He received the same reply as that given to the first driver. The second man could curse even more fluently than the one who had sent Mrs. Fabian scurrying away. But Mr. Ashby quietly took one step forward and caught the whip from the darky’s hand. Instantly he cowered and bobbed as if in apology.
Then came Mr. Dalken’s equipage, with Ruth and Nancy in mortal dread of being killed before the man would stop his horse.
“Where is Jack and the other girls?” asked Mr. Dalken, looking around in wonderment. He had fully expected to find them all there.
Before any one could reply, the wrangling over the fares began again. Each driver claimed four times the usual fee, but Mr. Dalken understood them, and when at last he had settled for the regular price of a dollar a trip, they smiled politely and drove away.
“You see, in these isles, one must never pay the price demanded. The native holds the highest regard and esteem for those who know the ropes and stick to one price—generally it is four to five times less than that asked. Remember this when you go shopping, ladies,” said Mr. Dalken.
“But what will you do about Polly and Nolla—and the two lost boys?” asked Ruth, anxiously.
“We will go over on the verandah and order long cool drinks of orangeade and wait for them. They will come, all right, when the driver hears that they wish to stop at this hotel,” said Mr. Dalken.
“Aren’t you a little worried?” asked Mrs. Courtney.
“No, not in Kingston. It would have been different in Havana or Hayti. Here, every one is as honest as the drinks—and they are temperance and pure. No synthetic orangeade for your money.” The laughing tone and reassuring manner of their host made his friends feel confident that soon the lost members of their party would arrive with varied tales of adventures.
Meanwhile young Baxter had managed to cause such a drag on the horse, to which he clung like grim death, that the animal stopped on a side lane where the blinding dust measured at least ten inches in depth. Natty Jack, in his once immaculate white flannels and silk shirt, looked for all the world as if he had been purposely caked with Jamaica dust an inch thick. Even his hair and eyebrows stuck out in yellow thickness. As the horse stopped Jack let go and sat down upon the ground with a heavy sigh.