I　went　straight　to　her　house。　　I　seemed　to　float　rather　than　walk；　I　　hardly　felt　the　ground　under　my　feet；　I　thought　pernicious　fever　must　　be　a　great　boon　to　make　one　feel　so　strong。
  I　found　Chloe　and　Louis　Devoe　sitting　under　the　awning　in　front　of　the　　house。　　She　jumped　up　and　met　me　with　a　double　handshake。
  〃I'm　glad；　glad；　glad　to　see　you　out　again！〃　she　cried；　every　word　a　　pearl　strung　on　the　string　of　her　sentence。　　〃You　are　well；　Tommyor　　better；　of　course。　　I　wanted　to　come　to　see　you；　but　they　wouldn't　let　　me。
  〃Oh　yes；〃　said　I；　carelessly；　〃it　was　nothing。　　Merely　a　little　fever。　　　I　am　out　again；　as　you　see。〃
  We　three　sat　there　and　talked　for　half　an　hour　or　so。　　Then　Chloe　　looked　out　yearningly　and　almost　piteously　across　the　ocean。　　I　could　　see　in　her　sea…blue　eyes　some　deep　and　intense　desire。　　Devoe；　curse　　him！　saw　it　too。
  〃What　is　it？〃　we　asked；　in　unison。
  〃Cocoanut…pudding；〃　said　Chloe；　pathetically。　　〃I've　wanted　someoh；　　so　badly；　for　two　days。　　It's　got　beyond　a　wish；　it's　an　obsession。
  〃The　cocoanut　season　is　over；〃　said　Devoe；　in　that　voice　of　his　that　　gave　thrilling　interest　to　his　most　commonplace　words。　　〃I　hardly　　think　one　could　be　found　in　Mojada。　　The　natives　never　use　them　except　　when　they　are　green　and　the　milk　is　fresh。　　They　sell　all　the　ripe　　ones　to　the　fruiterers。〃
  〃Wouldn't　a　broiled　lobster　or　a　Welsh　rabbit　do　as　well？〃　I　remarked；　　with　the　engaging　idiocy　of　a　pernicious…fever　convalescent。
  Chloe　came　as　near　to　pouting　as　a　sweet　disposition　and　a　perfect　　profile　would　allow　her　to　come。
  The　Reverend　Homer　poked　his　ermine…lined　face　through　the　doorway　and　　added　a　concordance　to　the　conversation。
  〃Sometimes；〃　said　he；　〃old　Campos　keeps　the　dried　nuts　in　his　little　　store　on　the　hill。　　But　it　would　be　far　better；　my　daughter；　to　　restrain　unusual　desires；　and　partake　thankfully　of　the　daily　dishes　　that　the　Lord　has　set　before　us。〃
  〃Stuff！〃　said　I。
  〃How　was　that？〃　asked　the　Reverend　Homer；　sharply。
  〃I　say　it's　tough；〃　said　I；　〃to　drop　into　the　vernacular；　that　Miss　　Greene　should　be　deprived　of　the　food　she　desires…a　simple　thing　like　　kalsomine…pudding。　　Perhaps；〃　I　continued；　solicitously；　〃some　pickled　　walnuts　or　a　fricassee　of　Hungarian　butternuts　would　do　as　well。〃
  Every　one　looked　at　me　with　a　slight　exhibition　of　curiosity。
  Louis　Devoe　arose　and　made　his　adieus。　　I　watched　him　until　he　had　　sauntered　slowly　and　grandiosely　to　the　corner；　around　which　he　turned　　to　reach　his　great　warehouse　and　store。　　Chloe　made　her　excuses；　and　　went　inside　for　a　few　minutes　to　attend　to　some　detail　affecting　the　　seven…o'clock　dinner。　　She　was　a　passed　mistress　in　housekeeping。　　I　　had　tasted　her　puddings　and　bread　with　beatitude。
  When　all　had　gone；　I　turned　casually　and　saw　a　basket　made　of　plaited　　green　withes　hanging　by　a　nail　outside　the　door…jamb。　　With　a　rush　　that　made　my　hot　temples　throb　there　came　vividly　to　my　mind　　recollections　of　the　head…huntersthose　grim；　flinty；　relentless　　little　men；　never　seen；　but　chilling　the　warmest　noonday　by　the　subtle　　terror　of　their　concealed　presence。　　。　　。　　。　　From　time　to　time；　as　　vanity　or　ennui　or　love　or　jealousy　or　ambition　may　move　him；　one　　creeps　forth　with　his　snickersnee　and　takes　up　the　silent　trail。　　。　　。　　　。　　Back　he　comes；　triumphant；　bearing　the　severed；　gory　head　of　his　　victim　。　　。　　。　　His　particular　brown　or　white　maid　lingers；　with　　fluttering　bosom；　casting　soft　tiger's　eyes　at　the　evidence　of　his　　love　for　her。
  I　stole　softly　from　the　house　and　returned　to　my　hut。　　From　its　　supporting　nails　in　the　wall　I　took　a　machete　as　heavy　as　a　butcher's　　cleaver　and　sharper　than　a　safety…razor。　　And　then　I　chuckled　softly　　to　myself；　and　set　out　to　the　fastidiously　appointed　private　office　of　　Monsieur　Louis　Devoe；　usurper　to　the　hand　of　the　Pearl　of　the　Pacific。
  He　was　never　slow　at　thinking；　he　gave　one　look　at　my　face　and　another　　at　the　weapon　in　my　hand　as　I　entered　his　door；　and　then　he　seemed　to　　fade　from　my　sight。　　I　ran　to　the　back　door；　kicked　it　open；　and　saw　　him　running　like　a　deer　up　the　road　toward　the　wood　that　began　two　　hundred　yards　away。　　I　was　after　him；　with　a　shout。　　I　remember　　hearing　children　and　women　screaming；　and　seeing　them　flying　from　the　　road。
  He　was　fleet；　but　I　was　stronger。　　A　mile；　and　I　had　almost　come　up　　with　him。　　He　doubled　cunningly　and　dashed　into　a　brake　that　extended　　into　a　small　canon。　　I　crashed　through　this　after　him；　and　in　five　　minutes　had　him　cornered　in　an　angle　of　insurmountable　cliffs。　　There　　his　instinct　of　self…preservation　steadied　him；　as　it　will　steady　even　　animals　at　bay。　　He　turned　to　me；　quite　calm；　with　a　ghastly　smile。
  〃Oh；　Rayburn！〃　he　said；　with　such　an　awful　effort　at　ease　that　I　was　　impolite　enough　to　laugh　rudely　in　his　face。　　〃Oh；　Rayburn！〃　said　he；　　〃come；　let's　have　done　with　this　nonsense。　　Of　course；　I　know　it's　the　　fever　and　you're　not　yourself；　but　collect　yourself；　man…give　me　that　　ridiculous　weapon；　now；　and　let's　go　back　and　talk　it　over。〃
  〃I　will　go　back；〃　said　I；　〃carrying　your　head　with　me。　　We　will　see　　how　charmingly　it　can　discourse　when　it　lies　in　the　basket　at　her　　door。〃
  〃Come；〃　said　he；　persuasively；　〃I　think　better　of　you　than　to　suppose　　that　you　try　this　sort　of　thing　as　a　joke。　　But　even　the　vagaries　of　a　　fever…crazed　lunatic　come　some　time　to　a　limit。　　What　is　this　talk　　about　heads　and　baskets？　　Get　yourself　together　and　throw　away　that　　absurd　cane…chopper。　　What　would　Miss　Greene　think　of　you？〃　he　ended；　　with　the　silky　cajolery　that　one　would　use　toward　a　fretful　child。
  〃Listen；〃　said　I。　　〃At　last　you　have　struck　upon　the　right　note。　　What　　would　she　think　of　me？　Listen；〃　I　repeated。
  〃There　are　women；〃　I　said；　〃who　look　upon　horsehair　sofas　and　currant　　wine　as　dross。　　To　them　even　the　calculated　modulation　of　your　well…　trimmed　talk　sounds　like　the　dropping　of　rotten　plums　from　a　tree　in　　the　night。　　They　are　the　maidens　who　walk　back　and　forth　in　the　　villages；　scorning　the　emptiness　of　the　baskets　at　the　doors　of　the　　young　men　who　would　win　them。
  One　such　as　they；〃　I　said；　〃is　waiting。　　Only　a　fool　would　try　to　win　　a　woman　by　drooling　like　a　braggart　in　her　doorway　or　by　waiting　upon　　her　whims　like　a　footman。　　They　are　all　daughters　of　Herodias；　and　to　　gain　their　hearts　one　must　lay　the　heads　of　his　enemies　before　them　　with　his　own　hands。　　Now；　bend　your　neck；　Louis　Devoe。　　Do　not　be　a　　coward　as　well　as　a　chatterer　at　a　lady's　tea…table。〃
  〃There；　there！〃　said　Devoe；　falteringly。　　〃You　know　me；　don't　you；　　Rayburn？〃
  〃Oh　yes；〃　I　said；　〃I　know　you。　　I　know　you。　　I　know　you。　　But　the　　basket　is　empty。　　The　old　men　of　the　village　and　the　young　men；　and　　both　the　dark　maidens　and　the　ones　who　are　as　fair　as　pearls　walk　back　　and　forth　and　see　its　emptiness。　　Will　you　kneel　now；　or　must　we　have　　a　scuffle？　　It　is　not　like　you　to　make　things　go　roughly　and　with　bad　　form。　　But　the　basket　is　waiting　for　your　head。〃
  With　that　he　went　to　pieces。　　I　had　to　catch　him　as　he　tried　to　　scamper　past　me　like　a　scared　rabbit。　　I　stretched　him　out　and　got　a　　foot　on　his　chest；　but　he　squirmed　like　a　worm；　although　I　appealed　　repeatedly　to　his　sense　of　propriety　and　the　duty　he　owed　to　himself　　as　a　gentleman　not　to　make　a　row。
  But　at　last　he　gave　me　the　chance；　and　I　swung　the　machete。
  It　was　not　hard　work。　　He　flopped　like　a　chicken　during　the　six　or　　seven　blows　that　it　took　to　sever　his　head；　but　finally　he　lay　still；　　and　I　tied　his　head　in　my　handkerchief。　　The　eyes　opened　and　shut　　thrice　while　I　walked　a　hundred　yards。　　I　was　red　to　my　feet　with　the　　drip；　but　what　did　that　matter？　　With　delight　I　felt　under　my　hands　　the　crisp　touch　of　his　short；　thick；　brown　hair　and　close…trimmed　　beard。
  I　reached　the　house　of　the　Greenes　and　dumped　the　head　of　Louis　Devoe　　into　the　basket　that　still　hung　by　the　nail　in　the　door…jamb。　　I　sat　　in　a　chair　under　the　awning　and　waited。　　The　sun　was　within　two　hours　　of　setting。　　Chloe　came　out　and　looked　surprised。
  〃Where　have　you　been；　Tommy？〃　she　asked。　　〃You　were　gone　when　I　came　　out。〃
  〃Look　in　the　basket；〃　I　said；　rising　to　my　feet。　　She　looked；　and　gave　　a　little　screamof　delight；　I　was　pleased　to　note。
  〃Oh；　Tommy！〃　she　said。　　〃It　was　just　what　I　wanted　you　to　do。　　It's　　leaking　a　little；　but　that　doesn't　matter。　　Wasn't　I　telling　you？　　　It's　the　little　things　that　count。　　And　you　remembered。〃
  Little　things！　　She　held　the　ensanguined　head　of　Louis　Devoe　in　her　　white　apron。　　Tiny　streams　of　red　widened　on　her　apron　and　dripped　　upon　the　floor。　　Her　face　was　bright　and　tender。
  〃Little　things；　indeed！〃　I　thought　again。　　〃The　head…hunters　are　　right。　　These　are　the　things　that　women　like　you　to　do　for　them。〃
  Chloe　came　close　to　me。　　There　was　no　one　in　sight。　　She　looked　tip　at　　me　with　sea…blue　eyes　that　said　things　they　had　never　said　before。
  〃You　think　of　me；〃　she　said。　　〃You　are　the　man　I　was　describing。　　You　　think　of　the　little　things；　and　they　are　what　make　the　world　worth　　living　in。　　The　man　for　me　must　consider　my　little　wishes；　and　make　me　　happy　in　small　ways。　　He　must　bring　me　little　red　peaches　in　December　　if　I　wish　for　them；　and　then　I　will　love　him　till　June。　　I