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And this Davis sends us serious word that we're to keep away from Garman's men. Whatever happens we mustn't get into a fight. We've got to stick right in camp and play safe, or we'll spoil two years' work for Uncle Sam. The first dark night to-morrow night probably it will be over, whatever it is, and Davis will come here and explain.
For a moment the pair had held motionless, Garman's bulk and might held for the instant by Roger's impetuous rush, but now the Plunderer's strength was telling and he was slowly thrusting his victim back. As he retreated before the irresistible strength that was dominating him, Roger was winning a battle with himself.
Garman's bunch had 'em trapped on an island down in the swamp, but Willy happened to know an Injun way out and they slipped the noose. Willy came crawling in here last night. He's got a tear from a forty-four along his hip and the white man sent him to us to get it doctored up and keep him hidden.
Livingstone till she rode away, helpless, outraged. But Annette had outfaced him, and Garman knew it! "Something has happened!" Roger recalled Garman's words, and a thrill shot along his spine. Garman did not dominate Annette; he did not hold her helpless by his hypnotic presence as formerly. Something had happened.
Garman, Garman, what did I tell you what did I tell you? I knew Annette never would leave you of her own free will!" "You impudent squirt!" said Garman, "You mean to tell me you No, you wouldn't be man enough to steal her. Who brought her to you?" Again Roger debated. "If you come and get her as you threaten to do, you may find out." Garman's rage was ghastly to behold.
First it was reflected from Mrs. Garman's black silk, and then shed a faint halo around Pastor Martens's blond head. The rays fell on those of the company who were sitting with their backs to the light, and, casting their shadows over the white cloth, sparkled in the polished decanters. Morten held up his glass to the light, and enjoyed its brilliancy.
Anger flamed in him anew, the anger of the fair fighter at a treacherous trick, and at the sight of the change in him Garman permitted himself a little smile, and Roger again forced himself to grow calm. He retreated, striking, ducking, side-stepping, he circled the clearing. Once his foot slipped on the barrel of Garman's rifle, and he kicked it to one side.
"Look out! Want to run us down?" A full-throated laugh rang out from the Egret's bridge as her course was changed slightly and her engines throttled down. On the bridge beside the searchlight Roger saw Garman's huge figure looming. "Ho, Payne!" came a hail. "Didn't see anything of the we're after, did you?" "Not to recognize by that description," replied Roger.
"Do you know where it is?" asked Roger. It was night, and he had called Willy High Pockets away from the camp to ask him the question. The time intervening from the receipt of the note at Garman's and the present had been like a nightmare. He had wandered in the jungle and laughed aloud at himself for a sentimental fool.
His manner indicated complete confidence in his ability to settle the problem as he saw fit, betraying how completely he felt himself the master. Payne controlled his own irritation at the other's attitude of superiority and sat down. Apparently unconscious of Garman's presence on the other side of the fire he sampled a strip of broiled venison, found it good and began to eat.
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