Limekiller!

Tia Sani was open. Breakfast: two fried eggs, buttered toast of thick-sliced home-baked bread, beans (mashed), tea with tinned milk, orange juice. Cost: SI.00, National Currency — say, 60c, 65c, U.S. or Canadian. On the wall, benignly approving, the Queen, in her gown, her tiara, and her Smile of State; also, the National Premier, in open shirt, eyeglasses, and a much broader smile.

Jack found himself still waiting for the bus. Despite the Night Before. See (he told himself), so it zfn’tjust Sex. Also waiting, besides the retired chicle-tappers and superannuated mahogany- cutters, all of them authorized bench-sitters, was a younger and brisker man.

“You are waiting for the bus, I take it,” he now said.

“Oh, yes. Yes, I am.”

And so was he. “I am expecting a repair part for my tractor. Because, beside my shop, I have a farm. You see my shop?” He companionablv took Limekiller by the arm, pointed to a pink- washed building with the indispensable red-painted corrugated iron roof (indispensable because the rains rolled off them and into immense wooden cisterns) and overhanging gallery. “Well, I find that I cannot wait any longer, Captain Sneed is watching the shop for me, so I would like to ahsk you one favor. If you are here. If the bus comes. Would you be so kind as to give me a hail?”

Limekiller said, “Of course. Be glad to,” suddenly realized that he had, after all, other hopes for If The Bus Come; hastily added, “And if not, I will send someone to hail you.”

The dark (but not local-dark) keen face was split by a warm smile. “Yes, do. - Tony Mikeloglu,” he added, givingjack’s hand a hearty, hasty shake; strode away. (Tony Mikeloglu could trust Captain Sneed not to pop anything under his shirt, not to raid the till, not to get too suddenly and soddenly drunk and smash the glass goods. But, suppose some junior customer were to appear during the owner’s absence and, the order being added up and its price announced, pronounce the well-known words, Ma say, “write eet doewn” — could he trust Captain Sneed to demand cash and not “write it down?” — no, he could not.)

Long Limekiller waited, soft talk floating on around him, of oldtime “rounds” of sapodilla trees and tapping them for chicle, talk of “hunting” — that is, of climbing the tallest hills and scouting out for the telltale reddish sheen which mean mahogany — talk of the bush camps and the high-jinks when the seasons were over. But for them, now, all seasons were over, and it was only that: talk. Great-uncle Leicester had talked a lot, too; only his had been other trees, elsewhere.

Still, no bus.

Presently he became aware of feeling somewhat ill at ease, he could not say why. He pulled his long fair beard, and scowled.

One of the aged veterans said, softly, “Sir, de mon hailing you.”

With an effort, Limekiller focused his eves. There. There in front of the pink store building. Someone in the street, calling, beckoning.

“De Tork hailing you, sir. Best go see what he want.”

Tony Mikeloglu wanted to tell him something? Limekiller, with long strides strolled down to see. “I did not wish to allow you to remain standing in the sun, sir. I am afraid I did not ask your name. Mr. Limekiller? — Interesting name. Ah. Yes. My brother-in-law’s brother has just telephoned me from King Town, Mr. Limekiller. I am afraid that the bus is not coming today. Breakdown?”

Under his breath, Limekiller muttered something coarse and disappointed.

“Pit-ty about the railroad,” a deep voice said, from inside the store. “Klondike to Cape Horn. Excellent idea. Vi-sion. But they never built it. Pit-ty.”

Limekiller shifted from one foot to another. Half, he would go back to the hotel. Half, he would go somewhere else. (They, she, no one was coming. What did it matter?) Anywhere. Where? But the problem was swiftly solved. Once again, and again without offense, the merchant took him by the arm. “Do not stand outside in the sun, sir. Do come zhside the shop. In the shade. And have something cold to drink.” And by this time Jack wras already there. “Do you know Captain Sneed?”

Small, khaki-clad, scarlet-faced. Sitting at the counter, which was serving as an unofficial bar. “I suppose you must have often wondered,” said Captain Sneed, in a quarterdeck voice, “whv the Spaniard didn’t settle British Hidalgo when he’d settled everywhere else round about?”

Well