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“That sounds interesting. But two weeks later he returned. Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. Let alone a girl. 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. And this damning evidence―’ with a brusque gesture at the portrait ‘―must also be destroyed. A mate? A brother-lover to tromp about the world with? “I cannot. "You are angry?" "Very. "I beg pardon," he said. ’ ‘Oh, she’ll be safe enough, Gerald. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. She had behaved in every way perfectly. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. He heard Rollo's stump beat a gentle tattoo on the floor.

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