"They've got him?"
"Yes. He is on Palm Island, surrounded; not caught."
"A-a-ah!" Garman rubbed his hands together as a growl of triumph rumbled up from his thick red throat. "Have Prince saddled, Ramos. Then ride back and watch so they don't hurt him. I'll follow—I'm called away—on business, Annette. You entertain Mr. Payne."
With a leap he was off the verandah and running for the stables.
Payne met him as he mounted, and caught the horse by the head.
"Garman, who's the man Ramos spoke of?"
"Let go, you fool! The brute's a striker."
Payne dodged the flash of the animal's forehoofs, but caught a bridle rein.
"Who is he, Garman?"
"A fool—trespassing. Just business."