And
we could ill have spared either boat or cook.
Yet even though unvexed by this gruesome knowledge, after two or
three days I noticed that Cookie was ill at ease. As the leisure
member of the party, I enjoyed more of Cookie's society than the
rest. On this occasion while the morning was still in its early
freshness he was permitting me to make fudge. But his usual
joviality was gone. I saw that he glanced over his shoulder at
intervals, muttering darkly to himself. Also that a rabbit's foot
was slung conspicuously about his neck.
Having made my fudge and set the pan on a stone in the stream to
cool, I was about to retire with a view to conducting a limited
exploring expedition of my own. The immunity of the umbrellas and
the assurances of Mr. Shaw--not personally directed to me, of
course; the armed truce under which we lived did not permit of
that--had convinced me that I had not to dread anything more
ferocious than the pigs, and the wildest of them would retire
before a stick or stone. Besides, I boasted a little automatic,
which I carried strapped about my waist in a businesslike manner.
Mr. Vane had almost got me to the point where I could shoot it off
without shutting my eyes.
Thus equipped, I was about to set off into the woods. Secretly I
had been rehearsing a dramatic scene, with myself in the leading
role:
_Treasure-seekers assembled, including a cold and cynical Scot.
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