"What's he know about copra and native talk?"
"Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast enough."
"A fugitive."
"But that's the point—I don't know. But supposing he is? Supposing he made but one misstep? Your island would be a haven of security. I know something about men."
"I agree to that. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. Why are you so anxious?"
"Oh, if you can't see your way…."
"I'll have a look-see before I make any decision. It's your eagerness that bothers me. You seem to want this chap out of Canton."
The doctor hesitated, puffing his tobacco hastily. "There's a young woman."
"I remember now!" interrupted McClintock. "This Enschede—the missioner. One of his converted Kanakas dropped in one day. He called Enschede the Bellower. Seems Enschede's daughter ran away and left him, and he's combing the islands in search of her. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me."
"Well, this young lady I was about to describe," said the doctor, "is Enschede's daughter."