angli hel deerh uran zohiol

1. Fox-in-the-morning
Coralioreclined,inthe mid-dayheat,likesome vacuousbeautylounginginaguardedharem.The town
layat the seais edge ona stripof alluvial coast.Itwasset like alittle pearl inanemeraldband.Behindit,
and seemingalmost totopple,imminent,above it,rose the sea-followingrange of the Cordilleras.In
frontthe seawasspread,a smilingjailer,butevenmore incorruptiblethanthe frowningmountains.The
wavesswishedalongthe smoothbeach;the parrotsscreamedinthe orange andceiba-trees;the palms
wavedtheirlimberfrondsfoolishlylikeanawkwardchorusat the prima donnaiscue to enter.
Suddenlythe townwasfull of excitement.A native boydasheddownagrass-grownstreet,shrieking:
"~Busca el Senor~Goodwin.~Havenidountelegrafoporel!~"
The word passedquickly.Telegramsdonotcome to anyone in Coralio.The cry for SenorGoodwinwas
takenup bya dozenofficiousvoices.The mainstreetrunningparallel tothe beachbecame populated
withthose whodesired toexpedite the deliveryof the dispatch.Knotsof womenwithcomplexions
varyingfrompalestolive todeepestbrowngatheredatstreetcornersandplaintivelycarolled:
"~Un telegrafoporSenor~Goodwin!"The ~comandante~,DonSenorel Coronel Encarnacion Rios,who
was loyal tothe Ins andsuspectedGoodwinisdevotiontothe Outs,hissed:"Aha!"andwrote inhis
secretmemorandumbookthe accusive factthatSenorGoodwinhadon
that momentousdate receivedatelegram.
In the midstof the hullabalooaman steppedtothe doorof a small woodenbuildingandlookedout.
Above the doorwas a signthat read"Keoghand Clancy"--anomenclature thatseemednottobe
indigenoustothattropical soil.The maninthe door was BillyKeogh,scoutof fortune andprogressand
latter-dayroverof the SpanishMain.
Tintypesandphotographswere the weaponswithwhichKeoghandClancywere atthattime assailing
the hopelessshores.Outsidethe shopwere settwolarge framesfilledwithspecimenstotheirartand
skill.
Keoghleanedinthe doorway,hisboldandhumorouscountenancewearingalookof interestatthe
unusual influx of life andsoundinthe street.Whenthe meaningof the disturbance becamecleartohim
he placeda hand beside hismouthandshouted:"Hey!Frank!"insucha robustiousvoice thatthe feeble
clamorof the nativeswasdrownedandsilenced.
Fiftyyardsaway,on the seawardside of the street,stoodthe abode of the consul for the UnitedStates.
Out fromthe door of thisbuildingtumbledGoodwinatthe call.He had beensmoking
withWillardGeddie,the consul,onthe backporch of the consulate,whichwasconcededtobe the
coolestspotinCoralio.
"Hurry up,"shoutedKeogh."There isariot intownon account of a telegramthatiscome for you.You
wantto be careful aboutthese things,myboy.Itwill notdoto trifle withthe feelingsof the publicthis
way.You will be gettingapinknote some daywithvioletscentonit;and thenthe country will be

2. steepedinthe throesof a revolution."
Goodwinhadstrolledupthe streetandmetthe boywiththe message.The ox-eyedwomengazedat
himwithshyadmiration,forhistype drew them.He was big,blond,andjauntilydressedinwhite linen,
withbuckskin~zapatos~.Hismannerwas courtly,withamerciful
eye.Whenthe telegramhadbeendelivered,andthe bearerof itdismissedwithagratuity,the relieved
populace returnedtothe contiguitiesof shade fromwhichcuriosityhaddrawnit--thewomentotheir
bakinginthe mud ovensunderthe orange-trees, ortothe interminablecombingof theirlong,straight
hair;the mento theircigarettesandgossipinthe cantinas.
Goodwinsaton Keoghisdoorstep,andreadhistelegram.Itwas fromBob Englehart,anAmerican,who
livedinSanMateo,the capital city of Anchuria,eightymilesinthe interior.Englehartwasa goldminer,
an ardentrevolutionistand"goodpeople."Thathe wasa man
of resource andimaginationwasprovenbythe telegramhe hadsent.Ithadhad beenhistaskto senda
confidentialmessagetohisfriendinCoralio.Thiscouldnothave beenaccomplishedineitherSpanishor
English,forthe eye politicinAnchuriawasanactive one.But Englehartwasa diplomatist.Thereexisted
but one code uponwhichhe mightmake requisitionwithpromise of safety--thegreatandpotentcode
of Slang.So,here isthe message thatslipped,unconstrued,throughthe fingersof curiousofficials,and
came to the eye of Goodwin:
"HisNibsskedaddledyesterdayperjack-rabbitline withall the coininthe kitty andthe bundle of muslin
he is spoonyabout.The boodle issix figuresshort.Ourcrowdingoodshape,but we needthe
spondulicks.Youcollarit.The mainguyand the dry goodsare headedforthe briny.Youto know what
to do.
BOB."
Thisscreed,remarkable asitwas,had no mysteryforGoodwin.He wasthe most successful of the small
advance-guardof speculative AmericansthathadinvadedAnchuria,andhe hadnotreachedthat
enviable pinnaclewithouthavingwell exercisedthe artsof foresightanddeduction.He hadtakenup
political intrigue asa matterof business.He wasacute enoughto wieldacertaininfluence amongthe
leadingschemers,andhe wasprosperousenoughtobe able to
purchase the respectof the petty-officeholders.There wasalwaysarevolutionaryparty;andtoit he had
alliedhimself;forthe adherentsof anew administrationreceivedthe rewardsof their
labors.There wasnowa Liberal partyseekingtooverturnPresidentMiraflores.If the wheel successfully
revolved,Goodwinstoodto winaconcessionto30,000 manzanasof the finestcoffee landsinthe
interior.Certainincidentsinthe recentcareerof PresidentMirafloreshadexcitedashrewdsuspicionin
Goodwinismindthatthe governmentwasnearadissolutionfromanothercause thanthatof a
revolution,andnowEnglehartistelegramhadcome as a corroborationof hiswisdom.
The telegram,whichhadremainedunintelligible tothe Anchurianlinguistswhohadappliedtoitinvain
theirknowledgeof Spanishandelemental English, conveyedastimulatingpiece of newstoGoodwinis

3. understanding.Itinformedhimthatthe presidentof the republichaddecampedfromthe capital city
withthe contentsof the treasury.Furthermore,thathe wasaccompaniedinhisflightbythatwinning
adventuressIsabelGuilbert,the operasinger,whose troupe of performershadbeenentertainedbythe
presidentatSanMateo duringthe past monthon a scale lessmodestthanthat withwhichroyal visitors
are oftencontent.The referencetothe "jackrabbit line"couldmeannothingelse thanthe mule-back
systemof transportthat prevailedbetweenCoralioandthe capital.The hintthat the "boodle"was"six
figuresshort"made the conditionof the national treasurylamentablyclear.Alsoitwasconvincinglytrue
that the
ingoingparty--itswaynowmade apacificone--wouldneedthe "spondulicks."Unlessitspledgesshould
be fulfilled,andthe spoilsheldforthe delectationof the victors,precariousindeed,wouldbe the
positionof the newgovernment.Therefore itwasexceedingnecessaryto"collarthe mainguy,"and
recapture the sinewsof warand government.
Goodwinhandedthe message toKeogh.
"Readthat, Billy,"he said."ItisfromBob Englehart.Canyoumanage the cipher?"
Keoghsat inthe otherhalf of the doorway,andcarefullyperusedthe telegram.
"It isnot a cipher,"he said,finally."Itiswhattheycall literature,andthatisa systemof language putin
the mouthsof people thattheyhave neverbeenintroducedtobywritersof
imagination. The magazinesinventedit,butIneverknew before thatPresidentNorvinGreenhad
stampeditwiththe seal of his approval.Itisnow no longerliterature,butlanguage.The dictionaries
tried,buttheycouldnot make itgo for anythingbutdialect.Sure,now thatthe WesternUnionindorses
it,it will notbe longtill arace of people willspringupthatspeaksit."
"You are runningtoomuchto philology,Billy,"saidGoodwin."Doyoumake outthe meaningof it?"
"Sure,"repliedthe philosopherof Fortune."All languagescome easytothe manwhomust know them.I
have evenfailedtomisunderstandanordertoevacuate inclassical Chinesewhenitwasbackedupby
the muzzle of a breech-loader.Thislittle literaryessayIholdinmyhandsmeansa game of Fox-in-the-
Morning.Ever playthat,Frank,whenyouwas a kid?"
"I thinkso,"saidGoodwin,laughing."Youjoinhandsall around,and--"
"You do not,"interruptedKeogh."Youhave gota fine sportinggame mixedupinyourheadwith“All
Aroundthe Rosebush.”The spiritof “Fox-in-the-Morning”isopposedtothe holdingof hands.Iwill tell
youhow itis played.Thispresidentmanandhiscompanioninplay,theystandupoverin SanMateo,
readyfor the run, andshout:"Fox-in-the-Morning!”Me and you,standinghere,we say:“Goose and
Gander!”Theysay: “How manymilesisitto Londontown?”We
say: “Onlya few,if yourlegsare longenough.How manycomesout?”
Theysay: “More than youare able tocatch.” Andthenthe game commences."

4. "I catch the idea,"saidGoodwin."Itwill notdotoletthe goose and ganderslipthroughyourfingers,
Billy;theirfeathersare toovaluable.Ourcrowdispreparedandable to stepintothe shoesof the
governmentatonce;butwiththe treasuryemptywe wouldstayinpoweraboutas longas a tenderfoot
wouldstickonan untamedbronco.We mustplaythe fox on everyfootof the coast to preventtheir
gettingoutof the country."
"By the mule-backschedule,"saidKeogh,"itisfive daysdownfromSanMateo.We have got plentyof
time to setour outposts.There isonlythree placesonthe coastwhere theycan hope tosail from—here
and SolitasandAlazan.Theyare the onlypointswe will have toguard.
It isas easyas a chessproblem--foxtoplay,andmate in three moves.Oh,goosey,goosey,gander,
whitherdoyouwander?By the blessingof the literarytelegraphthe boodle of thisbenightedfatherland
shall be preservedtothe honestpolitical partythatisseekingtooverthrow it."
The situationhadbeenjustlyoutlinedbyKeogh.The downtrail fromthe capital wasat all timesaweary
road to travel.A jiggety- joggetyjourneyitwas;ice-coldandhot,wetanddry. The trail
climbedappallingmountains,woundlike arottenstringaboutthe browsof breathlessprecipices,
plungedthroughchillingsnow-fedstreams,andwriggledlike asnake throughsunlessforeststeeming
withmenacinginsectandanimal life.Afterdescendingtothe foothillsitturnedtoa trident,the central
prongendingat Alazan.
Anotherbranchedoff to Coralio;the thirdpenetratedtoSolitas.
Betweenthe seaandthe foothillsstretchedthe fivemilesbreadthof alluvial coast.Here wasthe flora
ofthe tropicsinitsrankestand mostprodigal growth.Spaceshere andthere hadbeenwrestedfromthe
jungle andplantedwithbananasandcane and orange groves.
The rest wasa riotof wildvegetation,the home of monkeys,tapirs,jaguars,alligators,andprodigious
reptilesandinsects.Where noroadwascut a serpentcouldscarcelymake itswaythroughthe tangle of
vinesandcreepers.Acrossthe treacherousmangrove swampsfew
thingswithoutwingscouldsafelypass.Therefore the fugitivescouldhope toreachthe coast onlybyone
of the routesnamed.
"Keepthe matterquiet,Billy,"advisedGoodwin."We donotwant the Insto know that the presidentis
inflight.Isuppose Bobisinformationissomethingof ascoop inthe capital as yet.Otherwise he would
not have triedtomake his message aconfidential one;and,besides,everybodywouldhave heardthe
news.Iam goingaround nowto see Dr. Zavalla,andstart a man up the trail to cut the telegraphwire."
As Goodwinrose,Keoghthrewhishatuponthe grass bythe door and expelledatremendoussigh.
"What isthe trouble,Billy?"askedGoodwin,pausing."Thatisthe firsttime Iheard yousigh."
"It isthe last,"said Keogh."Withthatsorrowful puff of windIresignmyself toalife of praiseworthybut
harassinghonesty.Whatare tintypes,if youplease,tothe opportunitiesof the greatandhilariousclass
of gandersandgeese?NotthatI wouldbe a president,Frank--andthe boodlehe isgotistoo bigfor me

5. to handle --butinsome waysIfeel myconscience hurtingme foraddictingmyself tophotographinga
nationinsteadof runningawaywithit.
Frank,didyou eversee the “bundle of muslin”thatHisExcellencyhaswrappedupandcarriedoff?"
"Isabel Guilbert?"saidGoodwin,laughing."No,Ineverdid.FromwhatIhave heardof her,though,I
imagine thatshe wouldnotstickat anythingtocarry herpoint.Do not getromantic,Billy.SometimesI
begintofear thatthere isIrishbloodinyour ancestry."
"I neversawhereither,"wentonKeogh;"buttheysayshe is gotall the ladiesof mythology,sculpture,
and fictionreducedtochromos.
Theysay she can lookat a manonce,and he will turnmonkeyandclimbtreestopick coconutsfor her.
Thinkof that presidentmanwithLordknow how many hundredsof thousandsof dollarsinone hand,
and thismuslinsireninthe other,gallopingdownthe hillona sympatheticmule amidsongbirdsand
flowers!Andhere isBillyKeogh,becausehe isvirtuous,condemnedtothe unprofitable swindle of
slanderingthe facesof missinglinksontinforan honestliving!
It isan injustice of nature."
"Cheerup,"saidGoodwin. "Youare a prettypoorfox to be envyingagander.Maybe the enchanting
Guilbertwill take afancyto youand your tintypesafterwe impoverishherroyal escort."
"She coulddo worse,"reflectedKeogh;"butshe will not.Itisnota tintype gallery,buta galleryof the
godsthat she is fittedtoadorn.She is a verywickedlady,andthe presidentmanisinluck.
But I hearClancy swearinginthe backroom forhavingto do all the work."AndKeoghplungedforthe
rear of the "gallery,"whistlinggailyina spontaneouswaythatbeliedhisrecentsighoverthe
questionable goodluckof the flyingpresident.
Goodwinturnedfromthe mainstreetintoa much narrowerone thatintersecteditata rightangle.
These side streetswere coveredbyagrowthof thick, rank grass,whichwaskeptto a navigable
shortnessbythe machetesof the police.Stone sidewalks,littlemore thana ledge inwidth,ran
alongthe base of the meanand monotonousadobe houses.Atthe outskirtsof the village these streets
dwindledtonothing;andhere were setthe palm-thatchedhutsof the Caribsandthe poorernatives,
and the shabbycabinsof negroesfromJamaicaand the West Indiaislands.A few structuresraisedtheir
headsabove the red-tiledroofsof the one-storyhouses--thebelltowerof the ~Calaboza~,the Hotel de
losExtranjeros,the residence of the VesuviusFruit
Companyisagent,the store and residence of BernardBrannigan,aruinedcathedral inwhichColumbus
had once setfoot,and, mostimposingof all,the CasaMorena--the summer"White House"of the
Presidentof Anchuria.Onthe principal streetrunningalongthe beach--theBroadwayof Coralio--were
the largerstores,the government~bodega~andpost-office,the ~cuartel~,the rum-shopsandthe
marketplace.
On hisway Goodwinpassedthe house of BernardBrannigan.Itwas a modernwoodenbuilding,two

6. storiesinheight.The groundfloorwasoccupiedbyBranniganisstore,the upperone containedthe
livingapartments.A wide cool porchranaround the house half wayupits
outerwalls.A handsome,vivaciousgirl neatlydressedinflowingwhiteleanedoverthe railingand
smileddownuponGoodwin.She wasnodarkerthanmanyan Andalusianof highdescent;andshe
sparkledandglowedlike atropical moonlight.
"Good evening,MissPaula,"saidGoodwin,takingoff hishat,withhisreadysmile.There waslittle
difference inhismannerwhetherhe addressedwomenormen.EverybodyinCoraliolikedtoreceive the
salutationof the bigAmerican.
"Is there anynews,Mr. Goodwin? Please donotsayno.Is not itwarm? I feel justlike Marianainher
moatedgrange--orwasita range?--itishotenough."
"No,there isno newstotell,Ibelieve,"saidGoodwin,withamischievouslookinhiseye,"exceptthat
oldGeddie isgettinggrumpierandcrossereveryday.If somethingdoesnothappentorelievehismindI
will have toquitsmokingonhisback porch—andthere isnootherplace available thatiscool enough."
"He isnot grumpy,"saidPaulaBrannigan,impulsively,"whenhe--"
But she ceasedsuddenly,anddrewbackwitha deepeningcolor;forhermotherhad beena~mestizo~
lady,andthe SpanishbloodhadbroughttoPaula a certainshynessthatwasan adornmenttothe other
half of her demonstrativenature.