“At the end of the crushing season, I think,” answered Sherard coolly; “the brat will be old enough to be taken from her by then.”
It is a bad thing for a man to “thump” either a Chilian, or a Peruvian, or a Mexican. And Prout had “thumped” the evil-faced Chileno very badly one day for beating a native nearly to death. Had he been wiser he would have taken the little man's knife out of his belt and plunged it home between his ribs, for a Chileno never forgives a blow with a fist.
III.
“Are you going over to Halaliko to-night, Prout?” asked Sherard, walking up to where his manager and Marie sat enjoying the cool of the evening. He threw himself in a cane chair beside them and puffed away at his cheroot, playing the while with the little Mercedes.
“Yes, I might as well go to-night and see how the Burtons have got on,” and Prout arose and went to the stables.
Sherard remained chatting with Marie till Prout returned, and then, raising his hat to her, bade them good-night.”
“Don't let Burton entice you to Halaliko, Prout,” he said with a laugh; “he knows that your time here is nearly up.”
Prout laughed too. “I don't think that Marie would like me to give up Kalahua for Halaliko—would you, old girl?”