light.
Positive that he had not closed his eyes for a single moment, the inspector suddenly opened them very wide, sat up so suddenly that he banged his head against the upper berth. There was a hand reaching through the gap in the curtains, a brown clutching hand that moved toward his shoulder.
Oscar Piper seized it—and immediately found that he was holding the swarthy little porter in a grip of death. The little man blinked, squirmed and then produced a yellow envelope.
“Una mas telegrama, señor” he said, shaking his head wearily.
It was a telegram from New York City for the inspector, received at Carneros, province of Coahuila. It was a short and surprising telegram, which the recipient read three times with growing asperity.
OBVIOUSLY ON WRONG TRACK PLEASE DO NOTHING UNTIL YOU HEAR FROM ME
HILDEGARDE
And the train rolled interminably on, up the tilted narrowing plateau that lies between the two great mountain backbones of Mexico. It rolled on through the night, through the bright morning and the blazing white heat of the day.
Steadily the sun-bleached stations went by, the bare, crowded, identical railroad stations of Mexico.
At Jesus Maria, Rollo Lighten and Al Hansen got down from the train to purchase copies of the Mexico City newspapers, shook hands happily over the news therein displayed, and then spent most of the morning in deep conclave, making many figures on bits of paper.
As the train went through Villa Reyes Miss Dulcie Prothero, still in the yellow dress, came into the dining car. She pounced upon the newspapers which Lighton and Hansen had left on the table there. Unlike those two gentlemen, she was disturbed and disappointed at what she found in the Mexico City press, for she sipped unhappily at her cup of black coffee, refusing to chat with Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Ippwing across the aisle, although that cheery and birdlike old couple assured her that they had a daughter just her age back home in Peoria.
At Pena Prieta, fresh as a daisy, Señor Julio Carlos Mendez S. joined her without an invitation. Over the orange juice he told her the story of his life. Over his eggs rancheros they discovered that their favorite movie actor was Donald Duck. By the end of the last cup of coffee Dulcie Prothero laughed out loud.
At Rio Laja Mrs. Adele Mabie, wearing smoked goggles to protect her eyes from the bright blinding sun, was on the point of buying a magnificent green parrot when her husband cried warnings about psittacosis. She compromised by bringing back aboard the train a small round wicker basket containing, she announced with great éclat, a genuine baby spotted lizard. Inspector Oscar Piper, lurking watchfully in the background, refused to admire the lizard, saying that reptiles human and otherwise made him sick.
At Begona the Pullman conductor, mopping his pumpkin face, refused to hazard a suggestion as to what baby lizards should be fed.
At Escobedo Alderman Francis Mabie became a kibitzer at the Lighton-Hansen checker game, intimating that he was no longer able to remain in the drawing room and listen to Julio Mendez teach Adele the interminable words of the song “Adelita,” to the accompaniment of his guitar.
At Queretaro Adele Mabie rushed out onto the platform to buy a garnet necklace, a riding whip, and a large gourd tray three feet across, painted in violent colors.
At Cambalache Julio Mendez bought ice-cream cones for Mr. and Mrs. Ippwing. There was no telegram from New York for the inspector.
At St. José de Atlan there was no telegram for the inspector.
At Teocalco there were three sets of musicians, a juggler, a fortune teller, and eight beggars on the platform, but there was no telegram for the inspector.
At Coyotepec Oscar Piper glanced at a crinkled newspaper in the dining car and saw there amid gray lines of unintelligible Spanish the strange face of a young man pictured on a hospital cot. Unacquainted with the gentle Mexican interest in the appearance of corpses in the
Positive that he had not closed his eyes for a single moment, the inspector suddenly opened them very wide, sat up so suddenly that he banged his head against the upper berth. There was a hand reaching through the gap in the curtains, a brown clutching hand that moved toward his shoulder.
Oscar Piper seized it—and immediately found that he was holding the swarthy little porter in a grip of death. The little man blinked, squirmed and then produced a yellow envelope.
“Una mas telegrama, señor” he said, shaking his head wearily.
It was a telegram from New York City for the inspector, received at Carneros, province of Coahuila. It was a short and surprising telegram, which the recipient read three times with growing asperity.
OBVIOUSLY ON WRONG TRACK PLEASE DO NOTHING UNTIL YOU HEAR FROM ME
HILDEGARDE
And the train rolled interminably on, up the tilted narrowing plateau that lies between the two great mountain backbones of Mexico. It rolled on through the night, through the bright morning and the blazing white heat of the day.
Steadily the sun-bleached stations went by, the bare, crowded, identical railroad stations of Mexico.
At Jesus Maria, Rollo Lighten and Al Hansen got down from the train to purchase copies of the Mexico City newspapers, shook hands happily over the news therein displayed, and then spent most of the morning in deep conclave, making many figures on bits of paper.
As the train went through Villa Reyes Miss Dulcie Prothero, still in the yellow dress, came into the dining car. She pounced upon the newspapers which Lighton and Hansen had left on the table there. Unlike those two gentlemen, she was disturbed and disappointed at what she found in the Mexico City press, for she sipped unhappily at her cup of black coffee, refusing to chat with Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Ippwing across the aisle, although that cheery and birdlike old couple assured her that they had a daughter just her age back home in Peoria.
At Pena Prieta, fresh as a daisy, Señor Julio Carlos Mendez S. joined her without an invitation. Over the orange juice he told her the story of his life. Over his eggs rancheros they discovered that their favorite movie actor was Donald Duck. By the end of the last cup of coffee Dulcie Prothero laughed out loud.
At Rio Laja Mrs. Adele Mabie, wearing smoked goggles to protect her eyes from the bright blinding sun, was on the point of buying a magnificent green parrot when her husband cried warnings about psittacosis. She compromised by bringing back aboard the train a small round wicker basket containing, she announced with great éclat, a genuine baby spotted lizard. Inspector Oscar Piper, lurking watchfully in the background, refused to admire the lizard, saying that reptiles human and otherwise made him sick.
At Begona the Pullman conductor, mopping his pumpkin face, refused to hazard a suggestion as to what baby lizards should be fed.
At Escobedo Alderman Francis Mabie became a kibitzer at the Lighton-Hansen checker game, intimating that he was no longer able to remain in the drawing room and listen to Julio Mendez teach Adele the interminable words of the song “Adelita,” to the accompaniment of his guitar.
At Queretaro Adele Mabie rushed out onto the platform to buy a garnet necklace, a riding whip, and a large gourd tray three feet across, painted in violent colors.
At Cambalache Julio Mendez bought ice-cream cones for Mr. and Mrs. Ippwing. There was no telegram from New York for the inspector.
At St. José de Atlan there was no telegram for the inspector.
At Teocalco there were three sets of musicians, a juggler, a fortune teller, and eight beggars on the platform, but there was no telegram for the inspector.
At Coyotepec Oscar Piper glanced at a crinkled newspaper in the dining car and saw there amid gray lines of unintelligible Spanish the strange face of a young man pictured on a hospital cot. Unacquainted with the gentle Mexican interest in the appearance of corpses in the
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