Короли и капуста
“Fox-in-the-Morning”
Theox-eyedwomengazedathimwithshyadmiration,forhistypedrewthem.Hewasbig,blonde,andjauntilydressedinwhitelinen,withbuckskinzapatos.Hismannerwascourtly,withasortofkindlytruculenceinit,temperedbyamercifuleye.Whenthetelegramhadbeendelivered,andthebearerofitdismissedwithagratuity,therelievedpopulacereturnedtothecontiguitiesofshadefromwhichcuriosityhaddrawnit—thewomentotheirbakinginthemudovensundertheorange-trees,ortotheinterminablecombingoftheirlong,straighthair;thementotheircigarettesandgossipinthecantinas.
GoodwinsatonKeogh’sdoorstep,andreadhistelegram.ItwasfromBobEnglehart,anAmerican,wholivedinSanMateo,thecapitalcityofAnchuria,eightymilesintheinterior.Englehartwasagoldminer,anardentrevolutionistand"goodpeople."Thathewasamanofresourceandimaginationwasprovenbythetelegramhehadsent.IthadbeenhistasktosendaconfidentialmessagetohisfriendinCoralio.ThiscouldnothavebeenaccomplishedineitherSpanishorEnglish,fortheeyepoliticinAnchuriawasanactiveone.TheInsandtheOutswereperpetuallyontheirguard.ButEnglehartwasadiplomatist.Thereexistedbutonecodeuponwhichhemightmakerequisitionwithpromiseofsafety—thegreatandpotentcodeofSlang.