Police!!! | Page 6

and pretty woman.
I often wonder what particular combination of facial muscles are
brought into play when that politely receptive expression transforms
the normal and masculine features into a fixed simper.
When Kemper and I had seated ourselves, I calmly cut short the small
talk in which he was already indulging, and to which, I am sorry to say,
my pretty waitress was beginning to respond. I had scarcely thought it
of her--but that's neither here nor there--and I invited her to recapitulate
the circumstances which had resulted in our present foregathering here

on this strip of coral in the Atlantic Ocean.
She did so very modestly and without embarrassment, stating the case
and reviewing the evidence so clearly and so simply that I could see
how every word she uttered was not only amazing but also convincing
Kemper.
When she had ended he asked a few questions very seriously:
"Granted," he said, "that the pituitary gland represents what we assume
it represents, how much faith is to be placed in the testimony of a
Seminole Indian?"
"A Seminole Indian," she replied, "has seldom or never been known to
lie. And where a whole tribe testify alike the truth of what they assert
can not be questioned."
"How did you make them talk? They are a sullen, suspicious people,
haughty, uncommunicative, seldom even replying to an ordinary
question from a white man."
"They consider me one of them."
"Why?" he asked in surprise.
"I'll tell you why. It came about through a mere accident. I was waitress
at the hotel; it happened to be my afternoon off; so I went down to the
coquina dock to study. I study in my leisure moments, because I wish
to fit myself for a college examination."
Her charming face became serious; she picked up the hem of her apron
and continued to pleat it slowly and with precision as she talked:
"There was a Seminole named Tiger-tail sitting there, his feet dangling
above his moored canoe, evidently waiting for the tide to turn before he
went out to spear crayfish. I merely noticed he was sitting there in the
sunshine, that's all. And then I opened my mythology book and turned
to the story of Argus, on which I was reading up.

"And this is what happened: there was a picture of the death of Argus,
facing the printed page which I was reading--the well-known picture
where Juno is holding the head of the decapitated monster--and I had
read scarcely a dozen words in the book before the Seminole beside me
leaned over and placed his forefinger squarely upon the head of Argus.
"'Who?' he demanded.
"I looked around good-humoredly and was surprised at the evident
excitement of the Indian. They're not excitable, you know.
"'That,' said I, 'is a Greek gentleman named Argus.' I suppose he
thought I meant a Minorcan, for he nodded. Then, without further
comment, he placed his finger on Juno.
"'Who?' he inquired emphatically.
"I said flippantly: 'Oh, that's only my aunt, Juno.'
"'Aunty of you?'
"'Yes.'
"'She kill 'um Three-eye?'
"Argus had been depicted with three eyes.
"'Yes,' I said, 'my Aunt Juno had Argus killed.'
"'Why kill 'um?'
"'Well, Aunty needed his eyes to set in the tails of the peacocks which
drew her automobile. So when they cut off the head of Argus my aunt
had the eyes taken out; and that's a picture of how she set them into the
peacock.'
"'Aunty of you?' he repeated.
"'Certainly,' I said gravely; 'I am a direct descendant of the Goddess of

Wisdom. That's why I'm always studying when you see me down on
the dock here.'
"'You Seminole!' he said emphatically.
"'Seminole,' I repeated, puzzled.
"'You Seminole! Aunty Seminole--you Seminole!'
"'Why, Tiger-tail?'
"'Seminole hunt Three-eye long time--hundred, hundred year--hunt 'um
Three-eye, kill 'um Three-eye.'
"'You say that for hundreds of years the Seminoles have hunted a
creature with three eyes?'
"'Sure! Hunt 'um now!'
"'Now?'
"'Sure!'
"'But, Tiger-tail, if the legends of your people tell you that the
Seminoles hunted a creature with three eyes hundreds of years ago,
certainly no such three-eyed creatures remain today?'
"'Some.'
"'What! Where?'
"'Black Bayou.'
"'Do you mean to tell me that a living creature with three eyes still
inhabits the forests of Black Bayou?'
"'Sure. Me see 'um. Me kill 'um three-eye man.'
"'You have killed a man who had three eyes?'

"'Sure!'
"'A man? With three eyes?'
"'Sure.'"
* * * * *
The pretty waitress, excitedly engrossed in her story, was
unconsciously acting out the thrilling scene of her dialogue with the
Indian, even imitating his voice and gestures. And Kemper and I
listened and watched her breathlessly, fascinated by her lithe and
supple grace as well as by the astounding story she was so frankly
unfolding with the consummate artlessness