"Dick, there must be a queer streak of brutality in me, but would you mind blowing up that frightful tree? I wouldn't mind its nature if it were ugly—but look at it! It's so deceptively beautiful! You wouldn't think it had the disposition of a fiend, would you?"
A general laugh relieved the nervous tension, and Seaton stepped impulsively toward DuQuesne with his hand outstretched.
"You've squared your account, Blackie. Say the word and the war's all off."
DuQuesne ignored the hand and glanced coldly at the group of eager, friendly faces.
"Don't be sentimental," he remarked evenly as he turned away to his room. "Emotional scenes pain me. I gave my word to act as one of the party."
"Well, may I be kicked to death by little red spiders!" exclaimed Seaton, dumbfounded, as the other disappeared. "He ain't a man, he's a fish!"
"He's a machine. I always thought so, and now I know it," stated Margaret, and the others nodded agreement.
"Well, we'll sure pull his cork as soon as we get back!" snapped Seaton. "He asked for it, and we'll give him both barrels!"
"I know I acted the fool out there," Margaret apologized, flushing hotly and looking at Crane. "I don't know what made me act so stupid. I used to have a little nerve."