Mountain Home Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1915-1946, 1921-11-19
(cHAPTER vI--contInued).


1t was fortunate that Cookie knew
nothing of the solitary grave some
where on the island, with its stone
marked with B. HI. and cross-bones,
Tor that the inhabitant thereof was
supposed to walk. If he had, think
the strange spectacle Of lone negro
I'm small boat rowing Justify for the
American continent might soon have
been witnessed on the Pacific by any
eyes that were there to see, And we
could Ill have spared either boat or
cook.
Yet even though unvexed by this
grewsome knowledge, after two or
three days l noticed that Cookie was
iii at ease. AS the leisure member of
The party, ! enjoyed more of Cookies
society than the rest. On this occa-
sion while the morning was still In It's
freshness he was permitting me to
make fudge. But his usual joviality
WAS gone. saw that he glanced over
his shoulder at intervals, muttering
darkly to himself. Also that rabbits
foot was slung consplcuously about
his neck.
Having made my fudge and set the
pan on a stone In the stream to cool.
] was about to retire with view to
conducting limited exploring expedi-
tion of my own. The assurances Of
Mr.. Shaw--not personally directed to
me, Of course; tAe armed truce I'M
der which we lived did not permit of
khat--had convinced me that l had
not to dread anything more ferocious
than the pigs, and the widest of them
would retire before stick or a stone.
Besides, | boosted little automatic,
which carried strapped to my waist
I'm a businesslike manner. Mr.. Vane
had almost got me to the point where
I could shoot 1t of without shutting
my eyes.
/ Thus equipped, l was about to set
off into the woods. / had turned my
back ON Cookie and the camp, when
j was arrested by an exclamation:
] "Miss Jinnyl"
/ turned to find Cookie gazing after
me with an expression which, in the
familiar phrase Of fiction, l could not
interpret, though among its ingredi-
ents were doubt and anguish. Cookie,
too, looked pale. don't In the least
know how he managed 1t, but that
was the impression he conveyed,
6usky as he was,
"Miss jimmy, It mos look lax yo'
bout to go perambulatin' in desc yere
wo0ds?"
II am, Cookie" admitted.
The whites OF Cookies eyes became
alarmingly conspicuous Drawing
near In a stealthy manner he whis-
pered:
"Yo' bettah not, Miss Jinnyr'
"Oh, nonsense, Cookie |" said I'm
patiently. "There's not thing on the
island but the pigs,"
"Miss jimmy" he solemnly replied,
rdey's pigs and pigs"
/ Eyes. but pigs Is pigs, you know"
i answered, laughing.
'Dey's pigs and pigs, chile--live
ones and--dead ones"
dead onesl OF course-haven't we
been eating them?
'Yo' won't nevah eat dis we're kind
o. dead pig, Miss jimmy. lists
ha'nt"
The murder was out. Cookie leaned
against cocoa-palm and wiped his
ebon brow.
Persistently questioned, he told at
last how, today and yesterday, aris-
ing In the dim dawn to build his fire
before the camp was stirring, he had
seen lurking at the edge of the clear
Ing white four-footed shape. II was
b pig, yet not pig; Its ghostly hue,
Its nolseless movements, divided II
from all proper mundane porkers by
the dreadful gulf which divides the
living from the dead. The first morn .
j. & Cookie, doubtful of his senses,
had flung stone and the spectral
Thing bad vanished Ike shadow.
lDn its SECOND appearance, having had