ed with nuts were always landing on the
beach. _The Tigress_ went prowling for nut, too. Once, both Ruth
and Spurlock accompanied McClintock far south, to an island of
blacks; and Spurlock had his first experience with the coconut
dance and the booming of wooden tom-toms.

At first Spurlock tasted coconut in his eggs, in what meat he ate;
it permeated everything, taste and smell. For a long time even the
strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed
a coconut flavour. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or
tasted it.

On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a
packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. McClintock never
threw away any advertising matter; in fact, he openly courted
pamphlets; and they came from automobile dealers and great
mail-order houses, from haberdashers and tailors and manufacturers
of hair-tonics, razors, gloves, shoes, open plumbing. In this way
(he informed Spurlock) he kept posted on what was going on in the
strictly commercial world. "Besides, lad, even an advertisement of
a cough-drop is something to read." So there was always plenty of
mail.

Among the commercial enticements McClintock found a real letter. In
privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually
destroyed it by fire. It was, in his opinion, the most astonishing
letter he had ever read. He hated to destroy it; but that was the
obligation imposed; and he was an honourable man.

Not since she had discovered it had Ruth touched or opened the
mission Bible; but to-night (the same upon which the wonderful
manuscripts started on their long and circuitous voyage to America)
she was inexplicably drawn to it. In all these weeks she had not
once knelt to pray. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. God had
never answered any of her prayers. But this time she wanted nothing
for herself: she wanted something for Hoddy--success. So, not
exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God.
She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed,
knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover.

It was not a long prayer. She said it audibly, having learned long
since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. And yet, at
the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to
consciousness. "And someday let him care for me!"

She sprang up, alarmed. This unexpected interpolation might spoil
the efficacy of all that had gone before. S