“Maybe he ain’t well,” Bogle said, looking at the dog with puzzled eyes.”
“With Pablo inside him, I don’t wonder at it.”
Whisky rolled over on his side and looked at me. There was something strangely human about the expression in his eyes. “How right you are, old dog,” he said in a deep, guttural voice. “He lies like a rock on my stomach.”
“There you are,” I said to Sam. “I knew he couldn’t be well.” Then I clutched my pillow and looked at the dog in horror.
Myra stifled a scream and stood petrified, but Bogle didn’t seem to be moved.
“You know it sounded almost as if that dog spoke,” I said a little feverishly.
“Sure,” Sam returned. “What of it? He’s been talking to me half the night.”
“What of it?” I repeated, stupefied. “Have you ever heard a dog talk before?”
“Well, no, but then anything can happen in this country, can’t it? What I mean is if a parrot talks, why not a Mexican dog? “That’s the way I’ve been reasoning.” He suddenly noticed my strained expression and fear came into his eyes. “It ain’t possible? Dawgs don’t talk? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? This is another of these freak things… floating women… disappearing men… now talking dawgs?”
“Yeah, along those lines.”
“My Gawd! And I talked to it half the night!” Bogle shivered edging back in his chair and half raising his hand to protect himself.
“And a lot of rot you talked too,” the dog snapped. “Of all the illiterate, prissy-mouthed, dyed-in-the-wool nincompoops I’ve had to listen to, you take the biscuit.”
Myra said in a low voice, “I think I’ll go now. Somehow, I don’t feel like breakfast.”
“For goodness sake stay where you are,” Whisky said peevishly “There’s so much yapping in this hotel, I’m leading a dog’s life.”
“It wouldn’t be someone practising ventriloquism, I suppose?” I asked hopefully, feeling that any second I’d have to run out into the desert and keep running for some time. “Someone wouldn’t be trying to make fools of us?”
Whisky yawned. He had the most astonishing collection of fangs I’d ever seen. “To improve on your mothers’ efforts would be a difficult task,” he observed. “Just because I happen to talk your horrible language, there’s no need for you to behave like dolts.”
“Look, old fellow,” I said nervously. “Would you mind going away? It’s not that I don’t like you, but I’ve had all I can stand for one morning. Come back later on, will you? Maybe I’ll be adjusted to the idea by then.”
Whisky shook himself. “As a matter of fact I have something rather important to do,” he said, getting to his feet. “And besides, it’s time for my own breakfast.” He walked to the verandah door, his nails clicking on the polished floor. “I’ve got to see a dog about a man, if you’ll pardon the cliche,” and he strolled out on to the verandah and then disappeared out of sight.
There was a long silence while we endeavoured to recover.
“Like a nightmare, isn’t it?” I said, at last. “Maybe we’ll wake up and have a good laugh over this in a little while.”
“Naw,” Bogle said, mopping his face with his handkerchief, “I wouldn’t laugh at it even if it was a dream.”
“I’d rather have a disappearing man and a floating woman to a talking dog,” I said reflectively. “Do you think if we packed our bags and skipped, we’d be able to shake him off?”
“That dawg wants to stay with us,” Bogle said gloomily. “Anyway, that’s what he said last night.”
“Then I think you had better take him away and leave us to mourn for you,” Myra put in. “I don’t see why we should all be driven mad.”
Doc Ansell came in. He was looking a little tired, but there was a light of battle in his eye.
“There you are,” he said.
“Breakfast is on its way up. I want to talk to you all this morning. We’ve got to make plans.”
“Have you heard about the dog?” I asked.
Ansell sat down. “What dog?”
“The dog that ate Pablo,” I said. “He’s befriended Samuel.”
“Well, that’s all right,” Ansell looked at me sharply. “There’s nothing like a good dog to keep one company. You don’t object I hope?”
“No, no, nothing like that. But the dog talks. He’s just been in. He even makes little jokes like going to see a dog about a man. Whimsy stuff and he clicks his teeth.”
Ansell looked at me closely. “Talks,” he said. “What do you mean… talks??”
“Just that,” I returned, stretching out and making myself comfortable. “I thought you might have an explanation. I wish you could have heard him. At the moment, I’m suffering from general collapse.”
“I see,” Ansell said thoughtfully. “Well, maybe I will hear him. Actually, of course, I’m not at all surprised. I’ve been thinking things over and I’ve come to the conclusion that we mustn’t be surprised at whatever happens. You see Myra has now the full powers of Nagualism concentrated around her. It is likely to set off the most unlikely things.”
I smiled, “Oh, so Myra’s at the bottom of it, is she?”
“Why, certainly,” Doc returned. “None of you would believe me when I told you about the powers of the Naguales, you’re seeing for yourselves. The great thing, of course , is to try to control it. That’s really what I want to talk to Myra about.”
The little Mexican girl came in with a tray and put it on the table by my bed. It was quite a relief to see someone who looked completely normal and who hadn’t fear lurking in her eye.
When she had gone, and Myra had poured out the coffee, Ansell picked up his threads.
“Now look, young woman, I am perfectly convinced that you have unlimited powers. It’s no use your trying not to believe this. You’ve got to face it. Rather than let those powers control you, you’ve got to try to control them. I know a little about this business. I’ve studied it and I know that you can’t do things unless you’re in the right frame of mind. For instance, as you are now, relaxed and worried, you’ll never be able to evoke the powers. But, last night, when those bandits arrived you were frightened and without knowing it, you were in the right atmosphere to perform. There are no limits to what you can do. I don’t think you ought to waste your talents.”
Myra put down her coffee cup with sudden determination. “All I want is to get back to my normal life. And more than anything, I want to have some peace and quiet.”
Ansell sighed, “Disappointing,” he said, half to himself. “You don’t seem to realize that with your powers you could become mistress of the world. Haven’t you any ambition?”
“Not that kind of ambition, thank you,” Myra said shortly. “It’s no use talking. I’m just not going to do anything about it.”
“I think she’s right,” I said. “The whole thing doesn’t bear thinking about. How long are these powers likely to last?”
Ansell scratched his ear thoughtfully, “I’m not quite sure,” he said. “The Naguales used to begin their rituals at the beginning of the full moon. It may be that the power is influenced by the moon. If that’s so, she’s got to the end of the month before she returns to normal. Why not make hay until then? It’s not long. She’ll never be able to regain the power now that Quintl’s dead.”
“And a good thing too,” Myra said firmly. “I’m going to be very careful of how I act for the next few weeks. If I can get through that time without anything more happening, I’m g to be quite contented.”
I threw up his hands in disgust. “What about my snake-bite remedy?” he demanded. “Am I to get nothing out of this?”
“I’m sorry, Doc,” Myra returned, “but I don’t want anything more to do with this business. It’s all very well for you, but…”
“Can’t you do something?” Ansell appealed to me.
I was already racking my brains, “I don’t think so,” I said at last. “You see, she ain’t interested in the reward any more.”
“What?” Bogle said, sitting up. “What about us? Ain’t we considered?”
“That’s up to you, Myra,” I said, looking over at her. “Don’t you see we can’t claim the reward?” she said. “We’re not entitled to it.”
