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Updated: June 2, 2025
Here the old man launched into a disquisition on germs and their natures, using words and phrases of such extraordinary length and meaninglessness, that the boys grinned at one another and looked out over the deserted ocean till they forgot the old man was babbling on. "But the Scarlet Death, Granser," Edwin at last suggested.
But Hare-Lip, with a sling such as David carried into battle against Goliath, hurled a stone through the air that whistled from the speed of its flight. It fell squarely among the wolves and caused them to slink away toward the dark depths of the eucalyptus forest. The boys laughed and lay down again in the sand, while Granser sighed ponderously.
"I tell you I seen 'em, last winter, when I was wolf-hunting with dad." "Well, you always spit when you cross running water," Edwin challenged. "That's to keep off bad luck," was Hare-Lip's defence. "You believe in bad luck?" "Sure." "An' you ain't never seen bad luck," Edwin concluded triumphantly. "You're just as bad as Granser and his germs. You believe in what you don't see. Go on, Granser."
It was a shell with legs and all complete, but the meat had long since departed. With shaky fingers and babblings of anticipation, the old man broke off a leg and found it filled with emptiness. "The crabs, Hoo-Hoo?" he wailed. "The crabs?" "I was fooling Granser. They ain't no crabs! I never found one."
"Going to string 'em," was the response. The three boys were now hard at it; and quite a knocking and hammering arose, in which Granser babbled on unnoticed. "You are true savages. Already has begun the custom of wearing human teeth. In another generation you will be perforating your noses and ears and wearing ornaments of bone and shell. I know.
He found it when we was herdin' goats down near San José last spring. Hoo-Hoo said it was money. Ain't you hungry, Granser?" The ancient caught his staff in a tighter grip and urged along the trail, his old eyes shining greedily. "I hope Har-Lip 's found a crab... or two," he mumbled.
When he got into the full swing of babbling to himself, it slowly purged itself into pure English. The sentences grew longer and were enunciated with a rhythm and ease that was reminiscent of the lecture platform. "Tell us about the Red Death, Granser," Hare-Lip demanded, when the teeth affair had been satisfactorily concluded. "The Scarlet Death," Edwin corrected.
A hundred feet beyond, in a tangle of bushes, he overtook the wounded creature, knocked its head on a convenient tree-trunk, and turned it over to Granser to carry. "Rabbit is good, very good," the ancient quavered, "but when it comes to a toothsome delicacy I prefer crab. When I was a boy " "Why do you say so much that ain't got no sense?"
"An' don't work all that funny lingo on us," Hare-Lip went on. "Talk sensible, Granser, like a Santa Rosan ought to talk. Other Santa Rosans don't talk like you." THE old man showed pleasure in being thus called upon. He cleared his throat and began. "Twenty or thirty years ago my story was in great demand. But in these days nobody seems interested " "There you go!" Hare-Lip cried hotly.
He's just goin' to tell us about it right now. Sit down, Hare-Lip. Go ahead, Granser." THE old man wiped the tears away on his grimy knuckles and took up the tale in a tremulous, piping voice that soon strengthened as he got the swing of the narrative. "It was in the summer of 2013 that the Plague came. I was twenty-seven years old, and well do I remember it. Wireless despatches "
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