"Three months is a long time to stay at the lagoon. Besides, who will look after the business at home?"
"My manager is pretty capable, though he's young and recently promoted. Would you like to go?"
Marston laughed. "I'm not a business man. Would you trust me?"
"I don't think it would be rash. You're a careful fellow, Bob, and it begins to look as if you had talents you didn't know. You have transacted our business like a shipping clerk."
For a moment or two Marston hesitated. Wyndham looked amused and Bob admitted that the situation had a touch of humor. He meant to stay at a place for which he had a strange, superstitious dislike, in order to help his comrade, who would sooner be left alone.
"I may go by-and-by, but I won't go yet," he replied.
They let the matter drop and in the morning Wyndham went up the creek in the boat. He stated, rather vaguely, that he must arrange about some cargo and it was three or four days before he returned. Then Marston sailed with another load for a different port, and the French creole who shipped the goods to England was frankly surprised by their value. Indeed, his remarks indicated that the freight was worth much more than Marston had thought. The latter returned to the lagoon, satisfied in one way, but disturbed in another, and did not see much of his comrade.
Wyndham often left the vessel, and although he did not tell Marston where he went, the loaded canoes that came down the creek hinted that he was usefully engaged. It was plain that the business was remarkably profitable, but Marston imagined Wyndham was overdoing the thing. He began to look worn and was sometimes moody, for a white man cannot strain brain and body hard in the tropic swamps.
Marston got uneasy about him, but to some extent sympathized. They could not long enjoy their monopoly, rivals would soon be attracted to the lagoon, and Harry was justified in seizing his chance. He had not thought Harry greedy, but there was much at stake; Chisholm's approval, Harry's business standing, and his marriage to Flora. Marston could understand his comrade's running heavy risks for a girl like that.
Still he was bothered because he did not know all the risks; it was possible that Harry was being driven far by his very natural ambition, but there were lengths to which one ought not to go.