“But now?” he thought as the drumming rose louder and the dancers leaped in wilder circles, “now what can they want? It is their land. This is a republic. They are free. True, there are the Marines. But they are the servants of this nation as well as our own. They are here to help the people find their way out.” There came a pause in his thoughts. There had been rumors of intrigue against the present government. In every land there are the dissatisfied ones, especially in a small republic.
“And this girl, this American girl,” he thought, “has called them together for this.” The thing seemed unbelievable, yet had he not seen her drumming the signal call?
His thoughts broke short off. From before him there had sounded a shrill whisper.
“If only we could get their goat.”
He heard the words plainly but could not believe his ears. The words had come from the girl’s lips. She had discovered him and had not cried out in fright. What a truly remarkable girl!
“If only we could get their goat,” she repeated, for all the world as if she had known him always, and as if he should understand what she meant.
Once more Curlie’s heart leaped. Who was this strange girl? What could she mean?
For the answer to this second question, he had not long to wait.
“They’ve got a goat, a very black goat.” The girl’s whisper was low but distinct. “They’re going to sacrifice it. It’s a voodoo custom, you know. There are always the witch doctors to lead them on. And besides, just now there is Pluto. Pluto is a big, bad man, a sort of leader, who wants money and power. He thinks he can drive the Marines away and overturn the government. He will make these people mad with wild dances. Then Papa Lou will sacrifice the black goat which they think will bring them success.”
“We can’t get their goat.” Curlie whispered.