“I know—I just thought maybe ... say, Unk, is the Brazil-nut’s cabin the fourth one from ours?”
“I believe so. Why?”
“Just that there wasn’t a light or anything. But then, maybe he went to bed.”
“Even a Brazilian like Señor Goncalves has to go to bed, you know.”
Hal smiled good-naturedly at the playful thrust and shook back an errant lock of hair from his forehead.
“Even so, Unk, my impression of him is that he goes to bed when other people don’t. Don’t ask me why I think it. I couldn’t tell you. That bird is a riddle to me.”
“And you’re going to solve him yourself, I suppose?”
“Me?” asked Hal. He laughed. “I’d like to, but, who knows?”
Who, indeed!