"My word," quoth Lalaperu; "plenty walk about, plenty look 'm. Look 'm
tree; look 'm ground belong tree; look 'm all fella bridge; look 'm copra-
house; look 'm grass-land; look 'm river; look 'm whale-boat--my word,
plenty big fella look 'm too much."
"What fella man them two fella?" she queried.
"Big fella marster along white man," was the extent of his description.
But Joan decided that they were men of importance in the Solomons, and
that their examination of the plantation and of its accounts was of
sinister significance.
At dinner no word was dropped that gave a hint of their errand. The
conversation was on general topics; but Joan could not help noticing the
troubled, absent expression that occasionally came into Sheldon's eyes.
After coffee, she left them; and at midnight, from across the compound,
she could hear the low murmur of their voices and see glowing the fiery
ends of their cigars. Up early herself, she found they had already
departed on another tramp over the plantation.
"What you think?" she asked Viaburi.
"Sheldon marster he go along finish short time little bit," was the
answer.
"What you think?" she asked Ornfiri.
"Sheldon marster big fella walk about along Sydney. Yes, me t'ink so. He
finish along Berande.
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