It had been intended for him. Yet even
then it was hard to believe. He glanced over the familiar landscape and
at the sea dimpling in the light but steady breeze. From the direction
of Tulagi he could see the white sails of a schooner laying a tack across
toward Berande. Down the beach a horse was grazing, and he idly wondered
where the others were. The smoke rising from the copra-drying caught his
eyes, which roved on over the barracks, the tool-houses, the boat-sheds,
and the bungalow, and came to rest on Joan's little grass house in the
corner of the compound.
Keeping now to the shelter of the trees, he went forward another quarter
of a mile. If Tudor had advanced with equal speed they should have come
together at that point, and Sheldon concluded that the other was
circling. The difficulty was to locate him. The rows of trees, running
at right angles, enabled him to see along only one narrow avenue at a
time. His enemy might be coming along the next avenue, or the next, to
right or left. He might be a hundred feet away or half a mile. Sheldon
plodded on, and decided that the old stereotyped duel was far simpler and
easier than this protracted hide-and-seek affair. He, too, tried
circling, in the hope of cutting the other's circle; but, without
catching a glimpse of him, he finally emerged upon a fresh clearing where
the young trees, waist-high, afforded little shelter and less hiding.
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