“Take him away!” he gurgled, as his head bobbed up out of the water and almost immediately disappeared again.
“Save him! Save him!” cried Connorton, frantically jumping up and down on the rock.
“Big Splash make crazy man!” commented Joe.
“Better this than him!” gurgled Hartley, again coming up. “Take him away!”
Joe unemotionally prodded Connorton in the stomach, whereupon that gentleman grunted, doubled over, and backed away. Joe prodded him again and again, thus driving him back to the tent. Then Hartley permitted himself to be pulled out of the water; but it was some time before he would let Connorton come near him.
“You see what you’ve done!” he said reproachfully, when he finally did consent to resume intercourse with his visitor. “I warned you, too. Now we can’t talk business before to-morrow.”
“Oh, come!” expostulated Connorton.
“Not until to-morrow,” insisted Hartley. “You’ve got me all upset for to-day.”
Connorton hesitated; but he was desperate now, so at last he drew from his pocket the assignment of patent, somewhat blurred by contact with the water. Even if the notarial seal were lacking, it would make things a little safer if he could get that signed.
“Just put your name to that,” he urged, “and I won’t say another word about business until to-morrow.”