ide. I'm on the west; the Gulf
side, between the Batavia River and Duyfhen Point."

Lacey looked admiringly at the well-knit figure and handsome, tanned
face of his visitor. "Well, the climate up there can't be as bad as it
is painted. I never saw a man look better than you do."

"Oh! the climate doesn't hurt me now. I've had my share of fever
of course; so has everyone on Ocho Rios. The niggers are our chief
trouble."

"Ah! no doubt. By the way, Aulain, of the Black Police is down here on
sick leave. He'll be glad to see you."

"And I him. He's a fine fellow, isn't he?"

"A whiter man--or a better gentleman--never put foot in a stirrup. I've
got to like him very much. And he thinks no end of you. Says you're the
best scrub rider he ever saw."

Gerrard laughed. "'Praise from him is praise indeed.' All I can say is
that I have never seen anyone who can go through scrub or thick timber
like Randolph Aulain. Where is he staying?"

"Here--at the Queen's. He's had a terrible time with fever, and can't do
more than sit up. We'll go and see him presently."

"Oh, yes! But I want to speak to you on a matter of some importance
first. That is why I have ventured to come to your hotel. I did go to
the _Clarion_ office, but just missed you."

"I'm only too delighted to see you, even if you were not Westonley's
brother-in-law. You know that he and I were at Rugby together, and
then at Oxford? But, before I say anything else, when does your steamer
leave?"

"This afternoon at four o'clock; but I am not going on in her. I'm in
somewhat of a hole, and I felt sure you would assist me."

"Indeed I will. I'm not flush. This blessed rag of mine doesn't pay, but
I can raise a hundred from the bank here."

Gerrard laughed. "No, not that, Mr Lacey. I'm not 'broke,' and it is
not money I want. At the same time I appreciate your generosity. Ted has
often told me you would do any mortal thing for a friend in need." He
paused, and then began, "Mr Lacey----"

"Drop the 'Mr' please."

"Well, then, Lacey, I want your advice and assistance. Do you know any
decent family here who would take care of a boy of eleven years of age
for about a fortnight?"

The editor of the _Clarion_ tugged thoughtfully at his long, white
moustache for a few moments. "Yes, I think I do know of such a family.
I used to board with them when I first came to this infernal hole.
Their name is Woodfall. The father is a dairyman here, and a very decent
hard-wor