p&c.icelimit-第28部分

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　After　a　pause；　the　official　began　to　laugh　…　a　low…throated；　mirthless　laugh。　He　turned　to　Glinn。　〃Gold？〃　he　said；　a　little　more　sharply　than　before。　〃Is　that　why　you　are　here？　To　steal　gold　from　Chile？〃
　McFarlane　glanced　at　Glinn。　To　his　great　dismay；　he　saw　a　look　of　guilt　and　naked　fear　writ　large　across　Glinn's　face；　enough　to　arouse　suspicion　in　even　the　dullest　official。
　〃We　are　here　to　mine　iron　ore；〃　Glinn　said；　in　a　singularly　unconvincing　way。
　〃I　must　inform　you　that　a　gold　mining　bond　will　be　much　more　expensive；〃　said　the　official。
　〃But　we　are　here　to　mine　iron　ore。〃
　〃e；　e；〃　said　the　official。　〃Let　us　speak　frankly　to　each　other　and　not　create　unnecessary　trouble。　This　story　of　iron。。。〃　He　smiled　knowingly。
　There　was　a　long；　expectant　silence。　Then　Glinn　broke　it　with　another　cough。　〃Under　the　circumstances；　perhaps　a　royalty　might　be　in　order。　Provided　that　all　paperwork　is　taken　care　of　expeditiously。〃
　The　official　waited。　Again　Glinn　opened　the　briefcase。　He　removed　the　papers　and　placed　them　in　his　pocket。　Then　he　ran　his　hands　across　the　base　of　the　now…empty　briefcase；　as　if　searching　for　something。　There　was　a　muffled　click　and　a　false　bottom　sprang　loose。　A　yellow　radiance　emerged；　reflecting　off　the　official's　surprised　face。
　〃Madre　de　dios；〃　the　man　whispered。
　〃This　is　for　you　…　and　your　associates　…　now；〃　said　Glinn。　〃On　our　disembarkation；　when　we　clear　customs　…　if　all　has　gone　well　…　you　will　receive　twice　that　amount。　Of　course；　if　false　rumors　of　a　gold　strike　on　Isla　Desolacion　get　back　to　Punta　Arenas；　or　if　we　receive　unwele　visitors；　we　won't　be　able　to　plete　our　mining　operation。　You　will　receive　nothing　more。〃　He　sneezed　unexpectedly；　spraying　the　back　of　the　case　with　saliva。
　The　official　hastily　shut　it。　〃Yes；　yes。　Everything　will　be　taken　care　of。〃
　The　Chilean　andante　responded　savagely。　〃Look　at　the　lot　of　you；　like　dogs　sniffing　around　a　bitch　in　heat。〃
　The　two　officials　rose　from　the　bench　and　approached　him；　murmuring　urgently　and　gesturing　toward　the　briefcase。　But　the　andante　broke　free。　〃I　am　ashamed　to　be　in　the　same　room。　You　would　sell　your　own　mothers。〃
　The　customs　official　turned　in　his　seat　and　stared　behind　him。　〃I　think　you　had　better　return　to　your　vessel；　andante　Vallenar；〃　he　said　icily。
　The　uniformed　man　glared　at　each　person　in　the　room　in　turn。　Then；　erect　and　silent；　he　walked　around　the　table　and　out　the　door；　leaving　it　to　bang　in　the　wind。
　〃What　of　him？〃　Glinn　asked。
　〃You　must　forgive　andante　Vallenar；〃　the　official　said；　reaching　into　another　drawer　and　pulling　out　some　papers　and　an　official　stamp。　He　inked　the　stamp；　then　quickly　impressed　the　papers；　seemingly　anxious　to　have　the　visitors　gone。　〃He　is　an　idealist　in　a　land　of　pragmatists。　But　he　is　nothing。　There　will　be　no　rumors；　no　interruption　of　your　work。　You　have　my　word。〃　He　handed　the　papers　and　the　passports　back　across　the　desk。
　Glinn　took　them　and　turned　to　go；　then　hesitated。　〃One　other　thing。　We　have　hired　a　man　named　John　Puppup。　Do　you　have　any　idea　where　we　might　find　him？〃
　〃Puppup？〃　The　official　was　clearly　startled。　〃That　old　man？　Whatever　for？〃
　〃It　was　represented　to　us　that　he　has　an　intimate　knowledge　of　the　Cape　Horn　islands。〃
　〃I　cannot　imagine　who　told　you　such　a　thing。　Unfortunately　for　you；　he　received　money　from　somewhere　a　few　days　ago。　And　that　means　only　one　thing。　I　would　try　El　Picoroco　first。　On　Callejon　Barranca。〃　The　official　rose；　flashing　his　gilded　smile。　〃I　wish　you　luck　finding　iron　on　Isla　Desolacion。〃
　
　Puerto　Williams；
　11：45　A。M。
　
　LEAVING　THE　customs　office；　they　turned　inland　and　began　climbing　the　hill　toward　the　Barrio　de　los　Indios。　The　graded　dirt　road　quickly　gave　way　to　a　mixture　of　snow　and　icy　mud。　Wooden　corduroys　had　been　placed　stairwise　along　the　makeshift　track　to　hold　back　erosion。　The　small　houses　lining　the　path　were　a　ragtag　assortment　made　with　unmatched　lumber；　surrounded　by　crude　wooden　fences。　A　group　of　children　followed　the　strangers；　giggling　and　pointing。　A　donkey　carrying　an　enormous　faggot　of　wood　passed　them　on　the　way　downhill；　almost　jostling　McFarlane　into　a　puddle。　He　regained　his　balance　with　a　backward　curse。
　〃Exactly　how　much　of　that　little　dog…and…pony　show　was　planned？〃　he　asked　Glinn　in　a　low　tone。
　〃All　except　for　andante　Vallenar。　And　your　little　outburst。　Unscripted；　but　successful。〃
　〃Successful？　Now　they　think　we're　illegally　mining　gold。　I　would　call　it　a　disaster。〃
　Glinn　smiled　indulgently。　〃It　couldn't　have　gone　better。　If　they　gave　it　some　thought；　they　would　never　believe　that　an　American　pany　would　send　an　ore　carrier　to　the　ends　of　the　earth　to　mine　iron。　andante　Vallenar's　flare…up　was　well　timed。　It　saved　me　from　having　to　plant　the　idea　in　their　heads　myself。〃
　McFarlane　shook　his　head。　〃Think　of　the　rumors　it　will　start。〃
　〃There　already　are　rumors。　The　amount　of　gold　we　gave　them　will　shut　them　up　for　life。　Now　our　good　customs　people　are　going　to　scotch　those　rumors　and　order　the　island　out　of　bounds。　They're　much　more　suited　for　the　job　than　we　are。　And　they　have　excellent　incentive　to　do　it。〃
　〃What　about　that　andante？〃　asked　Britton。　〃He　didn't　look　like　he　was　getting　with　the　program。〃
　〃Not　everyone　can　be　bribed。　Fortunately；　he　has　no　power　or　credibility。　The　only　naval　officers　who　end　up　down　here　are　the　ones　that　have　been　convicted　of　crimes　or　disgraced　in　one　way　or　another。　Those　customs　officials　will　be　extremely　anxious　to　keep　him　in　line。　That　will　undoubtedly　mean　a　payoff　to　the　manding　officer　of　the　naval　base。　We　gave　those　officials　more　than　enough　to　go　around。〃　Glinn　pursed　his　lips。　〃Still；　we　should　learn　a　little　more　about　this　andante　Vallenar。〃
　They　stepped　over　a　runnel　of　soapy　water　as　the　grade　lessened。　Glinn　asked　directions　of　a　passerby；　and　they　turned　off　into　a　narrow　side　street。　A　dirty　noon　mist　was　settling　on　the　village；　and　along　with　it　came　a　hard　freezing　of　the　damp　air。　A　dead　mastiff　lay　swollen　in　the　gutter。　McFarlane　breathed　in　the　smell　of　fish　and　raw　earth；　noticed　the　flimsy　wooden　tienda　advertising　Fanta　and　local　beers；　and　was　irresistibly　brought　back　five　years　in　time。　After　twice　trying　unsuccessfully　to　cross　into　Argentina；　burdened　by　the　Atacama　tektites；　he　and　Nestor　Masangkay　had　ended　up　crossing　into　Bolivia　near　the　town　of　Ancuaque：　so　unlike　this　town　in　appearance；　and　yet　so　like　it　in　spirit。
　Glinn　came　to　a　halt。　At　the　end　of　the　alley　before　them　was　a　sagging；　red…shingled　building。　A　blue　bulb　blinked　above　a　sign　that　read　EL　PICOROCO。　CERVEZA　MAS　FINA。　From　an　open　door　beneath；　the　faint　throb　of　ranchera　music　spilled　into　the　street。
　〃I　think　I'm　beginning　to　understand　some　of　your　methods；〃　said　McFarlane。　〃What　was　that　the　customs　man　said　about　somebody　sending　Puppup　money？　Was　that　you；　by　any　chance？〃
　Glinn　inclined　his　head　but　did　not　speak。
　〃I　think　I'll　wait　out　here；〃　said　Britton。
　McFarlane　followed　Glinn　past　the　door　and　into　a　dim　space。　He　saw　a　scuffed　bar　made　out　of　deal；　several　wooden　tables　covered　with　bottle　rings；　and　an　English　dartboard；　its　wire　numbers　blackened　with　tar　and　soot。　The　smoke…laden　air　tasted　as　if　it　had　hung　there　for　years。　The　bartender　straightened　up　as　they　walked　in；　and　the　level　of　conversation　dropped　as　the　few　patrons　turned　to　stare　at　the　newers。
　Glinn　sidled　up　the　bar　and　ordered　two　beers。　The　bartender　brought　them　over；　warm　and　dripping　with　foam。　〃We　are　looking　for　Senor　Puppup；〃　said　Glinn。
　〃Puppup？〃　The　bartender　broke　into　a　broad；　scant…toothed　grin。　〃He　is　in　the　back。〃
　They　followed　the　man　through　a　beaded　curtain；　into　a　little　snug　with　a　private　table　and　an　empty　bottle　of　Dewar's。　Stretched　out　on　a　bench　along　the　wall　was　a　skinny　old　man　in　indescribably　dirty　clothes。　A　pair　of　wispy　Fu　Manchu…style　mustaches　drooped　from　his　upper　lip。　A　thrumcap　that　looked　like　it　had　been　sewn　together　from　bits　of　old　rags　had　slid　from　his　head　to　the　bench。　〃Sleeping　or　drunk？〃　asked　Glinn。
　The　bartender　roared　with　laughter。　〃Both。〃
　〃When　will　he　be　sober？〃
　The　man　leaned　down；　rummaged　through　Puppup's　pockets；　and　pul