Again the girl understood and said no more.
“She’s a peach of a girl. Don’t insist on prying into everything,” he thought. “Someday I’ll tell her my secrets.”
“If this Midas were only a dog,” he said a moment later, speaking of Dot’s donkey, “he could lead us back over the trail to his mistress. But being only a donkey—”
“Midas has donkey’s ears because he is a donkey.” The girl laughed a merry laugh. “Since he is a donkey you can’t expect too much of him. But we’ll find Doris all right.”
“I’m sure of it,” said Curlie.
* * * * * * * *
In the meantime Johnny, Doris and Nieta had reached the beach and were revelling in a tropical sunrise over the sea.
Dawn on a tropical sea! How can one describe it? Great, dark clouds that appear to threaten sudden disaster. The sea a sheet of gray steel. Then, slowly comes the change. The dull, threatening clouds are tinted with the pink of rose petals. The sea loses its dull foreboding and like the sky becomes a thing of beauty. Brighter colors follow, red, orange, yellow, and after that, with a low whisper of wavelets the day is ushered in.
And such a day as it promised to be for the three of them, Johnny, Doris and Nieta.
The first fact that Johnny’s practiced eye noted was that the boat that had carried them to these strange shores was gone.