The new recruit joined them, awkwardly.



CHAPTER IV


THE SWORD-PEN

"Wutzler was missing last night," said Heywood, lazily. He had finished
breakfast, and lighted a short, fat, glossy pipe. "Just occurred to me.
We must have a look in on him. Poor old Wutz, he's getting worse and
worse. Chantel's right, I fancy: it's the native wife." He rose, with a
short laugh. "Queer. The rest never feel so,--Nesbit, and Sturgeon, and
that lot. But then, they don't fall so low as to marry theirs."

"By the way," he sneered, on the landing, "until this scare blows over,
you'd better postpone any such establishment, if you intend--"

"I do not," stammered Rudolph.

To his amazement, the other clapped him on the shoulder.

"I say!" The sallow face and cynical gray eyes lighted, for the first
time, with something like enthusiasm. Next moment they had darkened
again, but not before he had said gruffly, "You're not a bad
little chap."