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Two Recalls
"Dinkylittlemudhouses;grassoveryourshoetopsinthestreets;ladiesinlow-neck-and-short-sleeveswalkingaroundsmokingcigars;treefrogsrattlinglikeahosecartgoingtoatenblow;bigmountainsdroppinggravelinthebackyards,andthesealickingthepaintoffinfront—no,sir—amanhadbetterbeinGod’scountrylivingonfreelunchthanthere.
"Themainstreetranalongthebeach,andIwalkeddownit,andthenturnedupakindoflanewherethehousesweremadeofpolesandstraw.Iwantedtoseewhatthemonkeysdidwhentheyweren’tclimbingcocoanuttrees.TheveryfirstshackIlookedinIsawmypeople.TheymusthavecomeashorewhileIwaspromenading.Amanaboutfifty,smoothface,heavyeyebrows,dressedinblackbroadcloth,lookinglikehewasjustabouttosay,‘CananylittleboyintheSundayschoolanswerthat?’Hewasfreezingontoagripthatweighedlikeadozengoldbricks,andaswellgirl—aregularpeach,withaFifthAvenuecut—wassittingonawoodenchair.Anoldblackwomanwasfixingsomecoffeeandbeansonatable.Thelighttheyhadcomefromalanternhungonanail.Iwentandstoodinthedoor,andtheylookedatme,andIsaid:
"‘Mr.Wahrfield,youaremyprisoner.Ihope,forthelady’ssake,youwilltakethemattersensibly.YouknowwhyIwantyou.’
"‘Whoareyou?’saystheoldgent.
"‘O’Day,’saysI,‘oftheColumbiaDetectiveAgency.Andnow,sir,letmegiveyouapieceofgoodadvice.Yougobackandtakeyourmedicinelikeaman.
