THE NOVEL angel island

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Title:AngelIsland

Author:InezHaynesGillmore

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AngelIsland

ByInezHaynesGillmore

Authorof“PhoebeandErnest,”“Phoebe,Ernest,andCupid,”etc.

To

M.W.P.

AngelIsland


I
Itwasthemorningaftertheshipwreck.Thefivemenstilllaywhere
theyhadslept.Alongtimehadpassedsinceanybodyhadspoken.Along
timehadpassedsinceanybodyhadmoved.Indeed,it,lookedalmostasif
theywouldneverspeakormoveagain.Sobruisedandbloodlessofskin
werethey,sobleakandsharpoffeature,sostarkandhollowofeye,so
rigidandmovelessoflimbthattheymighthavebeencorpses.Mentally,
too,theywerealmostmoribund.Theystaredvacantly,straightoutto
sea.Theystaredwiththeunwinkingfixednessofthosewhosegazeis

caughtinhypnotictrance.

ItwasFrankMerrillwhobrokethesilencefinally.Merrillstilllooked
likeamanofmarbleandhisvoicestillkeptitsunnaturaltone,level,
monotonous,metallic.“IfIcouldonlyforgetthescreamthatNortonkid
gavewhenhesawthebigwavecoming.Itringsinmyhead.Andtheway
hismotherpressedhisheaddownonherbreast-oh,myGod!”

Hislistenersknewthathewasgoingtosaythis.Theyknewthevery
wordsinwhichhewouldputit.Allthroughthenight-watcheshehad
saidthesamethingatintervals.Theeffectalwayswasofared-hot


wiredrawndownthefrayedendsoftheirnerves.Butagainonebyone
theythemselvesfellintoline.

“ItwasthatoldwomanIremember,”saidHoneySmith.Therewere
bruises,mottledblueandblack,alloverHoney’sbody.Therewasa
falsettowhistlingtoHoney’svoice.“ThatIrishgranny!Shedidn’tsay
aword.Hermouthjustopeneduntilherjawfell.Thenthewavestruck!”
Hepaused.Hetriedtocontrolthefalsettowhistling.Butitgotaway
fromhim.“God,Ibetshewasdeadbeforeittouchedher!”

“Thatwastheawfulthingaboutit,”PeteMurphygroaned.Itwasas
inevitablenowasanantiphonalchorus.Pete’slittlescarred,
scratched,bleedingbodyrockedbackandforth.”Thewomenandchildren!
Butitallcamesoquick.Iwasclosebeside‘theNewlyweds.’Sheput
herarmsaroundhisneckandsaid,‘Yourface’llbethelastI’lllook
oninthislife,dearest!‘Andshestayedtherelookingintohiseyes.
Itwasthelastfaceshesawallright.”Petestoppedandhisbrow

blackened.”Whileshewassickinherstateroom,he’dbeenlookinginto
agoodmanyfacesbesideshers,the-“

“Idon’tseemtorememberanythingdefiniteaboutit,”BillyFairfax


said.ItwasstrangetohearthatbeatingpulseofhorrorinBilly’s
mildtonesandtoseethatlookofterrorfrozenonhismildface.“I
hadthesamefeelingthatI’vehadinnightmareslotsoftimes-thatit
washorrible-and-Ididn’tthinkIcouldstanditanothermomentbut-ofcourseitwouldsoonend-likeallnightmaresandI’dwake
up.”

Withoutreason,theyfellagainintosilence.

Theyhadpassedthroughtwodistinctpsychologicalchangessincethesea
spewedthemup.Whenconsciousnessreturned,theygatheredintoalittle
terror-stricken,gibberinggroup.Atfirsttheybabbled.Atfirst
inarticulate,confused,theydrippedstringsofmerewords;expletives,
exclamations,detachedphrases,brokenclauses,sentencesthatstarted
withsubjectsandtrailed,unpredicated,tostupidsilence;sentences
beginningsubjectlessandhobblingtofutileconclusion.Itwasas
thoughmentallytheyslavered.Buteveryphrase,howeverconfusedand
inept,voicedtheirpanic,voicedthelongstrainoftheirfearful
buffetingandtheirterrificfinalstruggle.Andeveryclause,whether
sentimental,sacrilegious,orprofane,breathedtheirwonder,their
pathetic,poignant,horrifiedwonder,thatsuchthingscouldbe.All


thiswasintensifiedbytheanarchyofseaandairandsky,bythe
incessantexplosionofthewaves,bythewindwhichseemedtosweepfrom

endtoendofaliquefyinguniverse,byadownpourwhichthreatenedto
beattheirsoddenbodiestopulp,byalltheconnotationofterrorthat
layinthedarknessandintheirunguardedconditiononabarbarous,
semi-tropicalcoast.

Thencamethelong,log-likestuporoftheirexhaustion.

Withtheday,vocabulary,grammar,logicreturned.Theystilliterated
andreiteratedtheirexperiences,butwithacoherencewhichgradually
grewtoconsistence.Inbetween,however,camesudden,sinisterattacks
ofdumbness.

“Irememberwondering,”BillyFairfaxbroketheirlastsilencesuddenly,
“whatwouldbecomeoftheship’scat.”

Thiswastypicaloftheastonishingfatuitywhichmarkedtheircomments.
BillyFairfaxhadmadetheremarkabouttheship’scatadozentimes.
Andadozentimes,ithadelicitedfromtheothersaclamorofsimilar
chatter,ofinsignificanthaphazarddetailwhichbegananywhereand


endednowhere.

Butthistimeitbroughtnocomment.Perhapsitservedtostirfaintly
anatrophiedanalyticsense.Nooneofthemhadyetlosttheshudderand
thethrillwhichlayinhisownnarrative.Buttheexperiencesofthe
othershadbeguntoboreandirritate.

Therecameafterthisoneremarkanotherhalf-hourofstupidand
readjustingsilence.

Thestorm,whichhadseemedtoworrythewholeuniverseinitsgrip,had
diedfinallybutithaddiedhard.Onaquietedearth,theseaalone
showedsignsofrevolution.Thewaves,monstrous,towering,swollen,
werestillmarchingontothebeachwithamachine-likeregularitythat
wasswiftandponderousatthesametime.Oneonone,anotheron
another,theycame,notaninstantbetween.Whentheycrested,
involuntarilythefivemenbracedthemselvesasforashock.Whenthey
crashed,involuntarilythefivemenstartedasifabombhadstruck.
Beyondthewave-line,underacoveroffoam,thejadedsealayfeebly
palpitantlikeanoldmanasleep.Notfaroff,suckedclosetoaragged
reef,stretchedtheblackbulkthathadoncebeentheBrianBoru.


Continuallyitleapedoutofthewater,threwitselflikealive
creature,breast-forwardontherock,clawedfuriouslyatit,retreated
alittlemoreshattered,settledbackinthetrough,broodedaninstant,
thenwiththecourageofthetorturedandthestrengthofthedying,
rearedandsprangattherockagain.

Upanddownthebeachstretchedanunbrokenlineofwreckage.Hereand
there,things,humanlyshaped,layproneorsupineortwistedintocrazy
attitudes.Somehadbeenflungfaruptheslopebeyondthewater-line.
Others,rollingbackinthetorrentofthetide,engagedinaceaseless,
grotesquefrolicwiththefoamywaters.Outofamassofwoodcaught
betweenrocksandrisingshoulder-highaboveit,awoman’shead,livid,
rigid,staredwithafixedgazeoutofherdeadeyesstraightattheir
group.Herblondehairhadalreadydried;ithunginstiff,salt-clogged
massesthatbeatwildlyaboutherface.Beyondsomethingrockingbetween
twowedgedsea-chests,butconcealedbythem,constantlykickedasodden

footintotheair.Straightahead,thenakedbodyofachildflashedto
thecrestofeachwave.

Allthisdestructionranfromnorthtosouthbetweentworeefsofblack
rock.Itedgedabroadbow-shapedexpanseofsand,snowy,powdery,


hummocky,nettedwithweftsofblackseaweedthathaddriedtoa
rattlingstiffness.Totheeast,thissilverycrescentmergedfinally
withafurrybandofvegetationwhichscreenedthewholeforegroundof
theisland.

Thedaywasperfectandthescenebeautiful.Theyhadwatchedthesun
comeupoverthetreesattheirback.Anditwasasiftheyhadseena
sunriseforthefirsttimeintheirlife.Tothem,itwasneither
beautifulnorfamiliar;itwassinisterandstrange.Achill,thatwas
notofthedawnbutofdeathitself,layovereverything.Themorning
windwasthebreathofthetomb,thesmellsthatcametothemfromthe
islandborethetaintofmortality,theverysunshineseemedicy.They
suffered-thefivesurvivorsofthenight’stragedy-withascarifying
senseofdisillusionwithNature.Itwasasthoughabeautiful,tender,
andfondlylovedmotherhadturnedmurderouslyonherchildren,had
woundedthemnearlytodeath,hadthentriedtowoothemtoherbreast
again.Thelovelinessofher,themindless,heartless,soulless
loveliness,asofamaniactamed,mockedattheiragonies,mockedwith
hergentleindifference,mockedwithherself-satisfiedplacidity,
mockedwithherserenityandherpeace.Forthemshewasdead-dead
likethosewhomwenolongertrust.

Thesunwasracingupaskysmoothandclearasgrayglass.Itdropped
onthetorngreenseaashimmerthatwasalmostdazzling;buterewas
somethingincongruousaboutthat-asthoughNaturehadcoveredher
victimwithaspangledscarf.Itbroughtoutmillionsofsparklesinthe
whitesand;andthereseemedsomethingcalculatingaboutthat-as
thoughshewerebribingthemwithjewelstoforget.

“Say,let’scutoutthisbusinessofgoing,overandoverit,”said
RalphAddingtonwithasuddenburstofirritability.“IguessIcould
giveuptheship’scatinexchangeforagirlortwo.”Addington’sface
waslivid;amuscularcontractionkeptpullinghislipsawayfromhis
whiteteeth;hehadthelookofamanwhogrinssatanicallyatregular
intervals.

Byatitanicmentaleffort,theothersconnectedthisexplosionwith
BillyFairfax’slastremark.Itwasthefirstexpressionofanemotion
sosmallasill-humor.Itwas,moreover,thefirstexcursionoutofthe
beatenpathoftheiregotisms.Itclearedtheatmospherealittleof
thatmurkycloudofhorrorwhichblurredthesunlight.Threeofthe
otherfourmen-HoneySmith,FrankMerrill,PeteMurphy-actually


turnedandlookedatRalphAddington.Perhapsthatmovementservedto
breakthehideous,hypnoticspellofthesea.

“Right-o!”HoneySmithagreedweakly.Itwasaudibleinhisvoice,the
efforttotalksanelyofsanethings,andintheslangofeveryday.
“Addington’son.Let’scanit!Hereweareandherewe’relikelytostay
forafewdays.Inthemeantimewe’vegottolive.Howarewegoingto

pullitoff?”

Everybodyconsideredhisbriefharangue;foraninstant,itlookedas
thoughthisconsiderationwastakingthemallbackintoaimless
meditation.Then,“That’sright,”BillyFairfaxtookitupheroically.
“Say,Merrill,”headdedinalmostaconversationaltone,“whatareour
chances?Imeanhowsoondowegetoff?”

Thiswasthefirstquestionanybodyhadasked.Itaddedits
infinitesimalweighttothewaveofnormalitywhichwassettlingover
themall.Everybodyvisiblyconcentrated,listeningfortheanswer.

Itcameafteraninstant,althoughFrankMerrillpalpablypulledhimself
togethertoattacktheproblem.“Iwastalkingthatmatteroverwith


Minerjustyesterday,”hesaid.“MinersaidGod,Iwonderwhereheis
now-andadependentblindmotherinNebraska.”

“Cutthatout,”HoneySmithorderedcrisply.

“We-we-weretryingtofigureourchancesincaseofawreck,”Frank
Merrillcontinuedslowly.“Yousee,we’reoutofthebeatenpath-way
out.Thosedaysofdriftingcookedourgoose.Youcannevertell,of
course,whatwillhappeninthePacificwheretherearesomanytramp
craft.Ontheotherhand-”hepausedandhesitated.Itwasevident,
nowthathehadsomethingtoexpound,thatMerrillhadhimselfalmost
undercommand,thathishesitationarosefromanothercause.“Well,
we’reallmen.Iguessit’suptometotellyouthetruth.Thesooner
youallknowtheworst,thesooneryou’llpullyourselvestogether.I

shouldn’tbesurprisedifwedidn’tseeashipforseveralweeksperhapsmonths.”

Anotheroftheirmuteintervalsfelluponthem.Dozensofwavesflashed
andcrashedtheirwayupthebeach;butnowtheytrailedaniridescent
networkoffoamoverthelilac-graysand.Thesunracedhigh;butnowit
pouredafloodoflightonthegreen-graywater.Theairgrewbrightand


brighter.Theearthgrewwarmandwarmer.Bluecameintothesky,
deepened-andtheseareflectedit,Suddenlytheworldwasonehuge
glitteringbubble,halfofwhichwasthebrilliantazureskyandhalf
theburnishedazuresea.Noneofthefivemenlookedattheseaandsky
now.TheotherfourwereconsideringFrankMerrill’swordsandhewas
consideringtheotherfour.

“Lord,God!”RalphAddingtonexclaimedsuddenly.“Thinkofbeingina
placelikethissixmonthsorayearwithoutawomanround!Why,we’ll
besavagesattheendofthreemonths.”Hesnarledhiswords.Itwasas
ifanewaspectofthesituation-anaspectmorecruciallyalarming
thananyother-hadjuststruckhim.

“Yes,”saidFrankMerrill.Andforamoment,somuchhadherecovered
himself,herevertedtohisacademictype.“Asidefromtheregretand
horrorandshamethatIfeeltohavesurvivedwheneverywomandrowned,
Iconfesstothatfeelingtoo.Womenkeepupthestandardsoflife.It
wouldhavemadeagreatdifferencewithusiftherewereonlyoneortwo
womenhere.”

“Ifthere’dbeenfive,youmean,”RalphAddingtonamended.Afeeble,

white-toothedsmilegleamedoutofhisdarkbeard.He,too,hadpulled
himselftogether;thissmilewasnotmuscularcontraction.“Oneortwo,
andthefatwouldbeinthefire.”

Nobodyaddedanythingtothis.ButnowtheotherthreeconsideredRalph
Addington’swordswiththesameefforttowardsconcentrationthatthey
hadbroughttoFrankMerrill’s.Somehowhissmile-thatflashingsmile
whichshowedsomanyteethagainstabackgroundofdarkbeard-pointed
hiswordsuncomfortably.

Ofthemall,RalphAddingtonwasperhaps,theleastpopular.Thiswas
strange;forhewasathoroughsport,amanofawideexperience.Hewas
salesmanforabusinessconcernthatmanufacturedawhiteshoe-polish,
andhemadetheroundsoftheOrientalcountrieseveryyear.Hewasa
carefulandintelligentobserverbothofmenandthings.Hewaswidely
ifnotdeeplyread.Hewasaninterestingtalker.Hecould,foror
instance,meeteachoftheotherfouronsomepointofmentalcontact.A
superficialknowledgeofsociologyandapracticalexperiencewithmany
racesbroughthimandFrankMerrillintofrequentdiscussion.His
interestinallathleticsportsandhisfirsthandinformationinregard
tothemmadecommongroundbetweenhimandBillyFairfax.WithHoney


Smith,hetalkedbusiness,adventure,andromance;withPeteMurphy,
Germanopera,Frenchliterature,Americanmuckraking,andJapaneseart.
Theflawwhichmadehimalienwasnotofpersonalitybutofcharacter.

Hepresentedtheanomalyofamanscrupulouslyhonorableinregardto
hisownsex,andabsolutelycodelessinregardtotheother.Hewaswhat

modernnomenclaturecallsa“contemporaneousvarietist.”Hewas,in
brief,anoffensivetypeoflibertine.Woman,firstandforemost,was
hisgame.Everywomanattractedhim.Nowomanheldhim.Anynewwoman,
howeverplain,immediatelyeclipsedherpredecessor,howeverbeautiful.
Thefactthatamorousintereststookprecedenceoverallotherswas
quiteenoughtomakehimvaguelyunpopularwithmen.Butasinaddition,
hewasaphysicaltypewhichmanywomenfindinteresting,itislikely
thataninstinctivesex-jealousy,unformulatedbutinevitable,biassed
theirjudgment.Hewasatypicalbusinessman;butinappearancehe
representedtheconventionalideaofanartist.Tall,muscular,
graceful,hairthickandalittlewavy,beardpointedandgolden-brown,
eyesliquidandlong-lashed,womencalledhim“interesting.”Therewas,
moreover,alwaysaslighttouchofthepicturesqueinhisclothes;he
wasmasterofthesmallamatoryruseswhichdelightflirtatiouswomen.



Inbrief,menwerealwaysdividedintheirownmindsinregardtoRalph
Addington.Theyknewthat,constantly,hebrokeeverycanonofthat
mysteriousflexible,half-developedcodewhichgovernstheirrelations
withwomen.Butnolawofthatcodecompelledthemtopunishhimfor
ungeneroustreatmentofsomebody’selsewifeorsister.Hadhebeen
dishonorablewiththem,hadheonceborrowedwithoutpaying,hadheonce
cheatedatcards,theywouldhaveostracizedhimforever.Hehaddone
noneofthesethings,ofcourse.

“Byjiminy!”exclaimedHoneySmith,“howIhatetheunfamiliarairof
everything.I’dliketoputmylampsonsomethingIknow.Aranchanda
round-upwouldlookprettygoodtomeatthismoment.OraNewEngland
farmhousewiththecowscominghome.Thatwouldsetmeupquickerthana

highball.”

“TheUniversitycampuswouldseemlikeheaventome,”FrankMerrill
confesseddrearily,“andI’dgotsotheverysightofitnearlydroveme
insane.”

“TheGreatWhiteWayformine,”saidPeteMurphy,“atnight-allthe
corsetandwhiskysignsflashing,thestreetsjammedwith


benzine-buggies,thesidewalkscrowdedwithboobs,andeverylobster
palacefilledtotheroofwithchorusgirls.”

“Say,”BillyFairfaxburstoutsuddenly;andforthefirsttimesince
theshipwreckavoiceamongthemcarriedaclearbusiness-likenoteof
curiosity.“Youfellowstroubledwithyoureyes?Assureasshooting,
I’mseeingthings.Outinthewestthere-blackspots-anyoftherest
ofyougetthem?”

Oneortwoofthegroupglancedcursorilybackwards.Apairof
perfunctory“Noes!”greetedBilly’sinquiry.

“Well,I’mdaffythen,”Billydecided.Hewentonwithasuddenabnormal
volubility.“QueerthingaboutitisI’vebeenseeingthemthewhole
morning.I’vejustgotbacktothatPointwhereIrealizedtherewas
somethingwrong.I’vealwayshadaremarkablyfarsight.”Herushedon
atthesamespeed;butnowhehadtheairofonewhoistryingto
reconcilepuzzlingphenomenawithnaturallaws.“Anditseemsasifbuttherearenobirdslargeenough-wishitwouldstop,though.
Perhapsyougetadifferentangleofvisiondownintheseparts.Didany
ofyoueverhearofthatRussianpeasantwhocouldseethefourmoonsof

Jupiterwithoutaglass?Theastronomerstellabouthim.”

Nobodyansweredhisquestion.Butitseemedsuddenlytobringthemback
tothenormal.

“Seehere,boys,”FrankMerrillsaid,anunexpectednoteofauthorityin
hisvoice,“wecan’tsithereallthemorninglikethis.Weoughttorig
upasignal,incaseanyship-.Moreover,we’vegottogettogetherand
saveasmuchaswecan.We’llbehungryinalittlewhile.Wecan’tlie
downonthatjobtoolong.”

HoneySmithjumpedtohisfeet.“Well,Lordknows,Iwanttogetbusy.I
don’twanttodoanymorethinking,thankyou.HowIache!Everymuscle
inmybodyisraisingparticularHadesatthismoment.”

Theotherspulledthemselvesup,groaned,stretched,easedprotesting
muscles.SuddenlyHoneySmithpoundedBillyFairfaxontheshoulder,
“You’reit,Billy,”hesaidandrandownthebeach.Inanotherinstant
theywereallplayingtag.Thischangedafterfiveminutestobaseball
withalemonforaballandachair-legforabat.Amoodofwild
exhilarationcaughtthem.Theinevitablepsychologicalreactionhadset


in.TheirmorbidhorrorofNaturevanishedinitsvitalizingfloodlike
acobwebinaflame.Neverhadseaorskyorearthseemedmorelovely,
morelusciously,voluptuouslylovely.Thesparkleofthesaltwind
tingledthroughtheirbodieslikeanelectriccurrent.Thewarmthinthe
airlappedthemlikeahotbath.Joy-in-lifeflaredupinthemtosucha

heightthatitkeptthemrunningandleapingmeaninglessly.Theyshouted
wildphrasestoeachother.Theyburstintosong.Attimestheyyelled
scrapsofverse.

“We’llcomeacrosssomethingtoeatsoon,”saidFrankMerrill,breathing
hard.“Thenwe’llbeallright.”

“Ifeel-better-forthatrun-already,”pantedBillyFairfax.
“Haven’tseenablackspotforfiveminutes.”

Nobodypaidanyattentiontohim,andinafewminuteshewaspayingno
attentiontohimself.Theirexpeditionwasofferingtoomanyshocksof
horrorandpathos.Fortunatelythechangeintheirmoodheld.Itwas,
indeed,asunnaturalastheirtorpor,andmustinevitablybringitsown
reaction.Butaftereachofthesetragicencounters,theyrecovered
buoyancy,recovereditwitharesiliencythathadsomethingalmost


light-headedaboutit.

“Wewon’ttouchanyofthemnow,”FrankMerrillorderedperemptorily.
“Wecanattendtothemlater.They’llkeepcomingback.Whatwe’vegot
todoistothinkofthefuture.Geteverythingoutofthewaterthat
looksuseful-immediatelyuseful,”hecorrectedhimself.“Don’tbother
aboutanythingabovehigh-watermark-that’stheretostay.Andwork
likehelleveryoneofyou!”

Worktheydidforthreehours,workedwithakindoffrenzieddelightin
actionandprickedonbyaravenoushunger.Inandoutofthecombers
theydashed,playingadesperategameofchancewithDeath.

Helter-skelter,hit-or-miss,inablindorgyofrescue,atfirstthey
pulledouteverythingtheycouldreach.Repeatedly,FrankMerrill
stoppedtolecturethemonthefoolishriskstheyweretaking,onthe
stupidityofsuchawasteofenergy.“Savewhatweneed!’heiterated
andreiterated,bellowingtomakehimselfheard.“Whatwecanusenowcannedstuff,tools,clothes!Thislumber’llcomebackonthenext
tide.”

Heseemedtokeepasupervisingeyeonallofthem;forhisvoice,


shoutingindividualorders,boomedconstantlyoverthecrashofthe
waves.Realizingfinallythathewasthemanofthehour,theothers
endedbyfollowinghisinstructionsblindly.

Merrill,himself,wasnoshirk.Hisstrengthseemedprodigious.Whenany
oftheothersattemptedtolandsomethingtoobigtohandlealone,he
wasalwaysneartohelp;andyet,unaided,heaccomplishedtwiceasmuch
asthebusiest.

FrankMerrill,professorofasmalluniversityintheMiddleWest,was
thescholarofthegroup,asociologisttravelingintheOrienttostudy
conditions.Hewasnotespeciallypopularwithhiscompanions,although
theyadmiredhimanddeferredtohim.Ontheotherhand,hewasnot
unpopular;itwasmorethattheystoodalittleinaweofhim.

Onhismentalside,hewasatypicalacademicproduct.Normallyhis
conversation,bothinsubject-matterandinverbalform,boretowards
pedantry.Itwasonecuriouseffectofthiscrisisthathehadreverted
tothecrispAnglo-Saxonofhisfarm-nurturedyouth.

Onhismoralside,hewasatypicalreformer,amanofimpeccable


privatecharacter,solitary,alittleaustere.Hehadnevermarried;he
hadneversoughtthecompanyofwomen,andinfactheknewnothingabout
them.Womenhadhadnomorebearingonhislifethanthefourth
dimension.

Onhisphysicalsidehewasawonder.

Sixfeetfourinheight,twohundredandfiftypoundsinweight,he
lookedtheviking.Hehadcarriedtothevergeofmiddleagethehabits
ofanathleticyouth.Itwassaidthathalfhispopularityinhis
universityworldwasduetotherespecthecommandedfromthestudents
becauseofhisextraordinaryfeatsinwalkingandlifting.Hewas
impressive,almosthandsome.Forwhatofhisfacehisragged,rusty
beardleftuncoveredwasregularlyifcoldlyfeatured.Hewasasceticin
type.Moreover,thelookoftheborndisciplinarianlayonhim.Hisblue
eyescarriedaglacialgleam.Eventhroughhisthickmustache,thelines
ofhismouthshowediron.

Afterawhile,HoneySmithcameacrossawater-tighttinofmatches.
“GreatScott,fellows!”heexclaimed.“I’mhungryenoughtodrop.Let’s
knockoffforawhileandfeedourfaces.Howaboutmockturtle,chicken