t home in
the clubs of London and the Continent, the Grand Hotel at Yokohama, and
the selector's shanties in the Never-Never country. He had shot big game
in Siam, pearled in the Paumotus, visited Tolstoy, seen the Passion Play,
and crossed the Andes on mule-back; while he was a living directory of
the fever holes of West Africa.

Sheldon leaned back in his chair on the veranda, sipping his coffee and
listening. In spite of himself he felt touched by the charm of the man
who had led so varied a life. And yet Sheldon was not comfortable. It
seemed to him that the man addressed himself particularly to Joan. His
words and smiles were directed impartially toward both of them, yet
Sheldon was certain, had the two men of them been alone, that the
conversation would have been along different lines. Tudor had seen the
effect on Joan and deliberately continued the flow of reminiscence,
netting her in the glamour of romance. Sheldon watched her rapt
attention, listened to her spontaneous laughter, quick questions, and
passing judgments, and felt grow within him the dawning consciousness
that he loved her.

So he was very quiet and almost sad, though at times he was aware of a
distinct irritation against his guest, and he even speculated as to what
percentage of Tudor's tale was true and how any of it could be proved or
disproved. In this connection, as if the scene had been prepared by a
clever playwright, Utami came upon the veranda to report to Joan the
capture of a crocodile in the trap they had made for her.

Tudor's face, illuminated by the match with which he was lighting his
cigarette, caught Utami's eye, and Utami forgot to report to his
mistress.

"Hello, Tudor," he said, with a familiarity that startled Sheldon.

The Polynesian's hand went out, and Tudor, shaking it, was staring into
his face.

"Who is it?" he asked. "I can't see you."

"Utami."

"And who the dickens is Utami? Where did I ever meet you, my man?"

"You no forget the _Huahine_?" Utami chided. "Last time _Huahine_ sail?"

Tudor gripped the Tahitian's hand a second time and shook it with genuine
heartiness.

"There was only one kanaka who came out of the _Huahine_ that last
voyage, and that kanaka was Joe. The deuce take it, man, I'm glad to see
you, though I never heard your new name before."

"Yes, everybody speak me Joe along the _Huahine_. Utami my name all the
time, just the same."

"But what are you doing here?" Tudor ask