The Columbus journal., 1909-08-18

the cliff. Here arose a heated debate
between the men. Winthrope. stung
by Blake's ieering words, insisted
upon sharing the attack, though with
no great enthusiasm. Much to Blake's
surprise. Miss Leslie came to the sup
port of the Enslishman.
But, Mr. Blake" she argued, you
say it will be perfectly safe for us
here. II SO, it will be safe for myself
alone"
Il can play this game without him..
NO doubt. Yet if. as you say, you
expect to keep off the leopard with a
torch, would it not be well to have
Mr. Winthrope at hand with other
torches. should yours burn out?"
Yes: if I thought he'd be at hand
after the first scare"
Winthrope started off almost on a
run. At that moment he might have
faced the leopard single-handed. Blake
chuckled as he swung away after his
victim. Within ten PAGES. however. he
paused to call back over his shoulder:
Get around the point. Miss Jenny,
and if you want something to do, try
braiding the cocoanut fiber"
Miss Leslie MADE no response: but
she stood for some time gazing after
the two men, There was so much that
was characteristic even in this rear
view. For all his anger and his haste.
the Englishman bore himself with an
air of well-bred nicely. His trim.
erect figure needed only fresh suit
to be irreproachable. On the other
hand. a careless observer, at first
glance. might have mistaken Blake.
with his flannel shirt and shouldered
club. for hulking navy. But there
was nothing of the navy in his swing
ing stride or in the reSoiute pOise OF
his head as he came up with Win
thrope.
Though the girl was not given to re-
flection. the contrast between the two
could not but impress her. How we'll
her countryman-coarse uncultured,
but full of brute strength and courage
fitted in with these primitive sur
roundings Whereas Winthrope-and
herself
She fell into kind of disquieted
brown study. Her eyes had an odd
look, both startled and meditative-
such a look as might be expected of
one who for the first time is peering
beneath the surface of things. and
sees the naked Realities of Life. the
real values. barred of masking conven-
tons. 1t may have been that she was
seeking to ponder the meaning of her
own eXistence-that she had caught q
glimpse of the vanity and wastefu!-
ness. the utter futility of her life At
the best, it could only have been 4
glimpse. But was not that enough?
"Of what use are such people as T."
she cried. That man may be rough
and cOarse-even a brute: but he at
least does things-Ill show him that
I can do things. too"
She fastened out around the corner
of the cliff to the spot where they had
spent the night. Here she gathered
together the cocoanut husks, and seat
ing herself in the shade of the over
hanging lodges began to pick at the
coarse fiber. 1t was cruel work for
her soft fingers. not yet fully healed
from the thorn wounds. At times the
pain and an overpowering sense Of
injury brought tears to her eyes; still
more often she dropped the work in
despair of her awkwardness. Yet al
ways she returned to the task with re-
newed energy.
After no little perseverance. she
found how to twist the fiber and plat
1t into cord. At best it was slow
work. and she did not see how she
should ever make enough cord for a
fish-line. Yet. as she caught the knack
of the work and her fingers became
more nimble she began to enjoy the
novel pleasure of producing something
She had quite forgotten to feel injured.
and was learning to endure with pa