"Oh--_tripod_, Mr. Tubbs?" I said inquiringly.
"Yes, sure," he returned undaunted. "Them camera supports is named
for it, you know. But of course this gay gink of a Sandy had to
come buttin' in. Too bad the Honorable Bertie had partook so free.
He'd have looked the part all right when it come to rescuin' beauty
in distress. But Fortune bein' a lady and naturally capricious,
she hands the stunt over to old Sobersides here."
Just then old Sobersides cut across the flow of Mr. Tubbs's
sprightly conversation and with a certain harshness of tone asked
Captain Magnus if he had had good sport on the other side of the
island. Captain Magnus, as usual, had seemed to feel that time
consecrated to eating was wasted in conversation. At this
point-blank question he started confusedly, stuttered, and finally
explained that though he had taken a rifle he had carried along
pistol cartridges, so had come home with an empty bag.
At this moment I happened to be looking at Cookie, who was setting
down a dish before Mr. Tubbs. The negro started visibly, and
rolled his eyes at Captain Magnus with astonishment depicted in
every dusky feature. He said nothing, although wont to take part
in our conversation as it suited him, but I saw him shake his great
grizzled head in a disturbed and puzzled fashion as he turned away.
After this a chill settled on the table.
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