"It doesn't 'sound foolish,'" contradicted Brice. "As it
happens it's just what he wants to do. I don't know just why.
But I mean to find out. He wants me away from a house over
there. A house I had a lot of trouble in getting a foothold
in. It's taken me the best part of a month. And now I don't
mean to spend another month in getting back there."
"No, sir," said Davy, respectfully, still plodding on in
front with head and shoulders bent. "No, sir. Of course.
But--if you'll let me ask, sir--does Hade know? Does he
suspicion you? If that's why he's framed this then Roustabout
Key is no place for you. No more is Dade County. He--"
"No," returned Gavin, smiling at the real terror that had
crept into the other's tone. "He doesn't know. And I'm sure
he doesn't suspect. But he has a notion he's seen me
somewhere. And he's a man who doesn't take chances. Besides
he wants me away from the Standish house. He wants every
outsider away from it. And I knew this would be the likeliest
place for him to maroon me. That's why I sent you word ....
I'm a bit wobbly in my beliefs about the Standishes,--one of
them anyhow. Now, where's this storehouse prison of mine?"
"Over there, sir, to the right. But--"
"Take me over there. And walk slowly. I've some things to
say to you on the way, and I want you to get them straight in
your memory."
"Yes, sir," answered the conch, shifting his course, so as to
bring his steps in a roundabout way toward the squat
storeroom. "And before you begin there's an extra key to the
room under the second packing box to the right. I made it
from Roke's own key when I made duplicates of all the keys
here. I put it there this morning. In case you should want
to get out, you can say you found it lying on the floor there.
I rusted all the keys I made so they look old. He'll likely
think it's an extra key that was lost somewhere in there."
"Thanks," said Gavin. "You're a good boy. And you've got
sense. Now listen:--"
Talking swiftly and earnestly, he followed Davy toward the
square little iron building, the conch outwardly making no
sign that he heard. For, not many yards away, a handful of
conchs and negroes were at work on a half-completed shed.
Davy came to the store-room door, and opened it. Then,
turning to Brice he said aloud in the wretched dialect of his
class:
"Funny avocado fruits all pile up in yon. Mighty funny. Make
yo' laugh. Want to go see? Look!"
He swung wide the iron door and pointed to the almost totally
dark interior.
"Funny to see in yon," he said invitingly. "Never see any
like 'em befo'. I strike light for you. Arter you, my boss."
One or two men working on the nearby shed had stopped their
labor and were glancing covertly toward them.
"Oh, all right!" agreed Brice, his uninterested voice
carrying well though it was not noticeably raised. "It seems
a stuffy sort of hole. But I'll take a look at it if you
like. Where's that light you're going to strike? It--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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