he had not, for the crowdhad melted away. The legless one was rocking himself monotonouslyupon his stumps. His head was sunk forward, and from hisextraordinary mouthings the spectator judged that he must betalking to himself with resumed vehemence. From what next passedbefore her astonished vision, Miss Brewster would have suspectedherself of a hallucination of delirium had she not been sure ofnormal health. 

One of the well-horsed, elegant little public victorias with whichthe city is so well supplied stopped at the curb, and the handsomehead of Preston Fairfax Fitzhugh Carroll was thrust forth. Atalmost the same moment the Unspeakable Perk appeared upon thesteps. He was wearing a pair of enormous, misfit white gloves. Hewent down to the beggar, reached forth a hand, and, to the far-away spectator's wonder-struck interpretation, seemed to thrustsomething, presumably a document, into the breast of themendicant's shirt. Having performed this strange rite, he leapedup the steps, hesitated, rushed over to Carroll's equipage, andlaid violent hands upon the occupant, with obvious intent to drawhim forth. For a moment they seemed to struggle upon the sidewalk;then both rushed upon the unfortunate beggar and proceeded tokidnap him and thrust him bodily into the cab. 

The driver turned in his seat at this point, his cue in the madfarce having been given, and opened speech with many gestures, whereupon Carroll arose and embraced him warmly. And with thisgrouping, the vehicle, bearing its lunatic load, sped around thecorner and disappeared, while the sole interested witness retiredto obscurity, with her reeling head between her hands. 

One final touch of phantasy was given to the whole affair when, two hours later, she met Carroll, soiled and grimy, coming acrossthe plaza, smoking--he, the addict to thirty-cent Havanas!--anawful native cheroot, whose incense spread desolation about him. Further and more extraordinary, when she essayed to obtain asolution of the mystery from him, he repelled her with emphaticgestures and a few half-strangled words with whoseunintelligibility the cheroot fumes may have had some connection, and hurried into the hotel, where he remained in seclusion therest of the day. 

What in the name of all the wonders could it mean? On Mr. Brewster's return, she laid the matter before him at the dinnertable. 

"Touch of the sun, perhaps, " he hazarded. "Nothing else I know ofwould explain it. "

"Do two Americans, a half-breed beggar, and a local coachman getsunstruck at one and the same time?" she inquired disdainfully. 

"Doesn't seem likely. By your account, though, the crippled beggarseems to have been the little Charlie Ross of melodrama. "

"Then why didn't he shout for help? I listened, but didn't hear asound from him. "

"Movie-picture rehearsal, " grunted Mr. Brewster. "I can't quitesee the heir of all the Virginias in the part. Isn't he comingdown to dinner this evening?"

"His dinner was sent up to his room. Isn't it extraordinary?"

"Ask Sherwen about it. He's coming around this evening for coffeein our rooms. "

But the American representative had something else on his mindbesides casual kidnapings. 

"I've just come from a talk with the British Minister, " heremarked, setting down his cup. "He's officially in charge ofAmerican interests, you know. "

"Thought you were, " said Mr. Brewster. 

"Officially, I have no existence. The United States of America iswiped off the map, so far as the sovereign Republic of Caracuna isconcerned. Some of its politicians wouldn't be over-grieved if thelocal Americans underwent the same process. The British Ministerwould, I'm sure, sleep easier if you were all a thousand milesaway from here. "

"Tell Sir Willet that he's very ungallant, " pouted Miss Polly. "When I sat next to him at dinner last week he offered toestablish woman suffrage here and elect me next president if I'dstay. "

Sherwen hardly paid this the tribute of a smile. 

"That was before he found out certain things. The HochwaldLegation"--he lowered his voice--"is undoubtedly stirring up anti-American sentiment. "

"But why?" inquired Mr. Brewster. "There's enough trade for themand for us?"

"For one thing, they don't like your concessions, Mr. Brewster. Then they have heard that Dr. Pruyn is on his way, and they wantto make all the trouble they can for him, and make it impossiblefor him to get actual information of the presence of plague. Ihappen to know that their consul is officially declaring fake allthe plague rumors. "

"That suits me, " declared the magnate. "We don't want to have torun Dutch and quarantine blockade both. "

"Meantime, there are two or three cheap but dangerous demagogueswho have been making anti-'Yanki, ' as they call us, speeches inthe slums. Sir Willet doesn't like the looks of it. If there wereany way in which you could get through, and to sea, it would bewell to take it at once. Am I correct in supposing that you'vetaken steps to clear the yacht, Mr. Brewster?"

"Yes. That is, I've sent a message. Or, at least, so my daughter, to whose management I left it, believes. "

"Don't tell me how, " said Sherwen quickly. "There is reason tobelieve that it has been dispatched. "

"You've heard something?"

"I have a message from our consul at Puerto del Norte, Mr. Wisner. "

"For me?" asked the concessionaire. 

"Why, no, " was the hesitant reply. "It isn't quite clear, but itseems to be for Miss Brewster. "

"Why not?" inquired that young lady coolly. "What is it?"

"The best I could make of it over the phone--Wisner had to beguarded--was that people planning to take Dutch leave would betterpay their parting calls by to-morrow at the latest. "

"That would mean day after to-morrow, wouldn't it?" mused thegirl. 

"If it means anything at all, " substituted her father testily. 

"Meantime, how do you like the Gran Hotel Kast, Miss Brewster?"asked Sherwen. 

"It's awful beyond words! I've done nothing but wish for a brigadeof Biddies, with good stout mops, and a government permit to cleanup. I'd give it a bath!"

"Yes, it's pretty bad. I'm glad you don't like it. "

"Glad? Is every one ag'in' poor me?"

"Because--well, the American Legation is a very lonely place. Now, the presence of an American lady--"

"Are you offering a proposal of marriage, Mr. Sherwen?" twinkledthe girl. "If so--Dad, please leave the room. "

"Knock twenty years off my battle-scarred life and you wouldn't besafe a minute, " he retorted. "But, no. This is a measure ofsafety. Sir Willet thinks that your party ought to be ready tomove into the American Legation on instant notice, if you can'tget away to sea to-morrow. "

"What's the use, if the legation has no official existence?" askedMr. Brewster. 

"In a sense it has. It would probably be respected by a mob. And, at the worst, it adjoins the British Legation, which would bequite safe. If it weren't that Sir Willet's boy has typhoid, you'dbe formally invited to go there. "

"It's very good of you, " said Miss Polly warmly. "But surely itwould be an awful nuisance to you. "

"On the contrary, you'd brace up my far-too-casual old housekeeperand get the machinery running. She constantly takes advantage ofmy bachelor ignorance. If you say you'll come, I'll almost prayfor the outbreak. "

"Certainly we'll come, at any time you notify us, " said Mr. Brewster. "And we're very grateful. Shall you have room for Mr. Carroll, too?"

"By all means. And I've notified Mr. Cluff. You won't mind hisbeing there? He's a rough diamond, but a thoroughly decentfellow. "

"Useful, too, in case of trouble, I should judge, " said themagnate. "Then I'll wait for further word from you. "

"Yes. I've got my men out on watch. "

"Wouldn't it be--er--advisable for us to arm ourselves?"

"By no means! There's just one course to follow; keep the peace atany price, and give the Hochwaldians not the slightest peg onwhich to hang a charge that Americans have been responsible forany trouble that might arise. May I ask you, " he addedsignificantly, "to make this clear to Mr. Carroll?"

"Leave that to me, " said Miss Brewster, with superb confidence. 

"Content, indeed! You'll find our locality very pleasant, MissBrewster. Three of the other legations are on the same block, notincluding the Hochwaldian, which is a quarter of a mile down thehill. On our corner is a house where several of the Englishrailroad men live, and across is the Club Amicitia, made uplargely of the jeunesse doree, who are mostly pro-American. Soyou'll be quite surrounded by friends, not to say adherents. "

"Call on me to housekeep for you at any time, " cried Polly gayly. "I'll begin to roll up my sleeves as soon as I get dressed to-morrow. "

IX

THE BLACK WARNING

That weird three-part drama in the plaza which had so puzzled MissPolly Brewster had developed in this wise:--

Coincidently with the departure of Preston Fairfax FitzhughCarroll from the hotel in his cab, the Unspeakable Perk emergedfrom a store near the far corner of the square, which exploiteditself in the purest Castilian as offering the last word in thematter of gentlemen's apparel. "Articulos para Caballeros" was therepresentation held forth upon its signboard. 

If it had articled Mr. Perkins, it must be confessed that it haddone its job unevenly, not to say fantastically. His linen wasfresh and new, quite conspicuously so, and, therefore, in sharpcontrast to the frayed and patched, but scrupulously clean andneatly pressed khaki suit, which set forth rather bumpily hissolid figure. A serviceable pith helmet barely overhung theprotrusive goggles. His hands were encased in white cotton gloves, a size or two too large. Dismal buff spots on the palms impairedtheir otherwise virgin purity. As the wearer carried his handsstiffly splayed, the blemishes were obtrusive. Altogether, onemight have said that, if he were going in for farce, he wasappropriately made up for it. 

At the corner above the beggar's niche he was turning toward apharmacist's entrance, when the mirth of the departing crowd thathad been enjoying the free oratory attracted his attention. Heglanced across at the beggar, now rocking rhythmically on hisstumps, hesitated a moment, then ran down the steps. 

At the same moment Carroll's cab stopped on the other angle of thecurb. The occupant put forth his head, saw the goggled freakdescending to the legless freak, and sat back again. 

"Hola, Pancho! Are you ill?" asked the newcomer. 

The beggar only swung back and forth, muttering with frenziedrapidity. With one hand the Unspeakable Perk stopped him, as onemight intercept the runaway pendulum of a clock, setting the otheron his forehead. Then he bent and brought his goblin eyes to bearon the dark face. The features were distorted, the eyelidstremulous over suffused eyes, and the teeth set. Opening the man'sloose shirt, Perkins thrust his hand within. It might have beensupposed that he was feeling for the heart action, were it notthat his hand slid past the breast and around under the arm. Whenhe drew it out, he stood for a moment with chin dropped, inconsideration. 

Midday heat had all but cleared the plaza. As he looked about, thehelper saw no aid, until his eye fell upon the waiting cab. Hefairly bounded up the stairs, calling something to the coachman. 

"No, " grunted that toiler, with the characteristic discourtesy ofthe Caracunan lower class, and jerked his head backward toward hisfare. 

"I beg your pardon, " said the Unspeakable Perk eagerly, inSpanish, turning to the dim recess of the victoria. "Might I--Oh, it's you!" He seized Carroll by the arm. "I want your cab. "

"Indeed!" said Carroll. "Well, you're cool enough about it. "

"And your help, " added the other. 

"What for?"

"Do you have to ask questions? The man may be dying--is dying, Ithink. "

"All right, " said Carroll promptly. "What's to be done?"

"Get him home. Help me carry him to the cab. "

Between them, the two men lifted the heavy, mumbling cripple, carried him up the steps with a rush, and deposited him in thecab, while the driver was still angrily expostulating. The beggarwas shivering now, and the cold sweat rolled down his face. Hisbearers placed themselves on each side of him. Perkins gave anorder to the driver, who seemed to object, and a rapid-fireargument ensued. 

"What's wrong?" asked Carroll. 

"Says he won't go there. Says he was hired by you for shopping. "

Carroll took one look at the agony-wrung face of the beggar, whowas being held on the seat by his companion. 

"Won't he?" said he grimly. "We'll see. "

Rising, he threw a pair of long arms around those of the driver, pinning him, caught the reins, and turned the horses. 

"Now ask him if he'll drive, " he directed Perkins. 

"Si, senor!" gasped the coachman, whose breath had been squeezedalmost through his crackling ribs. 

"See that you do, " the Southerner bade him, in accents that neededno interpretation. 

Presently Perkins looked up from his charge. 

"Got a cigar?" he asked abruptly. 

"No, " replied the other, a little disgusted by this levity in thepresence of imminent death. 

Perkins bade the driver stop at the corner. 

"Don't let him fall off the seat, " he admonished Carroll, andjumped out. 

In the course of a minute he reappeared, smoking a cheroot thatappeared to be writhing and twisting in the effort to escape fromits own noxious fumes. 

"Have one, " he said, extending a handful to his companion. 

"I don't care for it, " returned the other superciliously. Whilewilling to aid in a good work, he did not in the least approveeither of the Unspeakable Perk or of his offhand manners. 

Before they had gone much farther, his resentment was heated tothe point of offense. 

"Is it necessary for you to puff every puff of that infernal smokein my face?" he demanded ominously. 

"Well, you wouldn't smoke, yourself. "

"If it weren't for this poor devil of a sick man--" began Carroll, when a second thought about the smoke diverted his line ofthought. "Is it contagious?" he asked. 

"It's so regarded, " observed the other dryly. 

"I'll take one of those, thank you. "

Perkins handed him one of the rejected spirals. In silence, exceptfor the outrageous rattling of the wheels on the cobbles, theydrove through mean streets that grew ever meaner, until they drewup at the blind front of a building abutting on an arroyo of thefoothills. Here they stopped, and Carroll threw his jehu a five-bolivar piece, which the driver caught, driving away at once, without the demand for more which usually follows overpayment inCaracuna. Convenient to hand lay a small rock. Perkins used it fora knocker, hammering on the guarded wooden door with suchvehemence as to still the clamor that arose from within. 

Through the opening, as the barrier was removed by a leather-skinned old crone, Carroll gazed into a passageway, beyond whichstretched a foul mule yard, bordered by what the visitor at firstsupposed to be stalls, until he saw bedding and utensils in them. The two men lifted the cripple in, amid the outcries andlamentations of the aged woman, who had looked at his face andthen covered her own. At once they were surrounded by a swarm ofwomen and children, who pressed upon them, hampering theirmovements, until a shrill voice cried:--

"La muerte negra!"

The swarm fell into silence, scattered, vanished, leaving only themoaning woman to help. At her direction they settled the patienton a straw pallet in a side room. 

"That's all you can do, " said the Unspeakable Perk to hiscompanion. "And thank you. "

"I'll stay. "

The goggles gloomed upon him in the dim room. 

"I thought probably you would, " commented Perkins, and busiedhimself over the cripple with a knife and some cloths. He hadstuffed his ludicrous white gloves into his pocket, and wastearing strips from his handkerchief with skillful fingers. 

"Oughtn't he to have a doctor?" asked Carroll. "Shall I go forone?"

"His mother has sent. No use, though. "

"He can't be saved?"

"Not a chance on earth. I should say he was in the last stages. "

"What is it?" said Carroll hesitantly. 

"La muerte negra. The black death. "

"Plague?"

"Yes. "

"Are you sure? Are you an expert?"

"One doesn't have to be to recognize a case like that. The lump inthe armpit is as big as a pigeon's egg. "

"Why have you interested yourself in the man to such an extent?"asked Carroll curiously. 

"He's a friend of mine. Why did you?"

"Oh, that's quite different. One can't disregard a call for helpsuch as yours. "

"A certain kind of 'one' can't, " returned the Unspeakable Perk, with his half-smile. "You don't mind my saying, Mr. Carroll, you're a brave man. "

"And I'd have said that you weren't, " replied the other bluntly. "I give it up. But I know this: I'm going to be pretty wretchedlyfrightened until I know that I haven't got it. I'm frightenednow. "

"Then you're a braver man than I thought. But the danger may beless than you think. Stick to that cigar--here are two more--andwait for me outside. Here's the doctor. "

Profound and solemn under a silk hat, the local physician entered, bowing to Carroll as they passed in the hallway. Almostimmediately Perkins emerged. On his face was a sardonic grin. 

"Malaria, " he observed. "The learned professor assures me thatit's a typical malaria. "

"Then it isn't the plague, " said Carroll, relieved. 

His relief was of brief duration. 

"Of course it's plague. But if Professor Silk Hat, in there, officially declared it such, he'd have bracelets on his arms intwelve hours. The present Government of Caracuia doesn't believein bubonic plague. I fancy our unfortunate friend in there willpresently disappear, either just before or just after death. Itdoesn't greatly matter. "

"What is to be done now?" asked Carroll. 

"See that brush fire up there?" The hermit pointed to thehillside. "If we steep ourselves in that smoke until we choke, Ithink it will discourage any fleas that may have harbored on us. The flea is the only agent of communication. "

Soot-begrimed, strangling, and with streaming eyes, they emerged, five minutes later, from the cloud of smoke. From his pocket theUnspeakable Perk dragged forth his white gloves. The actionattracted his companion's attention. 

"Good Lord!" he cried. "What has happened to your hands?"

"They're blistered. "

"Stripped, rather. They look as if you'd fallen into a fire, orrowed a fifty-mile race. That message of Mr. Brewster's--See here, Perkins, you didn't row that over to the mainland? No, youcouldn't. That's absurd. It's too far. "

"No; I didn't row it to the mainland. "

"But you've been rowing. I'd swear to those hands. Where? Theblockading Dutch warship?"

The other nodded. 

"Last night. Yah-h-h!" he yawned. "It makes me sleepy to think ofit. "

"Why didn't they blow you out of the water?" "Oh, I wassemiofficially expected. Message from our consul. They transferredthe message by wireless. I'm telling you all this, Mr. Carroll, because I think you'll get your release within forty-eight hours, and I want you to see that some of your party keeps constantly intouch with Mr. Sherwen. It's mighty important that your partyshould get out before plague is officially declared. "

"Are you going to report this case?"

"All that I know about it. "

"But, of course, you can't report officially, not being aphysician, " mused the other. "Still, when Dr. Pruyn comes, it willbe evidence for him, won't it?"

"Undoubtedly. I should consider any delay after twenty-four hoursrisky for your party. "

"What shall you do? Stay?"

"Oh, I've my place in the mountains. That's remote enough to besafe. Thank Heaven, there's a cloud over the sun! Let's sit downby this tree for a minute. "

Unthinkingly, as he stretched himself out, the Unspeakable Perkpushed his goggles back and presently slipped them off. Thus, whenCarroll, who had been gazing at the mist-capped peak of themountain in front, turned and met his companion's eyes, heunderwent something of the same shock that Polly Brewster hadexperienced, though the nature of his sensation was profoundlydifferent. But his impression of the suddenly revealed face wasthe same. Ribbed-in though his mind was with tradition, anddistorted with falsely focused ideals and prejudices, PrestonFairfax Fitzhugh Carroll possessed a sound underlying judgment ofhis fellow man, and was at bottom a frank and honorable gentleman. In his belief, the suddenly revealed face of the man beside himcame near to being its own guaranty of honor and good faith. 

"By Heavens, I don't believe it!" he blurted out, his gaze directupon the Unspeakable Perk. 

"What don't you believe?"

"That rotten club gossip. "

"About me?"

"Yes, " said Carroll, reddening. 

The hermit pushed his glasses down, settled into place the whitegloves, with their soothing contents of emollient greases, and gotto his feet. 

"We'd best be moving. I've got much to do, " he said. 

"Not yet, " retorted Carroll. "Perkins, is there a woman up thereon the mountains with you?"

"That is purely my own business. "

"You told Miss Brewster there wasn't. If you tell me--"

"I never told her any such thing. She misunderstood. "

"Who is the woman?"

"If you want it even more frankly, that is none of your concern. "

"You have been letting Miss Brewster--"

"Are you engaged to marry Miss Brewster?"

"No. "

"Then you have no authority to question me. But, " he addedwearily, "if it will ease your mind, and because of what you'vedone to-day, I 'll tell you this--that I do not expect ever to seeMiss Brewster again. "

"That isn't enough, " insisted Carroll, his face darkening. "Hername has already been connected with yours, and I intend to followthis through. I am going to find out who the woman is at yourplace. "

"How do you propose to do it?"

"By coming to see. "

"You'll be welcome, " said the other grimly. "By the way, here's amap. " He made a quick sketch on the back of an envelope. "I'll bethere at work most of to-morrow. Au revoir. " He rose and starteddown the hill. "Better keep to yourself this evening, " he warned. "Take a dilute carbolic bath. You'll be all right, I think. "

Slowly and thoughtfully the Southerner made his way back to thehotel. After dining in his own room, he found time heavy on hishands; so, dispatching a note of excuse to Miss Brewster on theplea of personal business, he slipped out into the city. Wanderingidly toward the hills, he presently found himself in a familiarstreet, and, impelled by human curiosity, proceeded to turn up thehill and stop opposite the blank door. 

Here he was puzzled. To go in and inquire, even if he cared to andcould make himself understood, would perhaps involve further riskof infection. While he was considering, the door slowly opened, and the leather-skinned crone appeared. Her eyes were swollen. Inher hand she carried a travesty of a wreath, done in whitishmetal, which she had interwoven with her own black mantilla, thebest substitute for crape at hand. This she undertook to hang onthe door. As Carroll crossed to address her, a powerful, sullen-faced man, with a scarred forehead and the insignia of someofficial status, apparently civic, on his coat, emerged from adoorway and addressed her harshly. She raised her reddened eyes tohim and seemed to be pleading for permission to set up the littletribute to her dead. There was the exchange of a few more words. Then, with an angry exclamation, the official snatched the wreathfrom her. Carroll's hand fell on his shoulder. The man swung andsaw a stranger of barely half his bulk, who addressed him in whatseemed to be politely remonstrant tones. He shook himself looseand threw the wreath in the crone's face. Then he went down like alog under the impact of a swinging blow behind the ear. With aroar he leaped up and rushed. The foreigner met him with right andleft, and this time he lay still. 

Hanging the tragically unsightly wreath on the door, through whichthe terrified mourner had vanished, Carroll returned to the GranHotel Kast, his perturbed and confused thoughts and emotionsnotably relieved by that one comforting moment of action. 

X

THE FOLLY OF PERK

Of the comprehensive superiority of the American Legation over theGran Hotel Kast there could be no shadow of a doubt. From themoment of their arrival at noon of the day after the BritishMinister's warning, the refugees found themselves comfortable andcontent, Miss Brewster having quietly and tactfully taken over themanagement of internal affairs and reigning, at Sherwen's request, as generalissima. No disturbance had marked the transfer to theirnew abode. In fact, so wholly lacking was any evidence ofhostility to the foreigners on the part of the crowds on thestreets that the Brewsters rather felt themselves to be extortinghospitality on false pretenses. Sherwen, however, exhibited signalrelief upon seeing them safely housed. 

"Please stay that way, too, " he requested. 

"But it seems so unnecessary, and I want to market, " protestedMiss Polly. 

"By no means! The market is the last place where any of us shouldbe seen. It is in that section that Urgante has been doing hiswork. "

"Who is he?"

"A wandering demagogue and cheap politician. Abuse of the 'Yankis'is his stock in trade. Somebody has been furnishing him moneylately. That's the sole fuel to his fires of oratory. "

"Bet the bills smelled of sauerkraut when they reached him, "grunted Cluff, striding over to the window of the drawing-room, where the informal conference was being held. 

"They may have had a Hochwaldian origin, " admitted Sherwen. "Butit would be difficult to prove. "

"At least the Hochwald Legation wouldn't shed any tears over ademonstration against us, " said Carroll. 

"Well within the limits of diplomatic truth, " smiled the Americanofficial. 

"Pooh!" Mr. Brewster puffed the whole matter out of consideration. "I don't believe a word of it. Some of my acquaintances at theclub, men in high governmental positions, assure me that there isno anti-American feeling here. "

"Very likely they do. Frankness and plain-speaking being, as youdoubtless know, the distinguishing mark of the Caracunanstatesman. "

The sarcasm was not lost upon Mr. Brewster, but it failed to shakehis skepticism. 

"There are some business matters that require that I should go tothe office of the Ferro carril del Norte this afternoon, " he said. 

"I beg that you do nothing of the sort, " cried Sherwen sharply. 

The magnate hesitated. He glanced out of the window and along thestreet, close bounded by blank-walled houses, each with its eyesclosed against the sun. A solitary figure strode rapidly acrossit. 

"There's that bug-hunting fellow again, " said Mr. Brewster. "He'san American, I guess, --God save the mark! Nobody seems to beinterfering with HIM, and he's freaky enough looking to start ariot on Broadway. "

Further comment was checked by the voice of the scientist at thedoor, asking to see Mr. Sherwen at once. Miss Polly immediatelyslipped out of the room to the patio, followed by Carroll andCluff. 

"My business, probably, " remarked Mr. Brewster. "I'll just stayand see. " And he stayed. 

So far as the newcomer was concerned, however, he might as wellnot have been there; so he felt, with unwonted injury. Thescientist, disregarding him wholly, shook hands with Sherwen. 

"Have you heard from Wisner yet?"

"Yes. An hour ago. "

"What was his message?"

"All right, any time to-day. "

"Good! Better get them down to-night, then, so they can start to-morrow morning. "

"Will Stark pass them?"

"Under restrictions. That's all been seen to. "

At this point it appeared to Mr. Brewster that he had figured as acipher quite long enough. 

"Am I right in assuming that you are talking of my party'sdeparture?" he inquired. 

"Yes, " said Sherwen. "The Dutch will let you through theblockade. "

"Then my cablegram reached the proper parties at Washington, " saidthe magnate, with an I-knew-it-would-be-that-way air. 

"Thanks to Mr. Perkins. "

"Of course, of course. That will be--er--suitably attended tolater. "

The Unspeakable Perk turned and regarded him fixedly; but, owingto the goggles, the expression was indeterminable. 

"The fact is it would be more convenient for me to go day afterto-morrow than to-morrow. "

"Then you'd better rent a house, " was the begoggled one's sharpand brief advice. 

"Why so?" queried the great man, startled. 

"Because if you don't get out to-morrow, you may not get out formonths. "

"As I understand the Dutch permit, it specifies AFTER to-day. "

"It isn't a question of the Dutch. Caracuna City goes underquarantine to-night, and Puerto del Norte to-morrow, as soon asproper official notification can be given. "

"Then plague has actually been found?"

"Determined by bacteriological test this morning. "

"How do you know?"

"I was present at the finding. "

"Who did it? Dr. Pruyn?"

The other nodded. 

Sherwen whistled. 

"Better make ready to move, Mr. Brewster, " he advised. "You can'tget out of port after quarantine is on. At least, you couldn't getinto any other port, even if you sailed, because your sailing-master wouldn't have clearance papers. "

The magnate smiled. 

"I hardly think that any United States Consul, with a due regardfor his future, would refuse papers to the yacht Polly, " heobserved. 

"Don't be a fool!"

Thatcher Brewster all but jumped from his chair. That thisadjuration should have come from the freakish spectacle-wearerseemed impossible. Yet Sherwen, the only other person in the room, was certainly not guilty. 

"Did you address me, young man?"

"I did. "

"Do you know, sir, that since boyhood no person has dared or woulddare to call me a fool?"

"Well, I don't want to set a fashion, " said the other equably. "I'm only advising you not to be. "

"Keep your advice until it's wanted. "

"If it were a question of you alone, I would. But there are othersto be considered. Now, listen, Mr. Brewster: Wisner and Starkwouldn't let you through that quarantine, after it's declared, ifyou were the Secretary himself. A point is being stretched ingiving you this chance. If you'll agree to ship a doctor, --Starkwill find you one, --stay out for six full days before touchinganywhere, and, if plague develops, make at once for any detentionstation specified by the doctor, you can go. Those are Stark'sconditions. "

"Damnable nonsense!" declared Mr. Brewster, jumping to his feet, quite red in the face. 

"Let me warn you, Mr. Brewster, " put in Sherwen, with quiet force, "that you are taking a most unwise course. I am advised that Mr. Perkins is acting under instructions from our consulate. "

"You say that Dr. Pruyn is here. I want to see him before--"

"How can you see him? Nobody knows where he is keeping himself. Ihaven't seen him yet myself. Now, Mr. Brewster, just sit down andtalk this over reasonably with Mr. Perkins. "

"Oh, no, " said the third conferee positively; "I've no time forargument. At six o'clock I 'll be back here. Unless you decide bythen, I'll telephone the consulate that the whole thing is off. "

"Of all the impudent, conceited, self-important youngwhippersnappers!" fumed Mr. Brewster. But he found that he had noaudience, as Sherwen had followed the scientist out of the room. 

Before the afternoon was over, the American concessionnaire hadcome to realize that the situation was less assured than he hadthought. Twice the British Minister had come, and there had beencalls from the representatives of several other nationalities. VonPlaanden, in full uniform and girt with the short saber that isthe special and privileged arm of the crack cavalry regiment towhich he belonged at home, had dismounted to deliver personally ahuge bouquet for Miss Brewster, from the garden of the HochwaldLegation, not even asking to see the girl, but merely leaving theflowers as a further expression of his almost daily apology, andriding on to an official review at the military park. 

He had spoken vaguely to Sherwen of a restless condition of thelocal mind. Reports, it appeared, had been set afloat among thepopulace to the effect that an American sanitary officer had beenbribed by the enemies of Caracuna to declare plague prevalent, inorder to close the ports and strangle commerce. Urgante was goingabout the lower part of the city haranguing on street cornerswithout interference from the police. In the arroyo of theslaughter-house, two American employees of the street-car companyhad been stoned and beaten. Much aguardiente was in process ofconsumption, it being a half-holiday in honor of some saint, andnobody knew what trouble might break out. 

"Bolas are rolling around like balls on a billiard table, " saidyoung Raimonda, who had come after luncheon to call on MissBrewster. "In this part of the city there will be nothing. Youneedn't be alarmed. "

"I'm not afraid, " said Miss Polly. 

"I'm sure of it, " declared the Caracunan, with admiration. "Youare very wonderful, you American women. "

"Oh, no. It's only that we love excitement, " she laughed. 

"Ah, that is all very well, for a bull-fight or 'la boxe. ' But forone of our street emeutes--no; too much!"

They were seated on the roof of the half-story of the house, whichhad been made into a trellised porch overlooking the patio in therear and the street in front, an architectural wonder in that cityof dead walls flush with the sidewalk line all the way up. Leaningover the rail, the visitor pointed through the leaves of a smallgallito tree to a broad-fronted building almost opposite. 

"That is my club. You have other friends there who would doanything for you, as I would, so gladly, " he added wistfully. "Will you honor me by accepting this little whistle? It is myhunting-whistle. And if there should be anything--but I thinkthere will not--you will blow it, and there will be plenty toanswer. If not, you will keep it, please, to remember one who willnot forget you. "

Handsome and elegant and courtly he was, a true chevalier ofadventurous pioneering stock, sprung from the old proud Spanishblood, but there stole behind the girl's vision, as she bade himfarewell, the undesired phantasm of a very different face, wearyand lined and lighted by steadfast gray eyes--eyes that lookedtruthful and belonged to a liar! Miss Polly Brewster resumed herfinal packing in a fume of rage at herself. 

All hands among the visitors passed the afternoon dully. Mr. Brewster, who had finally yielded to persuasion and decided not toventure out, though still deriding the restriction as the merestnonsense, was in a mood of restless silence, which hisirrepressible daughter described to Fitzhugh Carroll as "thesuperior sulks. "

Carroll himself kept pretty much aloof. He had the air of a manwho wrestles with a problem. Cluff fussed and fretted andprivately cursed the country and all its concessions. Betweencalls and the telephone, Sherwen was kept constantly busy. But afew minutes before six, central, in the blandest Spanish, regretted to inform him that Puerto del Norte was cut off. Whenwould service be resumed? Quien sabe? It was an order. Hastamanana. To-morrow, perhaps. Smoothing a furrow from his brow, thesight of which would have done nobody any good, he suggested thatthey all gather on the roof porch for a swizzle. The suggestionwas hailed with enthusiasm. 

Thus, when the Unspeakable Perk came hustling down the street someminutes earlier than the appointed time, he was hailed inSherwen's voice, and bidden to come directly up. No time, on thisoccasion, for Miss Polly to escape. She decided in one breath toignore the man entirely; in the next to bow coldly and walk out;in the next to--He was there before the latest wavering decisioncould be formulated. 

"Better all get inside, " he said a little breathlessly. "There maybe trouble. "

Cluff brightened perceptibly. 

"What kind of trouble?"

"Urgante is leading a mob up this way. They're turning the cornernow. "

"I'm going to wait and see them, " cried Miss Polly, with decision. 

"Bend over, then, all of you, " ordered Sherwen. "The vines willcover you if you keep down. "

Around the corner, up the hill from where they were, streamed arabble of boys, leaping and whooping, and after them a morecompact crowd of men, shoeless, centering on a tall, broad, heavy-mustached fellow who bore on a short staff the Stars and Stripes. 

"Where on earth did he get that?" cried Sherwen. 

"Looted the Bazaar Americana, " replied Perkins. 

"That's Urgante, " growled Cluff; "that devil with the flag. "

"But he seems to be eulogizing it, " cried the girl. 

The orator had set down his bright burden, wedging it in the ironguard railing of a tree, and was now apostrophizing it withextravagant bows and honeyed accents in which there was anundertone of hiss. For confirmation, Miss Polly turned to theothers. The first face her eyes fell on was that of the ball-player. Every muscle in it was drawn, and from the tightened lipsstreamed such whispered curses as the girl never before had heard. Next him stood the hermit, solid and still, but with a queerspreading pallor under his tan. In front of them Sherwen wascrouched, scowlingly alert. The expression of Mr. Brewster andCarroll, neither of whom understood Spanish, betokened watchfulpuzzlement. 

Enlightenment burst upon them the next minute. From the motleycrowd below rose a snarl of laughter and savage jeering, theobject of which was unmistakable. 

"By G--d!" cried Mr. Brewster, straightening up and grasping therailing. "They're insulting the flag!"

"I've left my pistol!" muttered Carroll, white-lipped. "I've leftmy pistol!"

Polly Brewster's hand flew to her belt. 

She drew out the automatic and held it toward the Southerner. Butit was not Carroll's hand that met hers; it was the UnspeakablePerk's. 

"No, " said he, and he flung the weapon back of him into the patio. 

"Oh! Oh!" cried the girl. "You unspeakable coward!"

Carroll jumped forward, but Sherwen was equally quick. Heinterposed his slight frame. 

"Perkins is right, " he said decisively. "No shooting. It would beworth the life of every one here. We've got to stand it. Butsomebody is going to sweat blood for this day's work!"

The instinct of discipline, characteristic of the professionalathlete, brought Cluff to his support. 

"What Mr. Sherwen says, goes, " he said, almost choking on thewords. "We've got to stand it. "

In the breast of Miss Polly Brewster was no response to thisspirit. She was lawless with the lawlessness of unconquered youthand beauty. 

"Oh!" she breathed "If I had my pistol back, I'd shoot that BEASTmyself!"

The scientist turned his goggles hesitantly upon her. 

"Miss Brewster, " he began, "please don't think--"

"Don't speak to me!" she cried. 

Another clamor of derision sounded from the street as Urganteresumed the standard of his mockery and led his rabble forward. Behind the dull-colored mass appeared a spot of splendor. It wasVon Plaanden, gorgeous in his full regalia, who had turned thecorner, returning from the public reception. Well back of the mob, he pulled his horse up, and sat watching. The coincidence wasunfortunate. It seemed to justify Sherwen's bitter words:--

"Come to visa his work. There's the Hochwaldian for you!"

Forward danced and reeled the "Yanki" baiters below, until theywere under the balcony where the little group of Americanssheltered and raged silently. There the orator again spewed forthhis contempt upon the alien banner, and again the ranks behind himshrieked their approval of the affront. Miss Polly Brewster, American of Americans, whose great-grandfathers had fought withHerkimer and Steuben, --themselves the sons of women who had stoodby the loopholes of log houses and caught up the rifles of theirfallen pioneer husbands, wherewith to return the fire of thebesieging Mohawks, --ran forward to the railing, snatching herskirt from the detaining grasp of her father. In the corner stooda huge bowl of roses. Gathering both hands full, she leanedforward and flung them, so that they fell in a shower ofloveliness upon the insulted flag of her nation. 

For an instant silence fell upon the "great unwashed" below. Outof it swelled a muttering as the leader made a low, mockingobeisance to the girl, following it with a word that brought ajubilant yelp from his adherents. Stooping, he ladled up in hiscupped hand a quantity of gutter filth. Where the flowers had buta moment before fluttered in the folds, he splotched it, smearingstar, bar, and blue with its blackness. At the sight, the girlburst into helpless tears, and so stood weeping, openly, bitterly, and unashamed. 

No brain is so well ordered, no emotion so thoroughly controlled, but that under sudden pressure--click!--the mechanism slips a cogand runs amuck. Just that thing happened inside the UnspeakablePerk's smooth-running, scientific brain upon incitement of hisflag's desecration and his lady's grief. To her it seemed that heshot past her horizontally like a human dart. The next second hewas over the railing, had swung from a branch of the neighboringtree to the trunk, and leaped to the ground, all in one movementof superhuman agility. To the mob his exploit was apparentlywithout immediate significance. Perhaps they didn't notice thedescent; or perhaps those few who saw were so astonished at theapparition of a chunky tree-man with protuberant eyes scramblingdown upon them in the manner of an ape, that they failed toappreciate what it might portend of trouble. 

The hermit landed solidly on his feet a few yards from Urgante, the flag bearer. With a berserker yell, he rushed. Taken bysurprise, the assailed one still had time to lift the heavy staff. As quickly, the American lowered his head and dove. It may nothave been magnificent; it certainly was not war by the rules; butit was eminently effective. To say that the leader went down wouldbe absurdly inadequate. He simply crumpled. Over and over herolled on the cobbles, while the smirched flag flew clear of hisgrasp, and fell on the farther sidewalk. 

"Wow!" yelled Cluff, leaping into the air. "Football! That costhim a couple of ribs. Hey, Rube!"

And he rushed for the stairs, followed by Carroll, Sherwen, and, only one jump behind, Mr. Thatcher Brewster, cursing in a mannerthat did credit to his patriotism, but would have added no lusterto his record as an elder of the Pioneer Presbyterian Church, ofUtica, New York. 

Meantime, the Unspeakable Perk, having rolled free of the fallenenemy, staggered to his feet and caught up the flag. Stunnedsurprise on the part of the crowd gave him an instant's time. Heedged along the curb, hoping to gain the legation door by a rush. But the foe threw out a wing, cutting him off. Several eagerfollowers had lifted Urgante, whose groans and curses suggested asound basis for Cluff's diagnosis. Himself quite hors de combat, he spat at the Unspeakable Perk, and cried upon his henchmen tokill the "Yanki. " It seemed not improbable to the latter that theywould do it. Perkins set his back to the wall, twirled the flagfolds tight around the pole, reversed and clubbed the staff, andprepared to make any attempt at killing as uncomfortable andunprofitable as possible. The rabble, by no means favorablyimpressed by these businesslike proceedings, stood back, growling. 

A hand flew up above the crowd. The Unspeakable Perk duckedsharply and just in time, as a knife struck the wall above him andclattered to the pavement. Instantly he caught it up, but theblade had snapped off short. As he stooped, one bold spirit rushedin. Perkins met him with a straight lance-thrust of the staff, which sent him reeling and shrieking with pain back to hisfellows. But now another knife, and another, struck and fell fromthe wall at his back; badly aimed both, but presumably theforerunners of missiles, some of which would show bettermarksmanship. The assailed man cast a swift, desperate look abouthim; the crowd closed in a little. Obviously he must keep "eyesfront. "

"To your left! To your left!" The voice came to him clear andsweet above the swelling growl of the rabble. "The doorway! Getinto the doorway, Mr. Beetle Man. "

A few paces away, how far Perkins could only guess, was theentrance to the house. He surmised that, like many of the better-class houses, it had a small set-in door, at right angles to themain entrance, that would serve as a shallow shelter. Withoutraising his eyes, he nodded comprehension, and began to edge alongthe wall, swinging his stout weapon. As he went, he wondered whatwas keeping the others. At that moment the others were franticallywrestling with the all-too-adequate bars with which Sherwen hadreinforced the wide door. 

Perkins, feeling with a cautious heel, found himself opposite theentry indicated by the voice. Turning, he darted into the narrowembrasure. Here he was comparatively safe from the missiles thatwere now coming from all directions. On the other hand, he nowlacked room to swing his formidable club. The peons, with a shout, closed in to arm's length. Alone on her balcony, the girl turnedher head away and cried aloud, hopelessly, for help. She wanted toclose her ears against the bestial shouts of a mob trampling todeath a defenseless man, but her arms were of lead. She listenedand shivered. 

Instead of the sound that she dreaded there came the ringing ofhoofs on stones, followed by yells of alarm. She opened her eyesto see Von Plaanden, bent forward in his saddle at the exact angleproper to the charge, urging his great horse down upon the mass ofpeople as ruthlessly as if they had been so many insects. Throughthe circle he broke, swinging his mount around beside the shallowdoorway before which three Caracunans already lay sprawled, attesting the vigor of the defender's final resistance. Back ofthe horseman lay half a dozen other figures. The Hochwaldian jerkedout his sword and stood, a splendid spectacle. Very possibly he wasnot wholly unmindful of his own pictorial quality or of the lovelyAmerican witness thereto. 

His intervention gave a few seconds' respite, one of those checksthat save battles and make history. Now, in the further making ofthis particular history, sounded a lusty whoop from the oppositedirection; such a battle slogan as only the Anglo-Saxon gives. Itemanated from Galpy the bounder, bounding now, indeed, at fullspeed up the slope, followed by two of his fellow railroad men, flannel-clad and still perspiring from their afternoon's cricket. Against bare legs a cricket bat is a highly dissuasive argument. The Britons swung low and hard for the ancient right of the breedto break into a row wherever white men are in the minority againstother races. The downhill wing of the mob being much the weakest, opened up for them with little resistance, leaving them a free pathto the cavalryman, to whose side Perkins, with staff ready brandished, had advanced from his shelter. 

"Wot's the merry game?" inquired the cockney cheerfully. 

Before them the crowd swayed and parted, and there appeared, lifted by many arms, a figure with a dead-white face streaked withblood, running from a great gash in the scalp. 

"He went down in front of my horse, " explained the Hochwaldsecretary coolly. 

At the sight, there rose from the crowd a wailing cry, quitedifferent from its former voice. Galpy's teeth set and his cricketbat went up in the air. 

"There'll be killing for this, " he said. "I know these blightehs. That yell means blood. We must make a bolt for it. Is this allthere is of us?"

At the moment of his asking, it was. One half a second later, itwasn't, as the last of the legation's stubborn bars yielded, thedoor burst open, and the four Americans tumbled out at the charge, Cluff yelling insanely, Carroll in deadly quiet, Sherwen alertlyscanning the adversaries for identifiable faces, and ElderBrewster still imperiling his soul by the fervor of his language. Each was armed with such casual weapons as he had been able tocatch up. Carroll, a leap in advance of the rest, encountered anIndian drover, half-dodged a swinging blow from his whip, and senthim down with a broken shoulder from a chop with a baseball clubthat he had found in the hallway. A bull-like charge had carriedCluff deep among the Caracunans, where he encountered a huge peon. Whom he seized and flung bodily over the iron guard of a samontree, where the man hung, yelling dismally. Two other peons, whohad seized the athlete around the knees, were all but brained by astoneware gin bottle in the hands of Sherwen. Meanwhile, Mr. Brewster was performing prodigies with a niblick which he hadextracted, at full run, from a bag opportunely resting against thehat-rack. Almost before they knew it, the rescue party had brokenthe intercepting wing of the mob, and had joined the others. 

Cluff threw a gorilla-like arm across the Unspeakable Perk'sshoulder, "Hurt, boy?" he cried anxiously. 

"No, I'm all right. Who's left with Miss Brewster?"

"Nobody. We must get back. "

Sherwen's cool voice cut in:--

"Close together, now. Keep well up. Herr von Plaanden, will youcover us at the end?"

"It is the post of honor, " said the Hochwaldian. 

"You've earned it. But for you, they'd have got our colors. "

The foreigner bowed, and swung his horse toward a Caracunan whohad pressed forward a little too near. But, for the moment thefight had oozed out of the mob. 

Without mishap the group got across the street, Perkins stillclinging to the flag. 

Suddenly, from the rear rank, came a shower of stones, followed bythe final rush. Galpy and Perkins went down. Von Plaanden totteredin his saddle, but quickly recovered. Instantly Perkins was upagain, the blood streaming from the side of his head. He wasconscious of brown hands clutching at the cricketer, to drag himaway. He himself seized the cockney's legs and braced for thatabsurd and deadly tug of war. Then Von Plaanden's saber descended, and he was able to haul Galpy back into safety. 

The situation was desperate now. Mr. Brewster was pinned againstthe wall and disarmed, but still fighting with fist and foot. Halfa dozen peons were struggling with Cluff across the bodies of asmany more whom he had knocked down. Sherwen, almost under thecavalryman's mount, was protecting his rear with the fallenGalpy's cricket bat, and the two other cricketers were fightingback to back on the other side. Carroll was clubbing his waytoward Mr. Brewster, but his weapon was now in his left hand. Matters looked dark indeed, when there shrilled fiercely fromabove them the whirring peal of a silver whistle. 

Polly Brewster had remembered Raimonda. It seemed a futile signal, for as she ran to the railing and gazed across at the ClubAmicitia, she saw all its windows and doors tight closed, asbefits an aristocratic club that has no concern with the affairsof the rabble. But there is no way of closing a patio from thetop, and sounds can enter readily that way, when all otherapertures are shut. Long and loud Miss Polly blew the signal onthe silver hunting-whistle. 

In the club patio, Raimonda was chafing and wondering, and a scoreof his friends were drinking and waiting. That signal releasedtheir activities and terminated the battle of the AmericanLegation most ingloriously for the forces of Urgante. For thegilded youth of Caracuna bears a heavy cane of fashion, andcarries a ready revolver, also, although not so admittedly as amatter of fashion. Furthermore, he has a profound contempt for thepeon class; a contempt extending to life and limb. Therefore, whensome two dozen young patricians sallied abruptly forth with theircanes, and the mob caught sight, here and there, of a glint ofnickel against the black, it gave back promptly. Some desultorystones rattled against the walls. There were answering reports afew, and sundry yells of pain. The army of Urgante broke and fleddown the side streets, leaving behind its broken and its wounded. Most of the bullet casualties were below the knee. The Caracunanaristocrat always fires low--the first time. 

Shortly thereafter, Miss Polly Brewster appeared upon the balconyof the American Legation, and performed an illegal act. Upon a daynot designated as a Caracunan national holiday, she raised theflag of an alien nation and fixed it, and the gilded youth ofCaracuna in the street below cheered, not the flag, which wouldhave been unpatriotic, but the flag-raiser, which was but gallant, until they were hoarse and parched of throat. 

XI

PRESTO CHANGE

After the battle, Miss Brewster reviewed her troops, and tookstock of casualties, in the patio. None of the allied forces hadcome off scatheless. Galpy, whose injuries had at first seemed themost severe, responded to a stiff dose of brandy. A cut across thescientist's head had been hastily bandaged in a towel, giving him, as he observed, the appearance of a dissipated Hindu. To VonPlaanden's indignant disgust, his military splendor was seriouslyimpaired by a huge "hickey" over his left eye, the memento of awell-aimed rock. Cluff had broken a finger and sprained his wrist. Mr. Brewster was anxious to know if any one had seen two teeth ofhis on the pavement or whether he was to look for later digestiveindications of their whereabouts. Both of the young cricketers hadbeen battered and bruised, though it was nothing, they gleefullyaverred, to what they had meted out. And Carroll had a nasty-looking knife-thrust in his shoulder. 

All of them were disheveled, dilapidated, and grimy to the lastdegree, except the Hochwaldian, who still sat his horse, which hehad ridden into the patio. But Miss Polly said to herself, with athrill of pride, that no woman need wish a more gallant anddevoted band of defenders. Leaning over them from the innerrailing of the balcony, she surveyed them with sparkling eyes. 

"It was magnificent!" she cried. "Oh, I'm so proud of you all! Icould hug you, every one!"

"Better come down from there, Polly, " said her father anxiously. "Some of those ruffians might come back. "

"Not to-day, " said Sherwen grimly. "They've had enough. "

"That is correct, " confirmed Von Plaanden. "Nevertheless, theremay be disorder later. Would it not be better that you go to theBritish Legation, Fraulein?"

"Not I!" she returned. "I stay by my colors. And now I'm going todisband my army. "

Stretching out her hand to a vase near her, she drew out a rose ofdeepest red and held it above Von Plaanden. 

"The color of my country, " said Von Plaanden gravely. "May I takeit for a sign that I am forgiven?"

"Fully, freely, and gladly, " said the girl. "You have put a debtupon us all that I--that we can never repay. "

"It is I who pay. You will not think of me too hardly, for my onebreach?"

"I shall think of you as a hero, " said the girl impetuously. "AndI shall never forget. Catch, O knight. "

The rose fell, and was caught. Von Plaanden bowed low over it. Then he straightened to the military salute, and so rode out ofthe door and out of the girl's life. 

"Men are strange creatures, " mused the philosopher of twenty. "Youthink they are perfectly horrid, and suddenly they show theirother side to you, and you think they are perfectly splendid. Iwish I knew a little more about real people. "

She confessed to no more specific thought, but as she descendedthe stairs to bid farewell to the blushing and deprecatoryBritons, she was eager to have it over with, and to come to speechwith her beetle man, who had so strangely flamed into action. TheUnspeakable Perk! As the name formed on her lips, she smiledtenderly. With sad lack of logic, she was ready to discard everysuspicion of him that she had harbored, merely on the strength ofhis reckless outbreak of patriotism. She looked about the patio, but he was not there. Sherwen came out of a side door, his facepuckered with anxiety. 

"Where is Mr. Perkins?" she asked. 

"In there. " He nodded back over his shoulder. "Your father is withhim. Perhaps you'd better go in. "

With a chill at her heart, Polly entered the room, where Mr. Brewster bent a troubled face over a head swathed in reddenedbandages. 

Very crumpled and limp looked the Unspeakable Perk, bunchedhumpily upon the little sofa. His goggles had fallen off, and layon the floor beside him, contriving somehow to look momentouslysolemn and important all by themselves. His face was turned halfaway, and, as Polly's gaze fell upon it, she felt again that queercatch at her heart. 

"Wouldn't know it was the same chap, would you?" whispered Mr. Brewster. 

The girl picked up the grotesque spectacles, cradling them for aninstant in her hands before she put them aside and leaned over thequiet form. 

"Came staggering in, and just collapsed down there, " continued herfather huskily. "Lord, I wouldn't lose that boy after this for amillion dollars!"

"Why do you talk that way?" she demanded sharply. "What hashappened? Did he faint?"

"Just collapsed. When I tried to rouse him, he kicked me in thechest, " replied the magnate, with somber seriousness. 

"Oh, you goose of a dad!" There was a tremulous note in Polly'slow laughter. "That's all right, then. Can't you see he's dead forsleep, poor beetle man?"

"Do you think so?" said Mr. Brewster, vastly relieved. "Hadn't Ibetter go out for a doctor, and make sure?"

She shook her head. 

"Let him rest. Hand me that pillow, please, dad. "

With soft little pushes and wedges she worked it under thescientist's head. "What a dreadful botch of bandaging! He looks sopale! I wonder if I couldn't get those cloths off. Lend me yourknife, dad. "

Gently as she worked, the head on the pillow began to sway, andthe lips to move. 

"Oh, let me alone!" they muttered querulously. 

The eyes opened. The Unspeakable Perk gazed up into the facesabove him, but saw only one, a face whose tender concern softenedit to a loveliness greater even than when he had last seen it. Hetried to rise, but the hands that pressed him back were firm andquick. 

"Lie still!" bade their owner. 

A thin film of color mounted to his cheeks. 

"I--I--beg your pardon, " he stammered. "I--I--d-didn't know--"

"Don't be a goose!" she adjured him. "It's only me. "

"Yes, that's the trouble. " He closed his eyes again, and began tomurmur. 

"What does he say?" asked Mr. Brewster, lowering his head andalmost falling over backward as his astonished ears were greetedby the slowly intoned rhythm:--

 "Scarab, tarantula, doodle-bug, flea. "

"Delirious!" exclaimed the magnate. "Clean off his head! How doesone find a doctor in this town?"

"No need, dad, " his daughter reassured him. "It's just a--a sortof game. "

"Game! Did you hear what he said?"

"Well, a kind of password. It's all right, Dad. It is, really. "

Still undecided, Mr. Brewster stared at the injured man. 

"I don't know--" he began, when the eyes opened again. 

"Feeling better?" inquired Polly briskly. 

"Yes. The charm works perfectly. "

"Anything I can do, or get, for you, my boy?" inquired Mr. Brewster, stepping forward. 

"What's in the ice-box?" asked the other anxiously. 

"Oh!" cried the girl in distress. "He's starving! When did you eatlast?"

"I can't exactly remember. It was about five this morning, Ithink. A banana, and, as I recall it, a small one. "

"Dad!" cried the girl, but that prompt and efficient gentleman wasalready halfway to the cook, dragging Sherwen along asinterpreter. 

"He'll get whatever there is in the shortest known time, " the girlassured her patient. "Trust dad. Now, you lie back and let me fixup a fresh bandage. "

"You'd have made a great trained nurse, " he murmured, as sheadjusted the clean strips that Sherwen had sent in. "Don't pin myear down. It's got to help hold my goggles on. "

"The dear funny goggles!" Picking them up, she patted them withdainty fingers, before setting them aside. He watched heruneasily, much in the manner of a dog whose bone has been takenaway. 

"Do you mind giving them back?" he said. 

"But you're not going to wear them here, " she protested. 

"I've got so used to them, " he explained apologetically, "that Idon't feel really dressed without them. "

She handed them back and he adjusted them to the bandages. "Forthe present, rest is prescribed you know, " said she. 

"Oh, no!" he declared. "As soon as I've had something to eat, I'llgo. There are a hundred things to be done. Where are my gloves?"

"What gloves? Oh, those white abominations? Why on earth do youwear them?" Her glance fell upon his right hand, which lay half-open beside him. "Oh--oh--oh!" she cried in a rising scale ofdistress. "What have you done to your hands?"

He reddened perceptibly. 

"Nothing. "

"Nothing, indeed! Tell me at once!"

"I've been rowing. "

"Where to?"

"Oh, out to a ship. "

"There aren't any ships, except the Dutch warship. Was it to her?"

"Yes. "

"To carry our message--MY message?"

He squirmed. 

"I'm awfully sleepy, " he protested. "It isn't fair to cross-examine a witness--"

"When was it?" his ruthless interrogator broke in. 

"Night before last. "

"How far?"

"How can I tell? Not far. A few miles. "

"And back. And it took you all night, " she accused. 

"What if it did?" he cried peevishly. "A man's got to have somerelief from work, hasn't he? It was livelier than sitting allnight with one's eye glued to a microscope barrel!"

"Oh, beetle man, beetle man! I don't know about you at all. Whatkind of a strange queer creature are you? Have you wings, Mr. Beetle Man?"

Suddenly she bent over and laid her soft lips upon the scarifiedpalm. The Unspeakable Perk sat up, with a half-cry. 

"Now the other one, " said the girl. Her face was a mantle of rose-color, but her eyes shone. 

"I won't! You shan't!"

"The other one!" she commanded imperiously. 

"Please, Miss Brewster--"

A noise at the door saved him. There stood Thatcher Brewster, magnate, multi-millionaire, and master of men, a huge tray in hishands. 

"Beefsteak, fried potatoes, alligator pear, fresh bread, REALbutter, coffee, AND cake, " he proclaimed jovially. "Not to mentiona cocktail, which I compounded with my own skilled hands. Are youready, my boy? Go!"

The Unspeakable Perk leaped from his couch. 

"Food!" he cried. "Real American food! The perfume of it is asquare meal. "

"You're much gladder to see it than you were me, " pouted MissPolly. 

"I'm not half as afraid of it, " he admitted. "Mr. Brewster, yourhealth. "

"Here's to you, my boy. Now I'll leave you with your nurse, andmake my final arrangements. We're off by special in the morning. "

"That's fine!" said the scientist. 

But Miss Polly Brewster caught the turn of his head in herdirection, and saw that his fork had slackened in his hand. Something tightened around her heart. 

As he went, her father considered her for a moment, and wondered. Never before had he seen such a look in her eyes as that which shehad turned on the queer, vivid stranger so busily engaged at thetray. Polly, and this obscure scientist! After the kind of menwhom the girl had known, enslaved, and eluded! Absurd! Yet if itwere to be--Mr. Brewster reviewed the events of the afternoon--well, it might be worse. 

"By the Lord Harry, he's a MAN, anyway!" decided ThatcherBrewster. 

Meanwhile, the subject of his musings began to feel like a manonce more, instead of like a lath. Having wrought havoc among theedibles, he rose with a sigh. 

"If I could have one hour's sleep, " he said mournfully, "I'd befit as a cricket. "

"You shall, " said the girl. "Mr. Sherwen says he won't let you outof the house until it's dark. And that's fully an hour. "

"I ought to be on my way back now. "

"Back where? To your mountains?"

"Yes. "

"You'd be recognized and attacked before you could get out of thecity. I won't let you. "

"That wouldn't do, for a fact. Perhaps it would be safer to wait. I've made enough trouble for one day by my blunder-headedthoughtlessness. "

"Is that what you call rescuing the flag?"

"Oh, rescuing!" he said slightingly. "What difference does it makewhat vermin like that mob do? Just for a whim, to endanger all ofyou. "

She stared at him in amaze and suspicion. But he was quite honest. 

"MY whim, " she reminded him. 

"Yes; I suppose it was, " he admitted thoughtfully. "When I saw youcrying, I lost my head, and acted like a child. "

"Then it was all my fault?"

"Oh, I don't say that. Certainly not. I'm master of my ownactions. If I hadn't wanted--"

"But it was my fault this much, anyway, that you wouldn't havedone it except for me. "

"Yes; it was your fault to that extent, " he said honestly. "I hopeyou don't mind my saying so. "

"Oh, beetle man, beetle man!" She leaned forward, her eyes deep-lit pools of mirth and mockery and some more occult feeling thathe could not interpret. "Would it scare you quite out of yourpoor, queer wits if I were to HUG you? Don't call for help. I'mnot really going to do it. "

"I know you're not, " said he dolefully. "But about that row, Iwant to set myself right. I'm no fool. I know it took a certainamount of nerve to go down there. And I was even proud of it, in away. And when Von Plaanden turned and gave me the salute before hewent away, I liked it quite a good deal. "

"Did he do that? I love him for it!" cried the girl. 

"But my point is this, that what I did wasn't sound common sense. Now if Carroll had done it, it would have been all right. "

"Why for him and not for you?"

"Because those are his principles. They're not mine. "

"I wish you weren't quite so contemptuous of poor Fitz. It seemshardly fair. "

"Contemptuous of him? I'd give half my life to be in his placeafter to-morrow. "

"Why?" There was a flutter in her throat as she put the question. 

"Because he's going with you, isn't he?"

"So are you, if you will. "

"I can't. "

"Father won't go without you, I believe. Won't you come, if I askyou?"

"No. "

"Work, I suppose, " said the girl; "the work that you love betterthan anything in the world. "

"You're wrong there. " His voice was not quite steady now. "Butit's work that has to have my first consideration now. And thereis one special responsibility that I can't evade, for the present, anyway. "

"And afterward?" She dared not look at him as she spoke. 

"Ah, afterward. There's too much 'perhaps' in the afterward downhere. We science grubbers on the outposts enlist for the term ofthe war, " he said, smiling wanly. 

"How can I--can we go and leave you here?" she demandedobstinately. 

"Oh, give me a square meal once in a while, and a night's resthere and there, and I'll do well enough. "

"Oh, dear! I forgot your sleep. Here I've been chattering like amagpie. Take off your coat and lie down on that sofa at once. "

"Where shall I find you when I wake up?"

"Right where you leave me when you fall asleep. "

"Oh, no! You mustn't wear yourself out watching over me. "

"Hush! You're under orders. Give me the coat. " She hung it on theback of a chair. "Not another word now. And I'll call you whentime is up. "

He closed his eyes, and the girl sat studying his face in the dimlight, graving it deep on her inner vision, seeking to formulatesome conception of the strange being so still and placid beforeher. How had she ever thought him ridiculous and uncouth? How hadshe ever dared to insult him by distrust? What did it matter whatother men, estimating him by their own sordid standards, said ofhim? As if her thought had established a connection with his, heopened his eyes and sat up. 

"I knew there was something I wanted to ask you, " he said. "Whatdid your 'Never, never, never' mean?"

"A foolish misunderstanding that I'm ashamed of. "

"Was it that--that woman-gossip business?"

"Yes. I was stupid. Will you forgive me?"

"What is there to forgive? Some time, perhaps, you'll understandthe whole thing. "

"Please don't let's say anything more about it. I do understand. "

This was not quite true. All that Polly Brewster knew was that, with those clear gray eyes meeting hers, she would have believedhis honor clean and high against the world. The presence of thewoman, even that dress fluttering in the wind, was susceptible ofa hundred simple explanations. 

"Ah, that's all right, then. " There was relief in his tone. "Ofcourse, in a place like this there is a lot of gossip andcriticism. And when one runs counter to the general law--""Counter to the law?"

"Yes. As a rule, I'm not 'beyond the pale of law, '" he said, smiling. "But down here one isn't bound by the same conventions asat home. "

The girl's hand went to her throat in a piteous gesture. 

"I--I--don't understand. I don't want to understand. "

"There's got to be a certain broad-mindedness in these matters, "he blundered on, with what seemed to her outraged senses anabominable jauntiness. "But the risk was small for me, and, ofcourse, for her, anything was better than the other life. At that, I don't see how the truth reached you. What is it, Miss Polly?"

Rage, grief, and shame choked the girl's utterance. 

Without a word, she ran from the room, leaving her companion aprey to troubled wonder. 

In the patio, she turned sharply to avoid a group gathered aroundGalpy, who, with a patch over one eye, was trying to impart somenews between gasps. 

"Got it from the bulletin board of La Liberdad, " he cried. "Killed; body gone; devil to pay all over the place. "

"What's that?" demanded the Unspeakable Perk, running out, coatless and goggleless. 

"There's been another riot, and Dr. Luther Pruyn is killed, "explained Sherwen. 

"Who says so?"

"Bulletin board--La Liberdad--just saw it, " panted Galpy. 

"Nonsense! It's a bola"

"The whole city is ringing with it. They say it was a plot to gethim out of the way to stop quarantine. The Foreign Office isbuzzing with inquiries, and Puerto del Norte is burning up thewires. "

"Puerto del Norte! How did they hear?"

"Telephone, of course. I hear Wisner is coming up, " said Sherwen. 

"I've got to get a wire to the port at once, " cried the scientist. "At once!"

"You! What for?"

"To stop off Wisner. To tell him it isn't so. "

"You're excited, my boy, " said Mr. Brewster kindly. "Better liedown again. "

"It's true, right enough, " said the Englishman. "Sir Willet'scochero saw the mob get him. "

"When? Where?" asked Fitzhugh Carroll. 

"Haven't got any details, but the Government admits it. "

"I don't care if the President and his whole cabinet swear to it, "vociferated the Unspeakable Perk. "It's a fake. How can I getPuerto del Norte, Mr. Sherwen?"

"You can't get it at all for any such purpose. How do you knowit's a fake?"

"How do I know? Oh, dammit! I'M Luther Pruyn!"

He snatched off his glasses and faced them. 

The little group stood petrified. Mr. Brewster was first torecover. 

"Crazy, poor chap!" he said. "Luther Pruyn was my classmate. "

"That's my father, Luther L. "

"Proofs, " said Sherwen sharply. 

"In my coat pocket. In the room. Can I have your wire, Mr. Sherwen?"

"It's cut. "

"Come to the railway wire, " offered Galpy. "My eye! Wot a game!"

The two men ran out, the scientist leaving behind coat andgoggles. 

"It was our little mix-up that started the rumor, " said Carrollthoughtfully. "Somebody recognized Perk--Dr. Pruyn. "

"When his glasses fell off, " said CLuff. "They're some disguise. "

"He's Luther Pruyn, sure enough!" said Mr. Sherwen, emerging fromthe room. "Here's the proof. " He held out an official-lookingdocument. "An order from the Dutch Naval Office, made out in hisname. "

"What does it say?" asked Carroll. 

"I'm not much of a hand at Dutch, but it seems to direct theblockading warship to receive Dr. Luther Pruyn and wife and conveythem to Curacao. "

"And wife!" exclaimed Cluff loudly. He whistled as a vent to hisamazement. "That explains all the talk about a woman--a lady inhis quinta on the mountains?"

"Apparently, " said Carroll. "May I see that document, Mr. Sherwen?"

The American representative handed him the paper. As he wasstudying it, Galpy reentered, still scant of breath fromexcitement and haste. "He's gone back to the mountains, " heannounced. "Sent word for you to get to the port before dawn, ifyou have to walk. See Mr. Wisner there. He'll arrange everything. "

"Will Mr. Perk--Dr. Pruyn be there?" asked Mr. Brewster. 

"He didn't say. "

"But he's gone without his coat!"

"And goggles, " said Cluff. 

"And his pass, " added Sherwen. 

"Trust him to come back for them when he gets ready. He's a rumjosser for doing things his own way. Now, about the train. " AndGalpy outlined the plan of departure to the men, who, exceptCarroll, had gathered about him. The Southerner, unnoticed, hadslipped into the room where the scientist's coat lay. Coming outby the lower door, he was intercepted by Miss Polly Brewster. Heinterpreted the misery in her face, and turned sick at heart withthe pain of what it told him. 

"You heard?" he asked. 

She nodded. "Is it true? Did you see the permit yourself?"

"Yes. Here it is. "

"I don't want to see it. It doesn't matter, " she said, with utterweariness in her voice. "When do we leave? I want to go home. Sendfather to me, please, Fitz. "

Mr. Brewster came to her, bearing the news that the sailing wasset for the morrow. 

"I'm glad to know that Dr. And Mrs. Pruyn are provided for, " sheremarked, so casually that the troubled father drew a breath ofrelief, concluding that he must have misinterpreted the girl'sinterest in the man behind the goggles. 

On his way to the patio, he passed through the room where thescientist had lain. He came out looking perturbed. 

"Has any one been in that room just now?" he asked Sherwen. 

"Not that I've seen. "

"The coat and the other things are not there. "

Inquiry and search alike proved unavailing. Not until an hourlater did they discover that Carroll had also disappeared. Sherwenfound a note from him on the office desk:--

Please look after my luggage. Will join the others at the yachtto-morrow. 

P. F. F. C. 

XII

THE WOMAN AT THE QUINTA

Thanks to his rival's map, Carroll had little difficulty infinding the trail to the mountain quinta. A brilliant new moonhelped to make easy the ascent. What course he would pursue uponhis arrival he had not clearly defined to himself. That woulddepend largely upon the attitude of the man he was seeking. Theflame of battle, still hot from the afternoon's melee, burned highin the Southerner's soul, for he was not of those whose spiritrapidly cools. Bitter resentment on behalf of Miss Polly Brewsterfanned that flame. On one point he was determined: neither he northe so-called Perkins should leave the mountain until he had hadfrom the latter's own lips a full explanation. 

Coming out into the open space, he got his first glimpse of thequinta. It was dark, except for one low light. From the fartherside there came faintly to his ear a rhythmical sound, with briefintervals of quiet, as if some one hard at labor were stoppingfrom time to time for breath. At that distance, Carroll could notinterpret the sound, but some unidentified quality of it struckchill upon his fancy. Long experience in the woods had made him agood trailsman. He proceeded cautiously until he reached the edgeof the clearing. 

The sound had stopped now, but he thought he could hear heavybreathing from beyond the house. As he moved toward that side, asmall but malevolent-looking snake slithered out from beneath abush near by. Involuntarily he leaped aside. As he landed, a roundpebble slipped under his foot. He flung up his arm. It met the lowbranch of a tree, and saved him a fall. But the thrashing of theleaves made a startling noise in the moonlit stillness. The snakewent on about its business. 

"Hola!" challenged a voice around the angle of the house. 

Carroll recognized the voice. He stepped out of the shadows andstrode across the open space. At the corner of the house he metthe muzzle of a revolver pointing straight at the pit of hisstomach. Back of it were the steady and now goggleless eyes ofLuther Pruyn. 

"I am unarmed, " said Carroll. 

"Ah, it's you!" said the other. He lowered his weapon, carefullywhirled the cylinder to bring the hammer opposite an emptychamber, and dropped it in his pocket. "What do you want?"

"An explanation. "

"Quite so, " said the other coolly. "I'd forgotten that I invitedyou here. How long had you been watching me?"

"I saw you only when you came out from behind the house. "

"And you wish to know about--about my companion in this place?"continued the other in an odd tone. 

"Yes. "

"Understand that I don't admit that you have the smallest right. But to clear up a situation which no longer exists, I'm ready tosatisfy you. Come in. "

He held open the door of the room where the lone light wasburning. In the middle of the floor was spread a sheet, beneathwhich a form was outlined in grisly significance. Carroll's hostlifted the cover. 

The woman was white-haired, frail, and wrinkled. One side of herface shone in the lamplight with a strange hue, like tarnishedsilver. In her throat was a small bluish wound; opposite it agaping hole. 

"Shot!" exclaimed Carroll. "Who did it?"

"Some high-minded Caracunan patriot, I suppose. "

"Why?"

"Well, I suspect that it was a mistake. From a distance and insidea window, she might easily have been taken for some one else. "

Carroll's mind reverted to his companion's ready revolver. 

"Yourself, for instance?" he suggested. 

"Why, yes. "

"Who was she?"

There was left in the Southerner's manner no trace of the cross-examiner. Suspicion had departed from him at the first sight ofthat old and still face, leaving only sympathy and pity. 

"My patient. "

"Have you been running a private hospital up here?"

"Oh, no. I took her because there was no other place fit for herto go to. And I had to keep her presence secret, because there's alaw against harboring lepers here. A pretty cruel brute of a lawit is, too. "

"Leprosy!" exclaimed Carroll, looking at that strange silvery facewith a shudder. "Isn't it fearfully contagious?"

"Not in any ordinary sense. I was trying a new serum on her, andhad planned to smuggle her across to Curacao, when this ended it. "

"Curacao? Then that pass for yourself and wife--By the way, thatand your coat are over in the thicket, where I dropped them. "

"Thank you. But it doesn't say 'wife. ' It says simply 'a woman. '"

"And you were encumbering yourself with an unknown leper, at atime like this, just as an act of human kindness?" There wassomething almost reverential in Carroll's voice. 

"Scientific interest, in part. Besides, she wasn't wholly unknown. She's a sort of cousin of Raimonda's. "

Carroll's mind flew back to his fatally misinterpretedconversation with the young Caracunan. 

"What did he mean by letting me think that you shouldn't associatewith Miss Polly?"

"Oh, he had the usual erroneous dread of leprosy contagion, Isuppose. "

"May I ask you another question, Mr. Per--I beg your pardon, Dr. Pruyn?" said the visitor, almost timidly. 

"Perkins will do. " The other smiled wanly. "Ask me anything youwant to. "

"Why did you run away that day on the tram-car?"

"To avoid trouble, of course. "

"You? Why, you go about searching for dangerous and difficultjobs. That won't do!"

"Not at all. It's only when I can't get away from them. But Icouldn't risk arrest then. Some one would surely have recognizedme as Luther Pruyn. You see, I've been here before. "

"Then I don't see why they didn't identify you, anyway. "

"Three years ago I was much heavier, and wore a full beard. Thenthese glasses, besides being invaluable for protection, are apretty thorough disguise. "

"So they are. But the game is up now. "

"Yes. " The scientist drew the sheet back over the dead woman. "Isuppose the sharp-shooters who did the job will report me safelyout of the way. It's only a question of when the burial party willcome for me. "

"Then, why are we waiting?" cried Carroll. 

"I couldn't leave her lying here, " replied the other simply. 

The sound of rhythmical labor came back to Carroll's memory. 

"You were digging her grave?"

The other nodded. Carroll, stiffly, for his knifed arm waspainful, got out of his coat. 

"Where's an extra spade?" he asked. 

When their labor was over, and the leper laid beneath the leveledsoil, Carroll cut two branches from a near-by tree, trimmed them, bound them in the form of a cross, and fixed the symbol firmly inthe earth at the dead woman's head. 

"That was well thought of, " said the scientist. "I'm afraid thatwouldn't have occurred to me. "

"You can get word to Senor Raimonda?" asked Carroll. 

His host nodded. A long silence followed. Carroll broke it:--

"Then there is no further secrecy about this?"

"About what?"

"Her identity. " He pointed to the grave. 

"No; I suppose not. Why?"

"Because Miss Brewster has a right to know. "

"Do you propose to tell her?"

"Yes. "

"Very well, " agreed the scientist, after a pause forconsideration. "But not until after the yacht is at sea. "

Carroll did not reply directly to this. 

"What shall you do?"

"Get out, if I can. I'm ordered to Curacao. Wisner left word forme. "

"Come down the mountain with me. "

"Impossible. There are matters here to be attended to. "

"Then when will you come down?"

"Before you sail. I must be sure that you get off. "

"You'll come to the yacht, then?"

"No. "

"I think you should. There are reasons why--why--Miss Brewster--"

"It isn't a question that I can argue, " the other cut him off. "Ican't do it. " There was so much pain in his voice that Carrollforbore to press him. "But I'll ask you to take a note. "

Carroll nodded, and his host, disappearing within the quinta, returned almost at once with an envelope on which the address waswritten in pencil. The Southerner took it and rose from the porch, where he had flung himself to rest. 

"Perkins, " he said, with some effort, "I've thought and said somehard things about you. "

"Naturally enough, " murmured the other. 

"Do you want me to apologize?"

The scientist stared. "Do you want me to thank you for to-night'swork?" he countered. 

"No. "

"Well--"

"All right. "

The two men, different in every quality except that of essentialmanhood, smiled at each other with a profound mutualunderstanding. There was a silent handshake, and Carroll set offdown the mountain toward the sunrise glow. 

XIII

LEFT BEHIND

Dawn crested, poised, and broke in a surf of splendor upon thegreat mountain-line that overhangs Puerto del Norte. Where, atthe corporation dock, there had lurked the shadow of a yacht, gray-black against blue-black, there now swung a fairy ship ofpurest silver, cradled upon a swaying mirror. Tiny insects, touched to life by the radiance, scuttled busily about her decksand swarmed out upon the dock. The seagoing yacht Polly hadawakened early. 

Down the mule path that forms the shortest cut from the railwaystation straggled a group of minute creatures. To one watchingfrom the mountain-side with powerful field-glasses--such as, forexample, a convinced and ardent hater of the Caribbean Sea, curledup with his back against a cold and Voiceless rock--it might haveappeared that the group was carrying an unusual quantity of handluggage. Yet they were not porters; so much, even at a greatdistance, their apparel proclaimed. The pirates of porterdom donot get up to meet five-o'clock-in-the-morning specials inCaracuna. 

The little group gathered close at the pier, then separated, twogoing aboard, and the others disappearing into sundry streets andreappearing presently at the water-front with other figures. Thehuman form cannot be distinctly seen, at a distance of threemiles, to rub its eyes; neither can it be heard to curse; butthere was that in the newer figures which suggested a sudden andreluctant surrender of sleeping privileges. Had our supposititiouswatcher possessed an intimate and contemptuous knowledge ofCaracuna officialdom, he would have surmised that lavish sums ofmoney had been employed to stir the port and customs officials tosuch untimely activity. 

But not money or any other agency is potent to stir Caracunanofficialdom to undue speed. Hence the observer from the heights, supposing that he had a personal interest in the proceedings, might have assured himself of ample time to reach the coast beforethe formalities could be completed and the ship put forth to sea. Had he presently humped himself to his feet with a sluggisheffort, abandoned his field-glasses in favor of a pair of largegreenish-brown goggles, and set out on a trail straight down themountains, staggering a bit at the start, a second supposititiousobserver of the first supposititious observer--if such cumulativehypothesis be permissible--might have divined that the firstsupposititious observer was the Unspeakable Perk, going aboutother people's business when he ought to have been in bed. And so, not to keep any reader in unendurable suspense, it was. 

While the Unspeakable Perk was making his way down the dim andnarrow trail, another equally weary figure shambled out from themain road upon the flats and made for the landing. The apparel ofMr. Preston Fairfax Fitzhugh Carroll was in a condition that hewould have deemed quite unfit for one of his station, had he beenin a frame of mind to consider such matters at all. He was not. Affairs vastly more weighty and human occupied his mind. What hemost wished was to find Miss Polly Brewster and unburden himselfof them. 

At the entrance to the pier, he was detained by the AmericanConsul. Cluff came running down the long structure in greatstrides. 

"Moses, Carroll! I'm glad to see you! Where've you been?"

A week earlier, the scion of all the Virginias would have resentedthis familiarity from a professional athlete. But neither Mr. Carroll's mind nor his heart was a sealed inclosure. He hadlearned much in the last few days. 

"Up on the mountain, " he said. "For Heaven's sake, give me adrink, Cluff!"

The other produced a flask. 

"You do look shot to pieces, " he commented. "Find Perk--Pruyn?"

"Yes. I'll tell you later. Where's Miss Brewster?"

"In her stateroom. Asleep, I guess. Said she wanted rest, andnobody was to disturb her till we sail. "

"When do we start?"

"Eight o'clock, they say. That means ten. Will Dr. Pruyn gethere?"

"He isn't going with us. "

"Oh, no. I forgot his Dutch permit. Well, he'd better use itquick, or he'll go in a box when he does go. I wouldn't insure hislife for a two-cent stamp in this country. "

"You wouldn't if you'd seen what I saw last night, " said theSoutherner, very low. 

Wisner, the busy, efficient little consul, who had been arrangingwith the officials for Carroll's embarkation, now returned, bringing with him a viking of a man whom he introduced as Dr. Stark, of the United States Public Health Service. 

"Either of you know anything about Dr. Pruyn?" he inquiredanxiously. 

"He's on his way down the mountain now, " said Carroll. 

"Good! He's ordered away, I'm glad to say. Just got the message. "

"Then perhaps he will go out with us, " said Cluff, with obviousrelief. "I sure did hate to think of leaving that boy here, withthe game laws for goggle-eyed Americans entirely suspended. "

"No. He's ordered to Curacao to stay and watch. We've got to gethim out to the Dutch ship somehow. "

"Couldn't the yacht take him and transfer him outside?" askedCarroll. 

"Mr. Carroll, " said Dr. Stark earnestly, "before this yacht ismany minutes out from the dock, you'll see a yellow flag go upfrom the end of the corporation pier. After that, if the yachtturns aside or comes back for a package that some one has left, ordoes anything but hold the straightest course on the compass forthe blue and open sea--well, she'll be about the foolishest craftthat ever ploughed salt water. "

"I suppose so, " admitted Carroll. "Well, I have matters to lookafter on board. "

Into Mr. Carroll's cabin it is nobody's business to follow him. Aman has a right to some privacy of room and of mind, and if theSoutherner's struggle with himself was severe, at least it was ofbrief duration. Within half an hour, he was knocking at PollyBrewster's door. 

"PLEASE go 'way, whoever it is, " answered a pathetically wearyvoice. 

"Miss Polly, it's Fitzhugh. I have a note for you. "

"Leave it in the saloon. "

"It's important that you see it right away. "

"From whom is it?" queried the spent voice. 

"From Dr. Pruyn. "

"I--I don't want to see it. "

"You must!" insisted her suitor. 

"Did he say I must?"

"No. I say you must. Forgive me, Miss Polly, but I'm going to waithere till you say you'll read it. "

"Push it under the door, " said the girl resignedly. 

He obeyed. Polly took the envelope, summoned up all her spirit, and opened it. It contained one penciled line and the signature:--

Good-bye. All my heart goes with you forever. L. P. 

Something fluttered from the envelope to her feet. She stooped andpicked it up. It was the tiniest and most delicate of orchids, purple, with a glow of gold at its heart. To her inflamed pride, it seemed the final insult that he should send such a message andsuch a reminder, without a word of explanation or plea for pardon. Pardon she never would have granted, but at least he might havehad the grace of shame. 

"Have you read it?" asked the patient voice from without. 

"Yes. There is no answer. "

"Dr. Pruyn said there wouldn't be. "

"Then why are you waiting?"

"To see you. "

"Oh, Fitz, I'm too worn out, and I've a splitting headache. Won'tit wait?"

"No. " The voice was gently inflexible. 

"More messages?"

"No; something I must tell you. Will you come out?"

"I suppose so. "

Her tone was utterly listless and limp. Utterly listless and limp, she looked, too, as she opened the door and stood waiting. 

"Miss Polly, it's about the woman at Perkins's--at Dr. Pruyn'shouse. "

Her eyes dilated with anger. 

"I won't hear! How dare you come to me--"

"You must! Don't make it harder for me than it is. "

She looked up, startled, and noted the haggard lines in his face. 

"I'll hear it if you think I should, Fitz. "

"She is dead. "

"Dead? His--his wife?"

"She wasn't his wife. She was a helpless leper, whom he was tryingto cure with some new serum. He had to do it secretly becausethere is a law forbidding any one to harbor a leper. "

"Oh, Fitz!" she cried. "And she died of it?"

"No. They killed her. Last night. "

"They? Who?"

"Government agents, probably. They were after Pruyn. "

"How horrible! And--and Mrs. Pruyn. Where was she?"

"There isn't any Mrs. Pruyn. There never was. "

"But the Dutch permit! It was for Dr. Pruyn and his wife. "

"Sherwen misread the form. So did I. It read for Dr. Pruyn and awoman. He hoped to take her to Curacao and complete hisexperiment. "

"That's what he meant when he spoke of being lawless, and I'vebeen thinking the basest things of him for it!" The girl, dazed bya flash of complete enlightenment, caught at Carroll's arm withbeseeching hands. "Where is he, Fitz?"

"On his way down the mountain. Perhaps down here by now. "

"He's coming to the ship?" she asked. 

"No; he doesn't expect to see you again. He was coming down tomake sure that we got off safely. "

"Fitz, dear Fitz, I must see him!"

"Miss Polly, " he said miserably, "I'll do anything I can. "

"Oh, poor Fitz!" she cried pityingly, her eyes filling with tears. "I wish for your sake it wasn't so. And you have been so splendidabout it!"

"I've tried to make amends, and play fair. It hasn't been easy. Shall I go back and look for him? It's a small town, and I canfind him. "

"Yes. I'll write a note. No; I won't. Never mind. I'll manage it. Fitz, go and rest. You're worn out, " she said gently. 

Back into her stateroom went Miss Polly. From that time forth noman saw her nor woman, either, except perhaps her maid, and maidsare dark and discreet persons on occasion. If this particular onekept her own counsel when she saw a trim but tremulous figure droplightly over the starboard rail of the Polly far forward, pick upa small traveling-bag from the pier, step behind the opportunescreen of a load of coffee on a flat car, and reappear to viewonly as a momentary swish of skirt far away at the shore end; ifthis same maid told Mr. Thatcher Brewster, half an hour later, that Miss Polly was asleep in her stateroom, and begged that shebe disturbed on no account, as she was utterly worn out, who shallblame her for her silence on the one occasion or her speech on theother? She was but obeying, albeit with tearful misgivings, dulyconstituted authority. 

Eight o'clock struck on the bell of the little Protestant missionchurch on the tiny plaza; struck and was welcomed by the echoes, and passed along to eventual silence. Within two minutes after, there was a special stir and movement on the pier, a correspondingstir and movement on board the trim craft, a swishing of greatropes, and a tooting of whistles. White foam churned astern ofher. A comic-supplement-looking pelican on a buoy off to portflapped her a fantastic farewell. The blockade-defying yachtPolly was off for blue waters and the freedom of the seas. 

On the shore, feeling woefully helpless and alone, she who hadbeen the jewel and joy of the Polly bit her lips and closed hereyes, in a tremulous struggle against the dismal fear:--

"Suppose he doesn't love me, after all!"

XIV

THE YELLOW FLAG

The departing whistle of the yacht Polly struck sharply to theheart of a desolate figure seated on a bench in the blazing, dusty, public square of Puerto del Norte, waiting out his firstday of pain. A kiskadee bird, the only other creature foolishenough to risk the hot bleakness of the plaza at that hour, flitted into a dust-coated palm, inspected him, put a tentativequery or two, decided that he was of no possible interest, andleft the Unspeakable Perk to his own cogitations. 

So deep in wretchedness were the cogitations that he did not hearthe light, hesitant footstep. But he felt in every vein and fiberthe appealing touch on his shoulder. 

"Good God! What are YOU doing here?" he cried, leaping to hisfeet. There was no awkwardness or shyness in his speech now; onlywonder-stricken joy. 

"I came back to see you. "

"But the yacht! Your ship!"

"She has left. "

"No! She mustn't! Not without you! You can't stay here. It's toodangerous. "

"I must. They think I'm aboard. I left a note for papa. He won'tget it until they're at sea. And they can't come back for me, canthey?"

"No--yes--they must! I must see Stark and Wisner at once. "

"To send me away?"

"Yes. "

"Without forgiving me?"

"Forgiving? There's no question of that between you and me. "

"There is. Fitzhugh told me everything--all about the poor deadwoman. "

"Ah, he shouldn't have done that. "

"He should!" She stamped a little willful foot. "What else couldhe do?"

"Why, yes, " he agreed thoughtfully. "I suppose that's so. Afterall, a man can't bear the names that Carroll does and go wrong onthe big inner things. He has met his test, and stood it. For hecares very deeply for you. "

"Poor Fitz!" she sighed. 

"But here we're wasting time!" he cried in a panic. "Where can Ileave you?"

"Do you want to leave me?"

"Want to!" he groaned. "Can't you understand that I've got to getyou to the yacht!"

"Oh, beetle man, beetle man, don't you WANT me?" she crieddolorously. "Didn't you mean your note?"

"Mean it? I meant it as I've never meant anything in the world. But you--what do you mean? Do you mean that you'll--you'll let theyacht go without you--and--and--and stay here, and m-m-marry me?"

"If you should ask me, " she said, half-laughing, half-crying, "what else could I do? I'm alone and deserted. And there's onlyyou in the world. "

"Miss P-P-Polly, " he began, "I--I can't believe--"

"It's true!" she cried, and held out two yearning hands to him. "And if you stammer and stutter and--and--and act like theUnspeakable Perk NOW, I'll--I'll howl!"

If she had any such project, the chance was lost on the instant ofthe warning, as he caught her to him and held her close. 

"Oh!" she cried, trying to push him away. "Do you know, sir, thatthis is a public square?"

"Well, I didn't choose it, " he reminded her, laughing in pure joy, with a boyish note new to her ear. "Anyway, there are only us twounder the sun. " And he drew her close again, whispering in herear. 

"Oh--oh, is that the language of medical science?" she reproved. 

At this point, generic curiosity overcame the featheredeavesdropper in the tree above. 

"Qu'est-ce qu'il dit?"--"What's he say?"

The girl turned a flushed and adorable face upward. 

"I won't tell you. It's for me alone, " she declared joyously. "Butyou'll never stop saying it, will you, dear?"

"Never, as long as we both shall live. And that reminds me, " hesaid soberly. "We must arrange about being married. "

"Oh, that reminds you, does it?" she mocked. "Just incidentally, like that. "

Boom! Boom! Boom! The mission clock kept patiently at it until itssuggestion struck in. 

"Of course!" he cried. "Mr. Lake, the missionary, will marry us. And we'll have Stark and Wisner for witnesses. How long does ittake a bride to get ready? Would half an hour be enough?"

"It's rather a short engagement, " she remarked demurely. "But ifit's all the time we've got--"

"It is. But, darling, we'll have to ride for it afterward, and getacross to the mainland. I've no right to let you in for such arisk, " he cried remorsefully. 

"You couldn't help yourself, " she teased saucily. "I ran you downlike one of your own beetles. Besides, what does that permit forthe Dutch ship say?"

"That's for myself and a woman--the leper woman. Not for myselfand my wife. "

"Well, I'm a woman, aren't I? And it doesn't say that the womanMUSTN'T be your wife. " She blushed distractingly. 

"Caesar! Of course it doesn't! What luck! We'll be in Curacao to-morrow. I must see Wisner about getting us off. But, Polly, dearest one, you're sure? You haven't let yourself be carried awayby that foolishness of mine yesterday?"

"Sure? Oh, beetle man!" She put her hands on his shoulders andbent to his ear. 

The sulphur-colored winged Paul Pry stuck an impertinent head outfrom behind a palm leaf. 

"Qu'est-ce qu'elle dit? Qu'est-ce qu'elle dit?"

For the second and last time in his adult life the beetle manthrew a stone at a bird. 

Four hours later six powerful black oarsmen rowed a boatcontaining two passengers and practically no luggage out acrossthe huge lazy swells of the Caribbean toward a smudge of blacksmoke. 

"Look!" cried that one of the passengers who wore huge goggles. "There goes the flag!"

A square of yellow bunting slid slowly up the pierhead staff ofthe dock corporation, and spread in the light shore breeze. 

"That's the modern flaming sword, " he continued. "The color stirssomething inside me. Ugly, isn't it?"

"It is ugly, " she confessed thoughtfully. "Yet it's the flag wefight under, too, isn't it? And we'd fight for it if we had to, just as we fought for the other--our own. "

"I love your 'we, '" he laughed happily. 

She nestled closer to him. 

"Are you still hating the Caribbean?"

"I? I'm loving it the second-best thing in the world. "

"But I loved it first, " she reminded him jealously. "Dearest, " sheadded, with one of her swift swoops of thought, "what was thatfunny title the British Secretary of Legation had?"

"What? Oh, Captain the Honorable Carey Knowles?"

"Yes. Well, I shall have a much nicer, more picturesque title thanthat when we come back to Caracuna--dear, dirty, dangerous, queer, riotous, plague-stricken old Caracuna!"

"Then my liege ladylove intends to come back?" he asked. 

"Of course. Some time. And in Caracuna I shall insist on beingMrs. The Unspeakable Perk. "

THE END