rolling up mystery instead of history. It is telling what man
doesn't know, and in a language which he cannot understand. You're a
beauty scientist, Greggy. This must sink deep."

"It does," said Gregson. "What the deuce are you getting at, Phil?"

"I'm arriving gradually and without undue haste to the point, Greggy.
I'm about to tell you why I induced you to join me up here. I hesitate
at the last word. It seems almost brutal, taking into consideration
your philosophy of beauty, to drop from all this--from that blackness
and mystery out there, from Donna Isobels and pretty eyes, down
to--fish."

"Fish!"

"Yes, fish."

Gregson, lighting a fresh cigarette, held the match so that the tiny
flame lighted up his companion's face for a moment.

"Look here," he expostulated, "you haven't got me up here to
go--fishing?"

"Yes--and no," said Philip. "But even if I have--"

He caught Gregson by the arm again, and there was a tightness in the
grip of his fingers which convinced the other that he was speaking
seriously now.

"Do you remember what started the revolution down in Honduras the
second week after we struck Puerto Barrios, Greggy? It was a girl,
wasn't it?"

"Yes, and she wasn't half pretty at that."

"It was less than a girl," went on Philip. "Scene: the palm plaza at
Ceiba. President Belize is drinking wine with his cousin, the fiancee
of General O'Kelly Bonilla, the half Irish, half Latin-American leader
of his forces, and his warmest friend. At a moment when their corner of
the plaza is empty Belize helps himself to a cousinly kiss. O'Kelly,
unperceived, arrives in time to witness the act. From that moment his
friendship for Belize turns to hatred and jealousy. Within three weeks
he has started a revolution, beats the government forces at Ceiba,
chases Belize from the capital, gets Nicaragua mixed up in the trouble,
and draws three French, two German, and two American war-ships to the
scene. Six weeks after the wine-drinking he is President of the
Republic, en facto. And all of this, Greggy, because of a kiss. Now, if
a kiss can start a revolution, unseat a President, send a government to
smash, what must be the possibilities of a fish?"

"I'm getting interested," said Gregson. "If there's a climax, come to
it, Phil. I admit that there must be enormous possibilities in--a fish.
Go on!"

II

For a moment the two men stood in silence, listening to the sullen beat
of surf beyond the black edge