He slowly folded the letter. It was obvious, Farris thought, that the man did not like it, but had to make the best of orders.
“I shall do everything possible to help,” Berreau promised. “You’ll want a native crew, I suppose. I can get one for you.” Then a queer look filmed his eyes. “But there are some forests here that are impracticable for lumbering. I’ll go into that later.”
Farris, feeling every moment more exhausted by the long tramp, was grateful for the rum and soda Lys handed him.
“We have a small extra room — I think it will be comfortable,” she murmured.
He thanked her. “I could sleep on a log, I’m so tired. My muscles are as stiff as though I were hunati myself.”
Berreau’s glass dropped with a sudden crash.
CHAPTER 2
Sorcery of Science
Ignoring the shattered glass, the young Frenchman strode quickly toward Farris.
“What do you know of hunati?” he asked harshly,