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Updated: June 28, 2025
"I love you," repeated Roger doggedly. A low chuckle in the jungle startled them. "Ah, youth, youth, youth!" Garman's huge face was peering at them from behind a mask of flowering moon vine. "'I love you. Ho ho! Poor Payne!" "You cad, Garman; you mucker!" cried Roger. "Go!" Annette flung herself upon him, seeking to push him away, but he stood like an oak. "Eavesdropping! Fine work, Garman."
One of Garman's large cigars, lighted and thrown away after a few puffs, lay on the verandah. The place inside was a wreck. Broken furniture, shattered glass, torn curtains and bedding, lay about in aimless disorder, as if some wild animal had run amuck there tearing and trampling to pieces all it touched. Windows and frames had been smashed with terrific blows.
In no other way was his failure to return to be explained. And Roger had been lying there in the dirt, waiting like a fool, while Garman was taking measures to get her in his power again! The dugout lay in the big ditch close to its junction with the river; and the river ran down to Garman's house. Roger stepped into the craft and shoved off.
Madame Rasmussen sat down to embroider some cushions to put in the window, for the chaplain could not bear the slightest draught. Consul Garman's death caused a great sensation in the town. The wonderful escape of the ship was already material enough for several weeks' gossip; and now there came this death, with all its immediate circumstances and possible consequences.
A soft, misty pall of midsummer heat hung over and pervaded the vine-covered forest of wild-apple trees surrounding Garman's house when Payne set out on Sunday afternoon to keep his appointment.
So far as his own entity was concerned the mental picture of himself as Garman's victim did not disturb him greatly; he had lost all that man may hope for in life; no fear came into his heart as he realized how much Garman was his physical superior.
"But Garman's bill was framed by Ned Merrill. It doesn't give us anything." Rawson nodded grimly. "That's the idea. We're to get nothing, but it's to be wrapped up like a Christmas present so as to fool us." "And isn't there any chance at all for our bill?" "Just this one chance." Rawson leaned forward and spoke in a low voice, driving his hand down on the deck railing.
Oh, heavens! what have I done?" she murmured, holding her hand before her eyes. A bland smile passed over his face as he took her arm in his. "You are still a little discomposed, child, but it will soon pass away." He then led her to Mrs. Garman's room. "Could not we wait till to-morrow? My head is so painful," entreated Madeleine.
Garman wheeled his horse and loped away without another word. Payne was not greatly concerned one way or another with Garman's apparent change of heart toward his enterprise. He had no intention of asking or receiving favors. All he asked was that Garman keep his hands off. The rest of the week saw the line fence completed and a good slice of the elderberry jungle cleared away and burned.
Roger leaped into the dugout and paddled down the river toward Garman's house. The place seemed dead and deserted as he stepped onto the dock, and his heart sank with dismay. The Egret was gone. In the boathouse a young sailor was loading several huge trunks into a small launch. "Closing up for the season?" asked Roger as casually as possible. "I dunno what they're doing," grumbled the man.
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