"Oh, all right, we'll go now," acquiesced Jaffrey Bretton, "just as soon as I can jump into my khakis! Why, I wouldn't fail Martha for anything in the world! Why, that time the catfish stung me she----" Quite precipitate his face darkened, and then cheered again. "Oh, of course I haven't my [139] launch here," he acknowledged, "but we can go in yours!" "Oh--no," protested the Outlaw gently. "It'll be night coming back, and I don't calculate on going nowheres in the dark. . . . It ain't healthy to travel in the dark. . . . My mother back home, she always say it ain't healthy no ways to travel in the dark." "Oh, nonsense!" said Jaffrey Bretton. "Why, Martha may be ill!" "She sure has got something," sighed the Outlaw, "but it ain't a dyingness. To-morrow'll do." "It certainly won't do--if Martha's in trouble!" cried Jaffrey Bretton. "We'll go this minute! . . . Wait till I tell the ladies, and we'll all be along just as soon as we can grab up a bite to eat!" Like a man smitten in his tracks, the Outlaw stopped short and began to twirl his battered slouch hat in his hands. "Oh--not the ladies!" he protested wanly. "Sure, we'll take the ladies!" insisted Bretton. "It will be quite an adventure for them." Dumbly the Outlaw stared for a [140] moment from the Gulf to the sky and back to Jaffrey Bretton's smile again. "You ain't forgotten Martha's little peculiarity, has you?" he whispered, "about red?" In frankly abject misery he began to retwirl his hat. "One of them ladies had red hair, I notices," he said. With a whoop of joy, Jaffrey Bretton tossed back his own white head. "I guess we could muffle it," he laughed. But the Outlaw recognized no mirth in any thing at the moment. "It ain't so easy to muffle ladies," he said. "Oh, shucks!" persisted Jaffrey Bretton. "Trot along." Reluctantly the Outlaw turned and started for his boat. "My engine ain't running any too good," he confided plaintively. "They never do," said Jaffrey Bretton. "'Tain't near likely there's enough gas," deprecated the Outlaw. "There never is," said Jaffrey Bretton. With a gesture of sheer weariness the Outlaw submitted to his fate. "Oh, very well this time," he said, "but I'm [141] going to move. I likes you fine, Mr. Bretton, but I sure am a-going further off. What with Lost Man and Martha this here Gulf is getting too crowded." Cocking his head abruptly toward the sound of metal ringing on metal, Jaffrey Bretton gestured toward the mangrove-shadowed cove. "There's good old Lost Man now," he said, "tinkering with your engine." "Oh--Lost Man's all right," admitted the Outlaw, "only he ain't got any tact." "Oh, shucks!" repeated Jaffrey Bretton. "_Trot_ along, I say! . . . But go over to the food tent first and pick out your trade for the cat skins. Whatever's fair, you know? Anything you please. . . . Strawberries, asparagus, chili con carne--anything, you know, except caviar."