“Mike?” The girl threw him a curious glance.
“Why yes,—Mike.” Curlie spoke slowly as if reluctant to say more.
With a girl’s quick perception, she read his thoughts and asked no other questions.
So in the half darkness of early morning, they left the beautiful chateau to lose themselves on the jungle trail that leads up to the ancient fortress where Dorn, after a restless night full of dire forebodings, was doing his bit helping old Pompee kindle a fire.
They walked along in silence, Curlie and the girl. Curlie was thinking. He had always thought of Haiti as a quiet place, sleepy and hot where nothing truly exciting ever happened, yet after being here only part of a very short summer, he found himself facing many mysteries and, as far as he could tell, in for more than one adventure.
“If only people wouldn’t be forever getting themselves lost,” he thought to himself.
His mind at that moment was busy with thoughts of his little laboratory at the ancient Citadel. “If only they’d leave me alone I’d get the thing completed. And it is important that I should complete it; especially if there is to be a revolution. With these superstitious natives——
“Man! Oh Man!” He unconsciously spoke out loud. “How they would run!”
“Who would run?” said Dot.
“The—why the natives, of course. They’re always running, aren’t they?”