makes me gasp. I am glad in a way that he cannot see my face at this moment.
'Hell, I wonder if that lazy piece of a girl has left me a gulp of coffee.' His words give me back my breath. 'The devil, I am thirsty.'
The girl, that lazy piece, knows no English, but coffee she has understood and from the questioning tone in his voice she knew what Sleigh wanted.
So from under the mosquito bar she says: 'There is some left on the fire on the hearth.' Of course, she answers in Spanish.
While Sleigh was away she had slept profoundly, as I gathered from her deep, quiet breathing. Nevertheless, with the excellent hearing of an Indian, she had been aware of Sleigh's coming, while I, fully awake and facing the entrance, had heard nothing.
'De veras?' Sleigh says. 'That's almost as good as a diamond found on the prairie.' In a tired manner he goes to the back of the hut where the enamelled pot full of coffee had been left on the smouldering ashes of the hearth.
'How about you, Gales? Have 'nother cup of coffee?'
'No. Thanks just the same.'
The girl snores already. As quickly as she had come out of her dreams, so quickly had she returned to them.
Sleigh sat before me. After a time during which he seemed to doze he said: 'Damn the whole outfit. I can't find that devil of a cow. Not for a thousand dollars could I bring her home. She has got her calf here in the corral, that damn devil has. Every evening she comes home all right without any trouble. Also at mid-day when it gets too hot and the cattle are plagued by horseflies, she comes in with all the others to lie down under the trees. I'm plumb sure we've got a lion around. Maybe even a couple of lions. Perez, one of the neighbours, he has a fine goat, a milker, she hasn't come home for days. He too is sure we've got lions. The fact is that goat will never come home again. It's gone for good. The cow has always been very punctual, almost like a clock. Something is queer about the whole damn machinery, that's what I tell you. Well, we'll see tomorrow. Now, in such pitch-dark night, I can do nothing about it, not a thing.'
A minute later he's asleep. In spite of his being asleep he nods, frowns, murmurs, smiles at what I say, just as if he were awake.
'Hi, you!' I shout suddenly. 'Listen, you, if you wish to sleep, all right, then, sleep, only don't let me talk here to the walls.'
'Asleep? Who is asleep? I asleep?' he yells as if I had insulted him. 'I'm never asleep. I don't sleep at all. That's just the trouble here. I haven't got no time to sleep. I've heard every word you said. That thief Barreiro you are talking about. Gee, I've known him for years. Didn't I know him when I was on that cocoa plantation down near Coacoyular? He's a thief all right, and a killer too, if you ask me.'
'What's the matter with that dance?' I ask him. 'The whole day long we've heard nothing else but the dance tonight. Is there a dance or is there? If not, well, I'll turn in. I'm sick of that babble about a dance which never happens.'
'All right, all right, don't get upset about that dance. Here we take our time and don't hustle. Let's go once more to the pump and see how things are. I'm sure the pump-master has got the problem solved. He doesn't want to be stuck with his beer and his soda.'
Without hurrying, Sleigh pulled down his leather pants, looked around until he found a broken comb, combed his hair as butchers and saloon-keepers used to wear it twenty-five years ago, put on a pair of yellow cotton pants, and then said: 'Well, I'm all set now for the dance. Let's go. If I only had the faintest idea where that damned cow might be!'
When we passed Garcia's home I noticed that the lantern was still hanging on the post in the portico. Garcia, though, was no longer sitting on the bench. Nor did I see the two boys. Through the wall I got a peep at Garcia's wife, making up by the dim light of a lamp like Sleigh's.
'Well, well!' I said to him. 'There will be a dance all right. The senora is