McClintock whistled. "Oho!" he said. "So she got away as far as this, eh? But where does she come in?"
The doctor recounted that side of the tale. "And so I want the boy out of the way," he concluded. "She in intensely impressionable and romantic, and probably she is giving the chap qualities he doesn't possess. All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth. You have to see her to understand."
"And what are you going to do with her, supposing I'm fool enough to take this boy with me?"
"Send her to my people, in case she cannot find her aunt."
"I see. Afraid there'll be a love-affair. Well, I'll have a look-see at this young De Maupassant. I know faces. Down in my part of the world it's all a man has to go by. But if he's in bed, how the devil is he going with me, supposing I decide to hire him? The mudhook comes up to-morrow night."
"I can get him aboard all right. A sea voyage under sail will be the making of him."
"Let's toddle over to the Victoria at once. I'll do anything in reason for you, old top; but no pig in a poke. Enschede's daughter. Things happen out this way. That's a queer yarn."
"It's a queer girl."
"With a face as square and flat as a bottle of gin. I know the
Dutch." He sent the doctor a sly glance.
"She's the most beautiful creature you ever set eyes on," said the doctor, warmly. "That's the whole difficulty. I want her to get forward, to set her among people who'll understand what to do with her."