“For a moment neither of us answered him. Even more than he did we realise the hideous danger of a white woman alone in the bush inland. There were worse dangers than snakes and wild animals to be feared. And it was as we were standing there staring at one another, and afraid to voice our thoughts, that one of McAndrew’s native boys came down the street. He was running and out of breath; and the instant he saw Jimmy he rushed up to him and started gabbling in the local patois. He spoke too fast for me to follow him, and Clavering, of course, couldn’t understand a word. But we both guessed instinctively what he was talking about and we both watched Jimmy’s face. And as we watched it I heard Clavering catch his breath sharply. “At last the boy finished, and Jimmy turned and looked at me. On his face was a look of such cold malignant fury that the question which was trembling on my lips died away, and I stared at him speechlessly. “‘The Dagos have got her,’ he said, very softly. ‘Don Pedro Salvas is, I fear, a foolish man.’ “Clavering gave a sort of hoarse cry, and Jimmy’s face softened. “‘Poor devil,’ he said. ‘Your job is going to be harder than mine. Go back to your yacht—get all your men on shore that you can spare—and if I’m not back in four hours, wait for dawn and then strike inland over the swamp. Find Pedro Salvas’s house—and hang him on the highest tree you can find.’ “Without another word he swung on his heel and went up the street at a long, steady lope. Twice Clavering called after him, but he never turned his head or altered his stride—and then he started to follow himself. It was I who stopped him, and he cursed me like a child—almost weeping. “‘Do what he told you,’ I said. ‘You’d never find your way; you’d be worse than useless. I’ll go with him: you get back and bring your men ashore.’ “And with that I followed Jimmy. At times I could see him, a faint white figure in the darkness, as he dodged through that fever-laden swamp; at times I found myself marvelling at the condition of the man, bearing in mind his method of living. Steadily, tirelessly, he forged ahead, and when he came to the foot-hills I hadn’t gained a yard on him. “And then I began wondering what was going to happen when he reached Salvas’s bungalow, and by what strange mischance the girl had met the owner. That it was revenge I was certain; he had recognised her from the picture, and I remember thinking how bitter must have been his hatred of Mainwaring to have induced him to run such an appalling risk. For the risk was appalling, even in that country of strange happenings. “I don’t think that Jimmy troubled his head over any such speculations. In his mind there was room for only one thought—an all-sufficient thought—to get his hands on Pedro Salvas. I don’t think he even knew that I was behind him, until after it was over and the curtain was falling on the play. And then he had no time for me.”