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Yuh can bank on Miss Mary playin' the game, an' registerin' surprise an' worry an' all the rest of it. There ain't a chance in the world of his thinkin' to look for me here." "I reckon that's true. Of course we've got to remember that so far as he knows I'm out of the way for good." Bud took up coffee-pot and stew-pan and set them down beside Stratton, where the rest of the meal was spread.
We was on Nunca Secos Key, with the Gulf of Mexico murmurin' gentle behind us, and out in front a big red sun was blazin' through the black pines that edge the west coast of Florida. Five of us, includin' Vee and Captain Rupert Killam and me; and each in our own peculiar way was registerin' the Pollyanna-Mrs. Wiggs stuff. Why not?
Auntie, the sober old girl with the mixed-pickle disposition, suddenly comin' to life and pinchin' Old Hickory's find while he's tryin' to make up his mind whether it's phony or not. Auntie, of all people! More hearty haw-haws. When I finally does drift into Old Hickory's private office and he motions me to shut the door, I'm still registerin' merry thoughts.
"Your dad registered his brand the Double A. But that don't let you out. Accordin' to the law you've got to do your registerin' same as though the brand had never been registered before. Bein' the only law around here me bein' a deputy sheriff I've got to look out for that end of it.
They was usin' three of these pneumatic drills and they sure were ripping it up slick and speedy. About then I noticed that their compressor was chugging away nearly opposite me and that the lines of hose stretched out fifty feet or more. "Say!" says I jerky and breathless, but to nobody in particular. I was just registerin' the fact that I'd had a sudden thought.
"Much obliged for nothin'," says I. Course, there wa'n't any use registerin' a kick. Orders is orders, and we was on the wrong side of the fence. Mallory and I takes a turn through the corridors and past the main dinin'-room, where they keeps an orchestra playin' so's the got-rich-quick folks won't hear each other eat their soup. We was tryin' to think up a new move.
"If you please, sir," says Peters, registerin' deep agitation, "might I have a word with you in er in private, sir?" "Nonsense, Peters," says Waldo. "Don't be mysterious about silly housekeeping trifles. What is it? Come, speak up, man." "As you like, sir," goes on Peters. "It it's about the laundress, sir. She's sitting on a man in the basement, sir." "Wha-a-at?" gasps Waldo.
Real snappy this time. Guess I'd better flash it to him, eh?" "No, no!" says Rupert. "It's no business of his. This is a private yacht bound for a home port. Let him whistle." It struck me at the time as a nutty thing to do, but of course I'm no judge. I had a hunch that Rupert was registerin' importance and showin' how he was boss of the expedition something he hadn't a chance to get over before.
Nice mornin', ain't it?" "Bah!" says he, registerin' deep disgust, as they say in the movie scripts. "You'll do well if you last eight or ten days." "How cheerin'!" says I, and as he swings off with a final glare I tips him the humorous wink. Why not? No young-man-afraid-of-his-job part for me! Briscoe might get it away from me, or he might not; but I wa'n't goin' to get panicky over it.
A jaunty young chap with out-standin' clothes, an' a brindle bull-terrier was registerin' their names, an' if I was in my right mind I knew them folks for true. I was feelin' exuberant to a dangerous limit, an' I sneaks up an' unsnaps the bull-terrier from the leash what the porter was holdin'. Well, it was Cupid all right, an' he was bugs to see me.
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