“I hope so,” Hal said aloud when he got into his hammock a moment later. “It would pain me to know that Ceara did anything like that after all the puffs he’s been given!” He chuckled, then looked grave the next minute.
He was thinking about Renan—Rene, and did not know which name he preferred. He did know, however, that he thought the Pembertons a queer lot. Somehow their connection with the Cause amused him, and he wondered if they, too, could not see the humorous side of it. Renan must certainly see it. Laughter and smuggled munitions!
Hal realized after a while, however, that there was not so much to laugh at with Goncalves. He presented a problem grave enough to make one frown. Meanwhile the time was fleeing and before they knew it, the Señor would be paying them a visit.
His mind was so full of this worry that he slept but little and got up at dawn. After dressing he hurried down to the river bank to think it over, and in his nervous deliberation he pulled out of his pocket the handkerchief which he had had with him the night before.
It felt gritty to the touch, and when he went to put it up to his face a light-colored substance fell from it to the ground. It interested him greatly.
Hal examined it curiously, particularly the few particles that clung to the handkerchief. Then he bethought himself of how, the night before, he had slid down the sloping embankment and into the bushes to avoid the canoeists. That was where he had wiped the wet clay from his hands.
He shook his head uncertainly and slid down the embankment again. There he delved about, poking into the embankment and eagerly scrutinizing every bit of clay that came out in his hand. In several places he did this until he espied his footsteps in the wet earth. Almost covering them was some more clay which he had loosened in his fall.
He searched through it carefully and finally brought up a handful of the yellow dust which he scooped up immediately. Then he scrambled up the bank and across the clearing, almost running into Old Marcellus as he came out of his door.
“G’d mornin’, young sir. You seem to have been as restless as myself,” said the old man.
“Looks that way all right,” Hal said, hardly able to contain himself. “But it’s a good thing I was restless. I think, Mr. Pemberton, that I’ve discovered something.”