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The Ne'er-Do-Well, a novel by Rex Beach |
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Chapter 14. The Path That Led Nowhere |
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_ CHAPTER XIV. THE PATH THAT LED NOWHERE When "Senor Antonio" awoke the next morning he lay for an instant striving to recall what it was that had haunted his sleeping hours, what great event awaited him. Then, as it rushed through his mind, he leaped out of bed and dashed headlong into the bath- room. This was to-morrow! It had been ages in coming--he recalled how even his slumbers had dragged--but it was here at last, and he would see Chiquita. He sang as he stepped under his shower, and whistled blithely as he dressed himself. What a glorious country this Panama was, anyhow! How good it was to be young and to be in love! He never had been so happy. A man must be in love to sing before breakfast. But the afternoon was still a long way off, and he must be content to dream until the hour came. He was too early for the Cortlandts, and he breakfasted alone. When he strolled out upon the veranda for his smoke he found Allan waiting for him, as usual. The Jamaican had not missed a morning so far, and it was only by a show of downright firmness that Kirk had been able to get rid of him at any time during the day. The black boy seemed bent upon devoting his every waking hour to his hero, and now, finding himself regarded with friendly eyes, he expanded joyously. "Got you some games yesterday?" he inquired. "Yes. And I'm going again to-day." "Plenty games over yonder is, but it is very fatiguing to get them. To-day I go along for showing you the way." "Not a bit like it. I'm going alone." "Oh no, boss!" "Oh yes, boss! I accidentally shot the last man I hunted with-- killed him." Kirk stared tragically at his companion, but Allan was not to be so easily deterred. "I shall pahss behind you, boss." "I'd love to have you, of course--but I'm too careless." "Praise God, you must not go h'alone in that case, or something will befall you! I shall h'imitate the birds and call them out before you to fire at." "Fire AT! I don't fire at things, I hit 'em." "Yes, sar. In that case we shall procure plenty of games." "See here! I'm going alone, understand? I have an engagement with a Naiad." "'Ow much a month will you be getting for such h'engagements?" "Naiads don't pay in money, they give you smiles and kind words." "Better you continue then as train collector. There is great h'opportunity for stealing." "My job won't be ready for a few days, and meanwhile I have become a huntsman. I intend to go out every afternoon." "H'afternoons is no good for wild h'animals; they are sleeping. Walk they in the h'early morning, for the most part, very quietly." "That's true of some wood creatures, but the kind I hunt dance along the edges of pools in the afternoon. Say, did you ever feel like dancing?" "No, sar." "Come around on the back porch and I'll teach you a buck-step. I feel too good to sit still." But Allan refused this proffer firmly. Such frivolous conduct was beneath his dignity. "I 'ave h'important things to disclose," he said, mysteriously. "Indeed." "Yes, sar. Last night I dreamed." "You've got nothing on me; so did I." "I am walking on the h'edge of the h'ocean when I h'encountered a whale--a 'uge whale." "Swam ashore to rest, I suppose?" "No, sar; he was dead. It was very vivid." "Well, what has a vivid dead whale to do with me?" "This!" Allan brought forth a sheet of paper, which he unfolded carefully. "There is the number--the 'fish number,' sar." "Why, this is a Chinese lottery advertisement." "I got it for the very purpose. It would pay us to h'invest some money on the 'fish number.'" "Nonsense! I don't believe in dreams. You say yourself they are false." "Never such a dream as this, boss. It was very vivid." "I've got no money." Allan folded the paper disconsolately and thrust it into his pocket. "It is fartunate h'indeed," said he, "that you will be working soon, Master h'Auntony. And those P. R. R. was very fartunate also for getting you to h'accept a position, very fartunate h'indeed." "Do you think I will raise the standard of efficiency?" "Most of those railroad persons are vile people. They threw me h'off the train with such violence that my joints are very stiff and h'inflamed. I should h'enjoy being boss over them for a while." "Why don't you ask for a job?" "I have decided to do so, and I am asking you now for an h'engagement as brakesman." "I can't hire you. Go to the office." "Probably there are h'already brakesmen on your train." "I have no doubt." "In that case I shall ride with you as private person." "Ride back and forth every day?" "Those are my h'expectations, sar." "That costs money." "You will be collector," remarked the negro, calmly. "I should like to see those train people h'expel me, in that case." "Well! I can see trouble ahead for one of us," laughed Anthony. "They don't allow 'dead-heads.'" But Allan replied with unshaken confidence: "Then you should secure for me a pahss." Kirk found it extremely difficult to escape from his persistent shadow that afternoon, and he succeeded only after a display of armed resistance. It was the hottest part of the day when he set out, gun on arm, yet he never thought of the discomfort. After skirting the city, he swung into the fine macadam road that had brought him home the night before, and much sooner than he expected he arrived at the little path that led into the forest. He knew that he was trespassing again, and the knowledge added to his delight. As quickly as possible he lost himself in the grateful shade and followed the stream-bank with beating heart. His head was full of vague hopes and plans. He meant to learn the true story of Miss Chiquita's penance and find some means of winning her away from that other lover, of whom he had already thought more than once. He determined to make his love known without delay and establish himself as a regular suitor. As upon the previous day, he broke into the glade before he suspected its presence, to find the same golden light-beams flickering in the shadowed depths and to hear the little waterfall chuckling at his surprise. There was the tree from which she had called to him, yonder the bench where they had sat together. Of course, he was too early--he wanted to be, in order not to miss an instant of her company, so he seated himself and dreamed about her. The minutes dragged, the jungle drowsed. An hour passed. A thousand fresh, earthy odors breathed around him, and he began to see all sorts of flowers hidden away in unsuspected places. From the sunlit meadows outside came a sound of grazing herds, the deep woods faintly echoed the harsh calls of tropic birds, but at the pool itself a sleepy silence brooded. Once a chattering squirrel came bravely rustling through the branches to the very edge of the enchanted bower, but he only sat and stared a moment in seeming admiration, then retreated quietly. A yellow-beaked toucan, in a flash of red and black and gold, settled upon a mirrored limb; but it, too, stilled its raucous tongue and flitted away on noiseless pinions as if the Naiads were asleep. In the moist earth beside the bench Anthony saw the print of a dainty boot, no longer than his palm, and he promptly fell into a rhapsody. What tiny hands and feet she had, to be sure, and such a sweetly melancholy face! Yet she was anything but grave and gloomy. Why, the sunlight dancing on that waterfall was no more mischievous and merry than she. The slight suggestion of sadness she conveyed was but the shadow of the tropic mystery or the afterglow of the tragedy that had played so large a part in this country's history. The fact that she was half American perhaps accounted for her daring, yet, whatever the other strain, it could not be ignoble. Mrs. Cortlandt's figure of the silver threads in a rotting altar-cloth recurred to him with peculiar force. But why didn't she come? A sudden apprehension overtook him, which grew and grew as the afternoon wore away. It was a very miserable young man who wandered out through the fragrant path, as the first evening shadows settled, and bent his dejected steps toward the city. Evidently something had occurred to prevent her keeping her tryst, but he determined to return on the morrow, and then if she did not come to follow that other path right up to the house, where he would risk everything for a word with her. He wondered if she had stayed away purposely to test him, and the thought gave him a thrill. If so, she would soon learn that he was in earnest; she would find him waiting there every afternoon and--after all, why confine himself to the afternoon when she was just as likely to appear in the morning? He resolved to go hunting earlier hereafter, and give the whole day to it. Meanwhile, he would make cautious inquiries. It was considerably after dark when he reached the hotel, and his friends had dined; but he encountered Mr. Cortlandt later. If Edith's husband suspected anything of what had occurred a night or two ago, his countenance gave no sign of it. For some reason or other, Kirk had not been troubled in the slightest by the thought that Cortlandt might be told. He could not imagine Edith making him the confidant of her outraged feelings. Besides, would such a strangely impassive person resent any little indiscretion in which his wife might choose to indulge? Kirk did not know--the man was a puzzle to him. Cortlandt's voice was thoroughly non-committal as he inquired: "Where have you been keeping yourself?" "I've been hunting, to kill time." "Any luck?" "No, none at all. I started too late, I guess." "By-the-way," continued the other, "your friend Allan has been besieging Edith, imploring her to use her influence to get him a position. He has set his heart upon going to work with you." "He is becoming a positive nuisance. I can't get rid of him." "I never saw such hero-worship." "Oh, all niggers are hysterical." "Let me give you a bit of advice, Anthony. Remember there are no 'niggers' and 'whites' in this country--they are both about equal. The President of the republic is a black man, and a very good one, too." "That reminds me. I hear he is to be succeeded by the father of my friend, Alfarez." Cortlandt hesitated. "General Alfarez is a candidate. He is a very strong man, but--" "I am glad there is a 'but.'" "It isn't settled, by any means. The successful candidate will need the support of our government." "I suppose the Alfarez family is one of the first settlers-- Mayflower stock?" "Oh, worse than that. The name runs back to Balboa's time. General Alfarez is very rich, and very proud of his ancestry. That is one thing that makes him so strong with the people." "What are some of the other leading families?" Kirk artfully inquired. "There are a number. The Martinezes, the Moras, the Garavels--I couldn't name them all. They are very fine people, too." "Do you know the Chiquitas?" Cortlandt's face relaxed in an involuntary smile. "There is no such family. Who has been teaching you Spanish?" "Really, isn't there?" "'Chiquita' means 'very small,' 'little one,' 'little girl,' or something like that. It's not a family name, it's a term of endearment, usually." Kirk remembered now how the girl's eyes had danced when she asked him if he spoke her language. It was just like her to tease him, and yet what a pretty way to conceal her identity! "What made you take it for a proper name?" "A-a little girl told me." "Oh, naturally. All children are 'Chiquitas' or 'Chiquitos'-- everything, in fact, that is a pet." Kirk felt somewhat uncomfortable under the older man's gaze of quiet amusement. "But these other families," he went on in some confusion--"I mean the ones like those you just mentioned--they sometimes intermarry with Americans, don't they?" "No, not the better class. There have been a few instances, I believe, but for the most part they keep to themselves." "How would a fellow set about meeting the nice people." "He wouldn't. He would probably live here indefinitely and never see the inside of a Panamanian house." "But there must be some way," the young man exclaimed in desperation. "There must be dances, parties--" "Of course, but Americans are not invited. The men are easy to get acquainted with, charming, courteous, gentlemanly, but I dare say you will leave Panama without so much as meeting their wives or sisters. But why this consuming curiosity? Has some senorita struck your fancy?" In spite of his effort to appear unconcerned, Kirk felt that he looked abominably self-conscious. Without waiting for a reply, Cortlandt continued to give him information as if he enjoyed it. "I suppose one reason why so few Americans marry Panamanians is that our men like at least to get acquainted with their brides before marriage, and that is impossible in this country. A man never sees a girl alone, you know. When he calls to court her he wooes the whole family, who vote on him, so to speak. That doesn't appeal to us who originated the mother-in-law joke. There aren't many Northern chaps who would consent to select a wife by pointing her out like a bolt of calico on a top shelf." Kirk suddenly realized to the full how egregious his request to call must have appeared to the Spanish girl. What a fool he had been, to be sure! For a moment he lost himself in a contemplation of the difficulties so unexpectedly presented. He was brought to himself by the words: "--to-morrow you will go to work." "What's that?" he broke forth in a panic. "I can't go to work to- morrow; I'm going hunting." Cortlandt eyed him curiously. "I didn't say to-morrow. I said Runnells 'phoned that he would be ready for you day after to-morrow. What is the matter with you? Have you lost your head over shooting, or don't you care to work?" "Oh, neither," he said, hastily. "I merely misunderstood you. Of course, the sooner the better." "Yes, as you say, the sooner the better," said Cortlandt, with a shade of meaning. "Well, good-night, and good-luck to you in your shooting!" It was with much less self-assurance that Kirk set out again on the next morning, for this was his last day of grace, and he realized that unless he accomplished something definite it might be a considerable time before he could continue his quest. In view of what the girl had said regarding her engagement, delays seemed particularly dangerous. He haunted the vicinity of the meeting-place all the morning, but no one came, and a heavy shower at midday drove him into the palm- thatched hut for shelter. When it had passed he put an end to his indecision and boldly took the other path. At least he would find out where she lived and who she was. But once again he was disappointed. The trail led out through the grove to the rain- drenched pasture, where it disappeared, and, instead of one house, he saw three, half hidden in foliage and all facing in the opposite direction. They stood upon the crest of a hill fronting the road, and he realized that the pool might be the bathing-place for the inmates of one or all of them. Up past the grazing stock he went and around to the front of the nearest residence, which proved to be a low, rambling, bungalow affair with many outhouses smothered in a profusion of vines and fruit-trees. Evidently it was unoccupied, for heavy wooden shutters barricaded the windows, and no one answered his knock, although some pigeons perched upon the tile roof cooed at him in a friendly manner. He struck across lots to the next house, but met with no better success, and he approached the third dwelling with a certain hesitation, for it was his last chance. It was more pretentious than the rest, and stood proudly upon the highest point of the ridge, up which ran a private road guarded by twin rows of stately royal palms, whose perfectly rounded trunks seemed to have been turned upon some giant lathe. The house itself was large, square, and double-galleried. It was shaded by lofty hard- wood trees and overlooked a sort of formal garden, now badly in need of care. The road was of shell, and where it entered the grounds passed through a huge iron gate suspended upon concrete pillars. The whole place had an air of wealth and exclusiveness. Here, too, the windows stared at him blindly, and he saw no evidence of occupation; yet he advanced and pounded vigorously on the door. Failing to rouse any one, he paused to take a general view of the surroundings. Scattered upon every side were other winter homes, some bleaching nakedly in the open, others peeping out from luxuriant groves, some mean and poor, others really beautiful and impressive. He knew that he was in the heart of Panama's exclusive winter colony, where her wealthy residents came to avoid the heat. Unwilling to acknowledge himself beaten, he plodded from one place to another, calling at all the nearest houses, finding most of them locked, and begging a glass of water where he chanced to be more fortunate. Nowhere did he see the girl or the Barbadian woman, nowhere did he receive an intelligible answer to his questions. The caretakers looked upon him with suspicion, and made it known that he was unwelcome, while their women retreated at sight of him. Even the children were unfriendly. Once, indeed, he heard the name that had been ringing so steadily in his ears, and it gave him a wild thrill until he discovered that it was only a negress calling to her child. Afterward it seemed that he heard it everywhere. On his disconsolate journey home it was spoken twenty times, being applied indifferently to dogs, cats, parrots, and naked youngsters, each mention causing him to start and listen. Whether the girl had been playing with him, or whether she had been prevented from keeping her word, was of little moment now. He loved her and he intended to have her! He shut his teeth grimly and made a vow to find her if he had to invade every home in Las Savannas, or pull apart the walls of Panama. _ |
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