whirligigs-第4节
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out and talk a few moments on some trivial excuse；
leaving him expecting to see her at her home at seven。
She unpinned her hat and gave it to Mateo。 〃Keep
this； and wait here till I come；〃 she ordered。 Then she
draped the mantilla over her head as she usually did when
walking after sunset； and went straight to the Orilla del
Mar。
She was glad to see the bulky； white…clad figure of
Tio Pancho standing alone on the gallery。
〃Tio Pancho；〃 she said； with a charming smile； 〃may
I trouble you to ask Mr。 Merriam to come out for just a
few moments that I may speak with him？〃
Tio Pancho bowed as an elephant bows。
〃Buenas tardes； Se駉ra Conant；〃 he said； as a cavalier
talks。 And then he went on； less at his ease：
〃But does not the se駉ra know that Se駉r Merriam
sailed on the Pajaro for Panama at three o'clock of this
afternoon？〃
THE THEORY AND THE HOUND
NOT many days ago my old friend from the tropics；
J。 P。 Bridger； United States consul on the island of Ratona；
was in the city。 We had wassail and jubilee and saw
the Flatiron building； and missed seeing the Bronxless
menagerie by about a couple of nights。 And then； at the
ebb tide； we were walking up a street that parallels and
parodies Broadway。
A woman with a comely and mundane countenance
passed us； holding in leash a wheezing； vicious； waddling；
brute of a yellow pug。 The dog entangled himself with
Bridger's legs and mumbled his ankles in a snarling；
peevish； sulky bite。 Bridger； with a happy smile； kicked
the breath out of the brute； the woman showered us
with a quick rain of well…conceived adjectives that left
us in no doubt as to our place in her opinion； and we
passed on。 Ten yards farther an old woman with dis…
ordered white hair and her bankbook tucked well hidden
beneath her tattered shawl begged。 Bridger stopped
and disinterred for her a quarter from his holiday waist…
coat。
On the next corner a quarter of a ton of well…clothed
man with a rice…powdered； fat； white jowl； stood holding
the chain of a devil…born bulldog whose forelegs were
strangers by the length of a dachshund。 A little woman
in a last…season's hat confronted him and wept； which
was plainly all she could do； while he cursed her in low
sweet； practised tones。
Bridger smiled again strictly to himself and this
time he took out a little memorandum book and made
a note of it。 This he had no right to do without due
explanation； and I said so。
〃It's a new theory；〃 said Bridger； 〃that I picked up
down in Ratona。 I've been gathering support for it as I
knock about。 The world isn't ripe for it yet； but well
I'll tell you； and then you run your mind back along the
people you've known and see what you make of it。〃
And so I cornered Bridger in a place where they have
artificial palms and wine； and he told me the story which
is here in my words and on his responsibility。
One afternoon at three o'clock； on the island of Ratona；
a boy raced alongthe beach screaming； 〃Pajaro； ahoy！〃
Thus he made known the keenness of his hearing and
the justice of his discrimination in pitch。
He who first heard and made oral proclamation con…
cerning the toot of an approaching steamer's whistle； and
correctly named the steamer； was a small hero in Ratona
…until the' next steamer came。 Wherefore； there was
rivalry among the barefoot youth of Ratona； and many
fell victims to the softly blown conch shells of sloops which；
as they enter harbour； sound surprisingly like a distant
steamer's signal。 And some could name you the vessel
when its call； in your duller ears； sounded no louder than
the sigh of the wind through the branches of the cocoa…
nut palms。
But to…day he who proclaimed the Pajaro gained his
honours。 Ratona bent its ear to listen； and soon the
deep…tongued blast grew louder and nearer； and at length
Ratona saw above the line of palms on the low 〃joint〃
the two black funnels of the fruiter slowly creeping toward
the mouth of the harbour。
You must know that Ratona is an island twenty miles
off the south of a South American republic。 It is a port
of that republic； and it sleeps sweetly in a smiling sea；
toiling not nor spinning； fed by the abundant tropics
where all things 〃ripen； cease and fall toward the grave。〃
Eight hundred people dream life away in a green…
embowered village that follows the horseshoe curve of
its bijou harbour。 They are mostly Spanish and Indian
mestizos； with a shading of San Domingo Negroes； a
lightening of pure…blood Spanish officials and a slight
leavening of the froth of three or four pioneering white
races。 No steamers touch at Ratona save the fruit steamers
which take on their banana inspectors there on their way
to the coast。 They leave Sunday newspapers； ice； quinine；
bacon； watermelons and vaccine matter at the island and
that is about all the touch Ratona gets with the world。
The Pajaro paused at the mouth of the harbour； roll
ing heavily in the swell that sent the whitecaps racing
beyond the smooth water inside。 Already two dories
from the village one conveying fruit inspectors； the
other going for what it could get were halfway out to
the steamer。
The inspectors' dory was taken on board with them；
and the Pajaro steamed away for the mainland for its
load of fruit。
The other boat returned to Ratona bearing a contri…
bution from the Pajaro's store of ice； the usual roll of
newspapers and one passenger Taylor Plunkett； sheriff
of Chatham County； Kentucky。
Bridger； the United States consul at Ratona； was clean…
ing his rifle in the official shanty under a bread…fruit tree
twenty yards from the water of the harbour。 The consul
occupied a place somewhat near the tail of his political
party's procession。 The music of the band wagon
sounded very faintly to him in the distance。 The plums
of office went to others。 Bridger's share of the spoils
the consulship at Ratona was little more than a prune
a dried prune from the boarding…house department
of the public crib。 But 900 yearly was opulence in
Ratona。 Besides； Bridger had contracted a passion for
shooting alligators in the lagoons near his consulate； and
was not unhappy。
He looked up from a careful inspection of his rifle lock
a broad man filling his doorway。 A broad；
noiseless； slow…moving man； sunburned almost to the
Vandyke。 A man of forty…five； neatly clothed in
homespun； with scanty light hair； a close…clipped brown…
and…gray beard and pale…blue eyes expressing mildness
implicity。
〃You are Mr。 Bridger； the consul；〃 said the broad
man。 〃They directed me here。 Can you tell me what
those big bunches of things like gourds are in those trees
that look like feather dusters along the edge of the water？〃
〃Take that chair；〃 said the consul； reoiling his clean…
ing rag。 〃No； the other one that bamboo thing won't
hold you。 Why； they're cocoanuts green cocoanuts。
The shell of 'em is always a light green before they're
ripe。〃
〃Much obliged；〃 said the other man； sitting down
carefully。 〃I didn't quite like to tell the folks at home
they were olives unless I was sure about it。 My name
is Plunkett。 I'm sheriff of Chatham County； Kentucky。
I've got extradition papers in my pocket authorizing the
arrest of a man on this island。 They've been signed by
the President of this country； and they're in correct shape。
The man's name is Wade Williams。 He's in the cocoa…
nut raising business。 What he's wanted for is the murder
of his wife two years ago。 Where can I find him？〃
The consul squinted an eye and looked through his
rifle barrel。
〃There's nobody on the island who calls himself 'Wil…
liams；'〃 he remarked。
〃Didn't suppose there was；〃 said Plunkett mildly。
〃He'll do by any other name。〃
〃Besides myself；〃 said Bridger； 〃there are only
two Americans on Ratona Bob Reeves and Henry
Morgan。〃
〃The man I want sells cocoanuts；〃 suggested Plunkett。
〃You see that cocoanut walk extending up to the
point？〃 said the consul； waving his hand toward the open
door。 〃That belongs to Bob Reeves。 Henry Morgan
owns half the trees to loo'ard on the island。〃
〃One； month ago；〃 said the sheriff； 〃Wade Williams
wrote a confidential letter to a man in Chatham county；
telling him where he was and how he was getting along。
The letter was lost； and the person that found it gave it
away。 They sent me after him； and I've got the papers。
I reckon he's one of your cocoanut men for certain。〃
〃You've got his picture； of course；〃 said Bridger。
〃It might be Reeves or Morgan； but I'd hate to think it。
They're both as fine fellows as you'd meet in an all…day
auto ride。〃
〃No；〃 doubtfully answered Plunkett； 〃there wasn't
any picture of Williams to be had。 And I never saw him
myself。 I've been sheriff onl
