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Authors: Travelers In Time

Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (145 page)

BOOK: Philip Van Doren Stern (ed)
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"No
one
ever
thought
I
was
a
fool,"
he
muttered.

He
had
a
feeling
of
good-natured
contempt
for
the
gibbering
dead. Then,
as
he
strolled
along,
he
came
suddenly
upon
two
coolies
digging a
grave.
He
was
astonished,
for
he
had
not
heard
that
anyone
in
the community
was
dead.

"Who
the
devil's
that
for?"
he
said
aloud.

The
coolies
did
not
even
look
at
him,
they
went
on
with
their
work, standing
in
the
grave,
deep
down,
and
they
shovelled
up
heavy
clods of
earth.
Though
he
had
been
so
long
in
China
he
knew
no
Chinese, in
his
day
it
was
not
thought
necessary
to
leam
the
damned
language,, and
he
asked
the
coolies
in
English
whose
grave
they
were
digging. They
did
not
understand.
They
answered
him
in
Chinese
and
he cursed
them
for
ignorant
fools.
He
knew
that
Mrs.
Broome's
child was
ailing
and
it
might
have
died,
but
he
would
certainly
have
heard of
it,
and
besides
that
wasn't
a
child's
grave,
it
was
a
man's
and
a
big man's
too.
It
was
uncanny.
He
wished
he
hadn't
gone
into
that
cemetery;
he
hurried
out
and
stepped
into
his
chair.
His
good
humour
had all
gone
and
there
was
an
uneasy
frown
on
his
face.
The
moment
he got
back
to
his
office
he
called
to
his
number
two:

"I
say,
Peters,
who's
dead,
d'you
know?"

But
Peters
knew
nothing.
The
taipan
was
puzzled.
He
called
one of
the
native
clerks
and
sent
him
to
the
cemetery
to
ask
the
coolies. He
began
to
sign
his
letters.
The
clerk
came
back
and
said
the
coolies had
gone
and
there
was
no
one
to
ask.
The
taipan
began
to
feel vaguely
annoyed:
he
did
not
like
things
to
happen
of
which
he
knew nothing.
His
own
boy
would
know,
his
boy
always
knew
everything, and
he
sent
for
him;
but
the
boy
had
heard
of
no
death
in
the
community.

"I
knew
no
one
was
dead,"
said
the
taipan
irritably.
"But
what's the
grave
for?"

He
told
the
boy
to
go
to
the
overseer
of
the
cemetery
and
find
out what
the
devil
he
had
dug
a
grave
for
when
no
one
was
dead.

"Let
me
have
a
whisky
and
soda
before
you
go,"
he
added,
as
the boy
was
leaving
the
room.

He
did
not
know
why
the
sight
of
the
grave
had
made
him
uncomfortable.
But
he
tried
to
put
it
out
of
his
mind.
He
felt
better
when he
had
drunk
the
whisky,
and
he
finished
his
work.
He
went
upstairs and
turned
over
the
pages
of
Punch.
In
a
few
minutes
he
would
go to
the
club
and
play
a
rubber
or
two
of
bridge
before
dinner.
But
it would
ease
his
mind
to
hear
what
his
boy
had
to
say
and
he
waited for
his
return.
In
a
little
while
the
boy
came
back
and
he
brought
the overseer
with
him.

BOOK: Philip Van Doren Stern (ed)
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