Up the path toward them came two timid children, one bearing a pineapple half as large as himself, the other lugging an armful of strange fruit. Kirk bought their entire burden, and they scuttled away in high glee.
By now the spirit of the woods was in the picnickers; the gladness of the day possessed them wholly, and the afternoon sped quickly. If at times Kirk found his companion regarding him with a strangely timid, half-defiant look, he refused to connect it with the episode of their landing. It was a fleeting look, at most, gone almost before he surprised it, and, for the most part, Edith showed a seemingly quite natural gayety that helped him to forget his recent self-consciousness.
Promptly at four they came down the drunken little main street and out upon the beach. But no launch was in sight.
"Hello! Where's our boat?" exclaimed Kirk.
"The captain told me he'd be ready at four. Perhaps he has run over to
Taboguilla or—" She hesitated, with a troubled frown.
"You told him to wait?"
"Distinctly." Seeing an idler in the square above she questioned him in Spanish. "This man says the launch left for Panama two hours ago." She turned tragic eyes upon Kirk.
"Do you think they intend to leave us?"
"I don't know. These people are liable to do any thing." Once more she questioned the loiterer. "It is just as I suspected," she explained; "they went on a Sunday spree. He says they came ashore and bought a lot of liquor, and he heard them quarrelling later."
"That means we'll have to get another boat."