Later, as he sat near the spot where his foe had fallen, he saw that others had visited the spot recently. There were a multitude of fresh tracks in the sand about the palmetto scrub. He regarded them indifferently until he saw the deep marks of Higgins' hunting boots. Besides these he saw other men's tracks, including the marks of Willy High Pocket's bare feet. And then he saw that which sent the blood racing to his head. Clearly outlined in the sand were the marks of a girl's tennis slippers, and he knew they were Annette's. He searched the sand like a hound now, seeking signs of what had happened. He saw where the tracks had come into the clearing--Higgins, Willy High Pocket and Annette. They had been running. Then he saw how they had scattered, searching the country round, and had returned to the spot where Garman lay. From there they had gone toward the path leading to Garman's house. There were tracks of half a dozen men. Garman's was among them. He had, apparently, been helped to his feet and led away. As the last rays of the setting sun were gilding the palm tops Roger pushed aside a curtain of moon vine and looked out upon Garman's house and the little lake beyond. To his surprise the Egret lay at the dock, the captain on the bridge, ready to start downstream. Higgins, Davis and Willy High Pockets were standing near the pergola looking toward the house. Presently they turned and walked slowly out of sight and hearing. Garman came tottering out of the house onto the walk leading to the dock. He was freshly clad and extensively bandaged. Beside him walked Annette, supporting him with the strength of her tall young body. Garman was broken physically, but his spirit remained strong. Suddenly he halted, painfully freeing his arm from her supporting hand. "No," he mumbled through his bandages, "I can't let you do that." "But I want to help you to the boat," she protested. "You're very weak, you know." Garman tottered, yet he gestured her away. He spoke slowly, each word an effort. "Might it occur to you that even in my present condition I might be capable of feeling a sense of humiliation at being helped away--by you?" "I wouldn't want you to feel that," she replied. "Ha!" he laughed faintly, "The magnanimity of victorious youth toward the conquered. Star-eyed youth has won, and----" "Oh, please don't take up that old strain, Mr. Garman. You are badly hurt; you must think of getting to a doctor at once." "Can the leopard change his spots?" he said. "No. He doesn't want to. I was very weak a moment ago. My strength is returning. But I am not. A strong man leaves and forgets the scene of his defeat, and the defeat. You will never see me again. Can you bear up under that?" "I'm very sorry to hear you say things like that." Garman swayed like a broken tree, but despite it he smiled sardonically.