I suffered her to lead me out of doors and set me a chair before the telescope, which she arranged to command a view of the incoming steamer. Eggert came while we were there, with a little trouble on his mind. The book that had annoyed Marjorie so—that copy of "Our Rival, the Rascal," had disappeared from his bookcase, and he wanted to know if either of us had seen it. Miss May shook her head with disgust, while I responded that I had left it on the table the night he showed it to me, and had never picked it up again.
Eggert turned to the steamer I was watching through the glass and said he had known for an hour what it was—his seaman's eye had told him that when only the tops of her smokestacks were visible.
It was going down the islands, he said, and would make its next stop at St. Croix.
An idea sprang into my head. Here was an opportunity to escape the daily visits of Mr. Wesson!
I asked how soon she would leave. Eggert said probably in an hour.
"We must pack our things at once, then," I exclaimed. "I have reasons for wanting to get to St. Croix to-day, and this is a chance not to be missed."
Eggert pleaded with me to wait for the Pretoria, as I had first intended, but I would not listen. I wanted action; the excitement of departure was just the thing in my state of mind. Miss May dutifully went to her chamber and put her things in their receptacles, coming afterward to mine and helping me appreciably. The covers were down, the keys turned in the locks, the typewriting machine in its bag, and everything ready in thirty minutes.
As I left my room my attention was attracted to Miss May, who was talking earnestly with some one from the adjoining veranda. I soon saw that little Thorwald was below, with a handsome mongoose in a trap, which he was exhibiting to her with much pride.
"What are you going to do with that poor creature?" she asked the lad.
"Going to kill him," he answered, in his sharp, clear way.