Jack continued to eat leisurely. "What about?" he asked, coolly. "I've no mind to stand up and be abused again."
"Garrod is gone," said Vassall.
Jack's indifference vanished like sleight of hand. He sprang up. "Gone!" he echoed.
He headed straight for the big tent, Vassall following, and Humpy Jull looking after them both with round eyes.
The inside of the big tent presented evidences of confusion. Breakfast was spread on the two little tables pushed together, and Linda, Mrs. Worsley, and Baldwin Ferrie were seated, playing with their food. Sir Bryson's chair was pushed back, and his napkin lay on the grass. The little man was agitatedly walking up and down. Jean Paul stood by with a deferential air.
This time Linda gave no sign at Jack's entrance except for an access of self-consciousness.
"What do you know about this?" Sir Bryson immediately demanded.
"I know nothing," Jack said. "I have come to find out."
"Garrod has escaped," said Sir Bryson.
"Why not?" said Jack bitterly. "He ought to have been secured."