Conquering Kilmarni by Hugh Cave Read Free Book Online Page B

down about a foot, being careful to pile the reddish earth neatly around the opening.
    Reaching into the hole then, he lifted out a metal box about the size of a chocolate box. On his knees Zackie opened it, and then turned so Peter could look down and see what was in it. What was in it was paper money—enough of it, Peter realized, to be really important. "For Kingston," Zackie said, looking up so his gaze met Peter's. "Now you know where me keep it. Just in case."
    Peter nodded.
    Zackie added his wild-pig money to the bills in the tin and returned the container to its hiding place. He carefully refilled the hole with the dirt he had scooped out, and then smoothed the floor so no one would ever suspect anything was buried there. "Okay?" he said, rising to his feet.
    Peter knew he had just been shown something that Zackie Leonard had never shown to anyone else. It scared him a little, but made him feel proud. "Okay," he said, solemnly nodding.
    "Good. Now mek we have some lunch."
    Zackie went to a corner of the little shed and reached up to where the bamboo walls met the roof of old zinc. From a hidden niche there he took two tins of sardines and a plastic bag of bammies. Then to Peter's surprise he reached up again and produced two bottles of the Jamaican soda pop called Kola Champagne.
    By this time Mongoose was jumping up and down, as if his back legs were pogo sticks, and making noise enough to shake the walls.
    "It a little noisy in here, don't you would say?" Zackie remarked with a grin. "Mek we go outside to eat, huh?"
    They sat outside the hut with their backs against one of its bamboo walls and ate the lunch Zackie had provided, sharing it with Mongoose. Every mouthful tasted good to Peter.
    Zackie urged Peter to go back down then. "You will get too tired if you work any more at this," he warned. "Besides, if you don't quit, me must have to give you part of the money Mr. Campbell will pay me for the job." There was a sparkle in his eyes. "You would not want that to happen, would you, with me so poor me must have to hunt dangerous wild pigs for a living?"
    Equally solemn, Peter said, "No, I would not want that to happen," and both boys grinned. Then Peter said goodbye and started back down to the house.
    He stopped in field six, thinking his father might still be there, but Mr. Devon had left. "He left soon after you did," Mr. Campbell said. "He had to go to Morant Bay for the paybill money."
    At the house Miss Lorrie asked Peter what he wanted for lunch and seemed surprised when he told her he had already eaten lunch with Zackie. "Where?" she asked. "In a shop somewhere?"
    He hesitated. Most likely it would be all right to tell her he knew where Zackie's secret garden was—after all, she knew Zackie had such a garden—but then again, maybe he shouldn't. He couldn't say yes to her question, though, or she would ask him what shop and then he would have to tell still another lie and would probably get tangled up in them before she got through questioning him. "We worked together on the track," he said at last, "and he had some sardines."
    "Sardines! That is not enough for a growing boy!"
    "Zackie had some bammies, too, Miss Lorrie," he said. "I'm not hungry. Honest."
    She frowned at him while making up her mind. "Well, all right. But if you get hungry, you say so. By the way, if you see Zackie again, you must warn him to be extra careful. Him daddy searching high and low for him."
    "I'll see him again, Miss Lorrie. I'll warn him."

SIX
     
    M r. Devon returned from the Bay a little after four o'clock and put the paybill money into what he smilingly called his "safe." This was one of a row of books he had bought by mail since becoming the owner of Kilmarnie. They were all books about coffee—how it was first found in Africa, how it was grown and processed in other parts of the world now, and how it was marketed.
    Mr. Devon had transformed one of the larger books into a secret hiding place by hollowing out its pages