The Unspeakable Perk Part 13

"So he would. What then?"

"Oh, I'd have held him there till he got cooled off, and then made a run for it. A wet man can't catch a dry man."

"Say, son, YOU'RE a dry one, all right."

"Eh?"

"Wake up! I'm saying you're all right."

"Much obliged."

"You certainly took enough off him to rile a sheep. Why didn't you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Tip him in."

Perkins glanced upward at the balcony where the vines had closed upon a face that smiled.

"Oh," he said mildly, "he's a friend of a friend of mine."

IV

TWO ON A MOUNTAIN-SIDE

ORCHIDS do not, by preference, grow upon a cactus plant. Little though she recked of botany, Miss Brewster was aware of this fundamental truth.

Neither do they, without extraneous impulsion, go hurtling through the air along deserted mountain-sides, to find a resting-place far below; another natural-history fact which the young lady appreciated without being obliged to consult the literature of the subject. Therefore, when, from the top of the appointed rock, she observed a carefully composed bunch of mauve Cattleyas describe a parabola and finally join two previous cl.u.s.ters upon the spines of a p.r.i.c.kly-pear patch, she divined some energizing force back of the phenomenon. That energizing force she surmised was temper.

"Fie!" said she severely. "Beetle gentlemen should control their little feelings. Naughty, naughty!"

From below rose a fervid and startled exclamation.

"Naughtier, naughtier!" deprecated the visitor. "Are these the cold and measured terms of science?"

"You haven't lived up to your bet," complained the censured one.

"Indeed I have! I always play fair, and pay fair. Here I am, as per contract."

"Nearly half an hour late."

"Not at all. Four-thirty was the time."

"And now it is three minutes to five."

"Making twenty-seven minutes that I've been sitting here waiting for a welcome."

"Waiting? Oh, Miss Brewster--"

"I'm not Miss Brewster. I'm a voice in the wilderness."

"Then, Voice, you haven't been there more than one minute. A voice isn't a voice until it makes a noise like a voice. Q.E.D."

"There is something in that argument," she admitted. "But why didn't you come up and look for me?"

"Does one look for a sound?"

"Please don't be so logical. It tires my poor little brain. You might at least have called."

"That would have been like holding you up for payment of the bet, wouldn't it? I was waiting for you to speak."

"Not good form in Caracuna. The senor should always speak first."

"You began the other time," he pointed out.

"So I did, but that was under a misapprehension. I hadn't learned the customs of the country then. By the way, is it a local custom for hermits of science to climb breakneck precipices for golden-hearted orchids to send to casual acquaintances?"

"Is that what you are?" he queried in a slightly depressed tone.

"What on earth else could I be?" she returned, amused.

"Of course. But we all like to pretend that our fairy tales are permanent, don't we?"

"I can readily picture you chasing beetles, but I can't see you chasing fairies at all," she a.s.serted positively.

"Nor can I. If you chase them, they vanish. Every one knows that."

"Anyway, your orchids were fit for a fairy queen. I haven't thanked you for them yet."

"Indeed you have. Much more than they deserve. By coming here to-day."

"Oh, that was a point of honor. Are you going to let those lovely purple ones wither on that p.r.i.c.kly plant down there? Think how much better they'd look pinned on me--if there were any one here to see and appreciate."

If this were a hint, it failed of its aim, for, as the hermit scuttled out from his shelter, looking not unlike some bulky protrusive-eyed insect, secured the orchids, and returned, he never once glanced up.

Safe again in his rock-bound retreat, he spoke:--

"'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.'"

"So you do know something of fairies and fairy lore!" she cried.

"Oh, it wasn't much more than a hundred years ago that I read my Grimm.

In the story, only one call was necessary."

"Well, I can't spare any more of my silken tresses. I brought a string this time. Where's the other hair line?"

"I've used it to tether a fairy thought so that it can't fly away from me. Draw up slowly."

"Thank you so much, and I'm so glad that you are feeling better."