Limekiller!

Goforth looked upward, as though an information might be lodged on the ridge-pole of his house. From the outside, nothing looked trashier than the thatched roof of a “trash house,” at once shaggy and so soon shabby: from the inside, nothing looked more beautiful and more symmetrical: compensation, this was called. John L. Limekiller could not see it, but evidently Rod. Goforth could, and — having found the information — took his hand away from his chin and slowly opened his mouth. Also in the yard were the purple-drooping jacaranda trees. The book said its flowers were blue. blue!. but any fool could see they were purple.

Almost as though determined to exhibit a prime feature of the classical old White Creole accent, R. Goforth said, “Vhat you vants to do is to elewate your wittles.” He gave a great nod.

“‘Elevate my —

“Get you a tin of carn-beef. Get you a tin of peas-with-salad- cream.”

He almost smacked his lips as he named these imported delicacies, and sounded rather like a physician of the previous century recommending a couple of dozen oysters, some canvas- back duck, and a pint of champagne.

His guest sighed. “What I’d like to get me is some back-bacon and a couple of eggs. But when I mentioned write-it-down to Domingo Aung,” the entire Aung extended family, to which Aurelio w'as Titular Uncle, maintained the tradition of Spanish- language given-names perhaps dating back to days when kings named Alfonso reigned over Manila as well as Malaga; “to Domingo Aung, he suddenly got very hard of hearing.”

R. Goforth signified by a sort of rictus that wrell he knew the occasional auricular difficulty of Aurelio Aung and Clan. Then, “I tells you vhat,” said he. “You vants to picquet the beach at night, and get you a few' tortle eggs; bock-bacon, forget about it until you gets rich again.”

And he told Jack this, and he toldjack that, and he toldjack a few other things; also he told Jack this. “Ond in case they should apprehend you, vhich I werv much doubts, as po-licemen doesn’t vant to poke around such places at night unless eat ease really big-time, but suppose they should:, here is vhat you remember: stout denial. You does understand that? Neh-wer confess! E-wen if ah dead body lie before you, stout. denial! Maybe it fool you, get up and valk avay, maybe somebody help it valk. The Lah of Ewwidence is ah chancy thing. This is a British country — this is not a Frinch country — not a Spaniard country — the police gots to produce ewwidence you are guilty. So —”

‘“Stout. denial.”'

“Stout. denial.“

Likely, (Limekiller was thinking, waiting on the log just above highwater mark) likely if his lovely lady, Felix, was hereabouts he would have found something better to do of nights. Also, Felix (nee Felicia) would have spurred him on to borrow a shotgun and go hunting gibnut, or maybe even armadillo. wild-hog. antelope (very w'ell: it was really a small dear, it ate well, didn’t it). But Felix and her cousin May w'ere in King Town, getting their residence permits renewed, shopping for piece goods and native arts and crafts, getting books out of the National Library: officially, Unoffidally: also going to parties and to events very generally called funs. Maybe he, Jack, did not altogether like this last notion, for who knows whom Felix might meet? But he did not own her, nor her gleaming copper-red hair, nor her lovely long body; and he could not control her goings or her doings. So.

Here he was, and what was that, barely he could see it but he could see it, its back breaking the surface of the water (not the surf, no, there was no surf to speak of within the reef-protected waters of the Great Bay of Hidalgo: the water).? Sure enough, as it came nearer and nearer, only a turtle would be homing in to land amid the shallows. The creature seemed to give no heed to possible danger, it hesitated not for a single moment, on it came, in it came, up it came, it dragged its large body up upon the beach and, propelling its bulk across the sands, crawled and crawled and. then it stopped. Began to dig. Kept on digging.