“You’ve nothing more to tell us?”
Jack hesitated. “No; I—I guess not,” he said at last.
Sam got upon his feet; the Shark also rose.
“Well,” said the former, “we’ll talk this over later on. Meanwhile, let’s get along to the shore; this spot’ll be too hot to hold us presently. Come on, Hagle!”
There was a rustle of brush at the side of the clearing, and a figure appeared. It came forward confidently. Sam spoke sharply.
“Zorn!” he said.
“Huh! Who else would it be?” growled the Shark.
Jack Hagle had been about to rise, in obedience to Sam’s call, but at sight of the newcomer he seemed to change his intention, and paused midway in the movement, resting on his knees. His glance went swiftly from Zorn to Sam, and then back to Zorn.
The Shark wasted no time in courteous preliminaries.
“What do you want, Zorn?” he asked bluntly.