"Do you
feel that? Is there any sensation?"
"Yes, sar! Shortly I shall suffer a swelling." Allan stroked the
spot tenderly.
"It's all imagination; there's no feeling to solid bone. You've
got an ivory 'nut,' my friend, just like a cane."
"Ivory-nuts grow upon trees, sar, in the Darien region."
Anthony regarded him sourly. "The Brunswick-Balke people never
turned out anything half so round and half so hard. That burr of
yours is a curio. I told you Chiquita was small and beautiful and
dainty and--Oh, what's the use! This dame is a truck-horse. She's
the color of a saddle."
"Oh, she is not too dark, sar." Allan came loyally to the defence
of Miss Torres. "Some of the finest people in Panama is blacker
than that. There is but few who are h'all w'ite."
"Well, SHE'S all white, and I want you to find her to-day--TO-DAY,
understand? You gallop out to the Savannas and make some
inquiries." He shook his fist in Allan's face. "If you don't learn
something this trip, I'll have your lignum-vitae cranium in a
bowling-alley by dark. Lord! If I only spoke Spanish!"
Allan reluctantly departed, and Kirk went back to his quarters in
high displeasure. It seemed as if the affair had actually left a
bad taste in his mouth.
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