'No.'
'Why?'
Peter Marlowe shrugged. The King divided the rice carelessly and handed him the larger portion. 'Let's eat.'
'But what about you?' said Peter Marlowe, gaping at the bigger helping.
'I'm not hungry. My appetite went with the birds. Jesus, that was close. I thought we'd both had it.'
'Yes,' Peter Marlowe said, with the beginning of a smile. 'It was a lot of fun, wasn't it?'
'Huh?'
'Oh, the excitement. Haven't enjoyed anything so much in years, I suppose. The danger — excitement.'
'There are a lot of things I don't understand about you,' the King said weakly. 'You mean to say you enjoyed it?'
'Certainly — didn't you? I thought it was almost as good as flying a Spit.
You know, at the time it frightens you, but at the same time doesn't — and during and after you feel sort of lightheaded.'
'I think you're just out of your head.'
'If you weren't enjoying it then why the hell did you try to throw me with
'stud'? I bloody nearly died.'
'I didn't try to throw you. Why the hell would I want to throw you?'
'To make it more exciting and to test me.'
The King bleakly wiped his eyes and his face. 'You mean to say you think I did that deliberately?'
'Of course. I did the same to you when I passed the questioning to you.'
'Let's get this straight. You did that just to test my nerves?' the King gasped.
'Of course, old boy,' Peter Marlowe said. 'I don't understand what's the matter.'
'Jesus,' said the King, a nervous sweat beginning again. 'We're almost in the pokey and you play games!' The King paused for breath. 'Crazy, just plain crazy, and when you hesitated after I'd fed you the 'hole' clue, I thought we were dead.'
'Grey thought that too. I was just playing with him. I only finished it quickly because the eggs were getting cold. And you don't see a fried egg like that every day. My word on it.'
'I thought you said it wasn't any good.'
'I said it wasn't 'bad.'' Peter Marlowe hesitated. 'Look. Saying it's 'not bad' means that it's exceptional. That's a way of paying a chap a compliment without embarrassing him.'
'You're out of your skull! You risk my neck — and your own — to add to the danger, you blow your stack when I offer you some money with no strings attached, and you say something's 'not bad' when you mean it's great. Jesus,' he added, stupefied, 'I guess I'm simple or something.'
He glanced up and saw the perplexed look on Peter Marlowe's face and he had to laugh. Peter Marlowe began laughing too, and soon the two men were hysterical.
Max peered into the hut and the other Americans were close behind.
'What the hell's gotten into him?' Max said gaping. 'I thought by now he'd be beating his fucking head in.'
'Madonna,' gasped Dino. 'First the King nearly gets chopped, and now he's laughing with the guy who fingered him.'
'Don't make sense.' Max's stomach had been flapping ever since the warning whistle.
The King looked up and saw the men staring at him. He pulled out the remains of the pack of cigarettes. 'Here, Max. Pass these around.
Celebration!'
'Gee, thanks.' Max took the pack. 'Wow! That was a close one. We're all so happy for you.'
The King read the grins. Some were good and he marked those. Some were false and he knew those anyway. The men echoed Max's thanks.
Max herded the men outside once more and began to divide the treasure.
'It's shock,' he said quietly. 'Must be. Like shell shock. Any moment he'll be tearing the Limey's head off.' He stared off as another burst of laughter came from the hut, then shrugged.
'He's off his head — and no wonder.'
'For God's sake,' Peter Marlowe was saying, holding his stomach. 'Let's eat. If I don't soon, I won't be able to.'
So they began to eat. Between laughter spasms. Peter Marlowe regretted that the eggs were cold, but the laughter warmed the eggs and made them superb. 'They need a little salt, don't you think?' he said, trying to keep his voice flat. 'Gee, I guess so. I thought I'd used enough.' The King frowned and turned for the salt and then he saw the crinkling eyes.
'What the hell's up now?' he asked, beginning to laugh in spite of himself.
'That was a joke, for God's sake. You Americans don't have much of a sense of humor, do you?'
'Go to hell! And for Chrissake stop laughing!'
