watching _The Waif_.

Newmarch gave a peculiar chuckle as he turned toward me when the party
had disappeared.

"Now, Mr. Verslun," he cried, "we have plenty work to keep us busy for
the week or so we will be here. Get about it the moment the boats
return, and keep the men on the jump."

I nodded, and he went below without another word, leaving me still
staring at the spot where the explorers had dived into the leafy wall.
The strange loneliness of the place seemed to clutch me hard at that
moment, and I mentally abused myself for not making a stronger protest
against the whole affair. But I knew as I damned my own inactivity that
protest would have been useless as far as the Professor was concerned,
and the filial affection of the two girls would not allow the old
ancient to wander off alone.

I had planned to allow the party a few hours' start before I made any
attempt to follow, feeling certain that I would be able to find the
track, and, moreover, I wished to catch up to the expedition at a point
where Leith would have no chance of verifying the story I would tell to
account for my presence. The big brute would probably think I was lying
when I told him that Newmarch had sent me after him, but the Professor's
desire to push on would probably prevent him from making an effort to
check my story by sending a runner back to the boat. And luck was with
me at that moment. As I racked my brain in the construction of a
suitable excuse to account for my appearance, my eyes fell upon the
Professor's camera that had been overlooked in the hurry of departure,
and I sprang upon it joyfully and hid it till the time had elapsed.