Scoundrels

or another, he was bound to end up under suspicion and in a good deal of trouble.

Eungchil set aside his thoughts of pine mushrooms and began to think in earnest about what to do. He considered a number of fellows who would make plausible suspects, but he had no proof to finger any of them. It could be either Jaeseong or Seongpal, he thought, but in the end Eungchil would probably only be able to convince himself of that.

He was caught between a rock and a hard place.

▪ Eungchil knew that he had guessed right, and he glared into Seongpal's eyes, ready to start a commotion at any moment.

Seongpal was chattering excitedly but stopped dead in Eungchil's glare and fell silent. His face ashen, he straightened up and looked straight at Eungchil. “Say, why are you so angry? I just happened to see it as I passed by, and I was just letting you know . . .” Yet he trailed off, unable to finish.

“Angry? Who's angry?!” Eungchil had been leaning back, but at this he shot forward. “So you're saying you went to Eung Hill yesterday?”

“I had gone for a stroll and was on my way back when I just happened . . .”

“A stroll? Is that the sort of place for a stroll?”

“Say, do you have to ask me about every little thing? If I can go to Seoul, why shouldn't I be able to go to Eung Hill?” Seongpal let out a long, frustrated breath through his nose.

With answers like these, there was no need to ask him any more questions.

Seongpal was no ordinary fellow; he had stolen a pot or something from the village head once and spent time in prison. Eungchil didn't know him all that well, but his reputation in the village was such that people believed hanging around with him would lead you to a bad end. Eungchil realized that he, too, had become a victim of one of his schemes.

“Well, of course there’s no reason you can’t go to a place like Eung Hill,” he said with a barb in his voice. “But as you know . . . well, if there were a road there or people lived nearby that would be one thing, but what person in their right mind would go to Eung Hill for a stroll? Of course, you were just bored, I suppose . . .”

Eungchil put the squeeze on him.

Seongpal did not reply, but just stood there staring blankly at Eungchil. He was lost in thought for some time, until, at last, he took a pack of Maple Leaf cigarettes out of his pocket. He first put one in his mouth and then pulled out another and handed it to Eungchil, trying to look trustworthy. “Here, have a cigarette.”

This fellow Seongpal was quite sly and calculating. Eungchil didn't think he was the sort of fellow to try to buy someone’s favor with a measly cigarette, but to refuse him would make Eungchil look bad.

That would be playing into Seongpal's hands, so Eungchil teased him a bit, saying, “Ah, what's this cigarette for?” Then, deliberately asking him for a light: “Oh, do you have a match?”

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