The note was exceedingly brief. It read:

"The mate is following you,--NEWMARCH."

Kaipi had returned to the job of sharpening his knife in which I had
interrupted him, and at intervals he assured the dead Toni that
vengeance was only a matter of a few hours. As far as I was concerned
the captain could not have chosen a better messenger.

"Kaipi," I said, tearing the note into small pieces, "you have been
sent to help me find Leith and the Professor. See, I have the
Professor's picture maker. He forgot it this morning, and the captain
sent you and me to take it to him. Do you understand?"

The Fijian grinned, tried the edge of his knife blade with the ball of
his thumb, then sprang to his feet.

"And don't be in too great a hurry to fix Soma," I cautioned. "Toni's
spirit can wait a few days till you get a suitable opportunity. Now,
we'll strike the trail."

Kaipi grinned again, put his sharpened knife into his belt and plunged
into the dense undergrowth. The snaky, moist lianas made progress next
to impossible. They clung around our legs like live things, and I damned
the Professor's idiotic craving for notoriety as we waded through the
clammy creepers in search of the trail made by the party. The prickly
rope-like vines seemed to be in league with the devil who was leading
the aged scientist and his daughters into dangers that made my brain
dizzy as I attempted to dissect the possibilities which imagination put