"Just who or what is she?" Boyd inquired, curiously, glad of anything to divert his thoughts from their present channel.
"She's just a big-hearted girl, and the only person, red, white, or yellow, who gave me a kind word or a bite to eat till you came along. That's all I know about her. I'd have gone crazy only for her." The big man ground his teeth as the memory of his injuries came uppermost.
Before Boyd could follow the subject further, Alton Clyde strolled in upon them, arrayed immaculately, with gloves, tie, spats, and a derby to match, a striped waistcoast, and a gold-headed walking-stick.
"Salutations, fellow-fishermen!" he began. "I just ran in to settle the details of our trip. I want my tailor to get busy on my wardrobe to-morrow." Boyd shook his head.
"Ain't going to be no wardrobe," said Balt.
"Why? Has something happened to scare the fish?"
"I can't raise the money," Emerson confessed.
"Still shy that twenty-five thou?" questioned the clubman.
"Yes! I'm done."
"That's a shame! I had some ripping clothes planned—English whip-cord—"