ways where he could put his hand on
them. The cheating of the boys in the stores ceased. If there were
any pearls, none came into the light. Gradually McClintock shifted
the burden to Spurlock's shoulders and retired among his books and
music rolls.

Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's--twenty miles to the northwest--for
ice and mail. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British
mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. All sorts of battered
tramps, junks and riff-raff of the seas trailed in and out. Spurlock
was tremendously interested in these derelicts, and got a good deal
of information regarding them, which he stored away for future use.
There were electric and ice plants, and a great store in which one
could buy anything from jewsharps to gas-engines. White men and
natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. It saved long voyages and
long waits; and the buyers rarely grumbled because the prices were
stiff. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and
a club-house for cards and billiards.

He was made welcome as McClintock's agent; but he politely declined
all the proffered courtesies. Getting back the ice was rather a
serious affair. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds--all
she could carry--and started home immediately after sundown; but
even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds
before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered
sawdust pit. This ice was used for refrigerator purposes and for
McClintock's evening peg.

Ruth with Rollo as her guide explored the island. In the heart of
the jungle the dog had his private muck baths. Into one of these he
waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. At first she
thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after
a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities
and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. In the
presence of the husband of his mistress Rollo was always
dignifiedly cheerful, but he never leaped or cavorted as he did
when alone with Ruth.

Spurlock was fond of dogs; he was fond of this offspring of many
mesalliances; but he never made any attempt to win Rollo, to share
him. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. He filled the
role of comrade which Spurlock dared not enact, at least not
utterly as he would have liked. Yes--as he would have liked.

For Ruth grew lovelier as the days went on. She was as lovely in
the spirit as in the flesh. He