“And yet my meaning is perfectly plain. If you only knew what you are up against, you would not complicate your affairs by—well, by taking on another risk.”
Bill had not the slightest idea what this dark-eyed girl was driving at. He couldn’t give anything away. Mr. Evans’ plans—the very nature of this mysterious business he had dropped into with the thunderstorm was still an unsolved enigma, so far as he was concerned.
This girl, no matter who she was, appeared to be conversant with details of the situation. If he continued to play Mr. Johnson, in whom she seemed vastly interested, some real news might pop out unawares.
“Another risk?” he repeated, taking up the threat of her last remark. “What if I say I don’t mind taking risks?”
“Mr. Johnson, you talk lightly because you do not know. It is one thing to keep out of the hands of the police, but if you knew the truth about your new venture—”
Bill began to think that she was older than he first surmised. Her eyes were half closed, and the curves of her mouth had moulded into a firm line. It gave him quite a shock of surprise to see that look on her face—a look of grim defiance, the look of one who would not hesitate to shoot, and shoot straight, in an extremity.
“You don’t mind risks? Well, Mr. Johnson, you’ll have risks in plenty before you’re much older!”
Bill smiled. “Maybe. But I’ll never have a closer shave than I had this morning. You must admit that. If you and old Jim hadn’t been on this island, I should have gone under for keeps.”
“Don’t speak of it any more,” said the girl. Her expression changed and a gentler note came into her voice. “Try to get some sleep. That’s what you need more than anything else at present. In a few hours I’ll bring you something to eat and you’ll feel better.”
“You’re very kind, and I’ll never be able to thank you properly. But, really, if you could see your way to help me get back to the mainland quickly, I’d be more than obliged.”