e money was really hers and that he did not need it.

"I'll put it in the bank for you," she said finally.

"You'll do nothing of the sort. It's yours, to do with as you please,
and if you won't take it, I'll give it to Maria. She'll know what to do
with it. I'd suggest, though, that you hire a servant and take a good
long rest."

"I'm goin' to tell Bernard all about it," she announced, when she was
leaving.

Martin winced, then grinned.

"Yes, do," he said. "And then, maybe, he'll invite me to dinner again."

"Yes, he will--I'm sure he will!" she exclaimed fervently, as she drew
him to her and kissed and hugged him.

CHAPTER XLII

One day Martin became aware that he was lonely. He was healthy and
strong, and had nothing to do. The cessation from writing and studying,
the death of Brissenden, and the estrangement from Ruth had made a big
hole in his life; and his life refused to be pinned down to good living
in cafes and the smoking of Egyptian cigarettes. It was true the South
Seas were calling to him, but he had a feeling that the game was not yet
played out in the United States. Two books were soon to be published,
and he had more books that might find publication. Money could be made
out of them, and he would wait and take a sackful of it into the South
Seas. He knew a valley and a bay in the Marquesas that he could buy for
a thousand Chili dollars. The valley ran from the horseshoe, land-locked
bay to the tops of the dizzy, cloud-capped peaks and contained perhaps
ten thousand acres. It was filled with tropical fruits, wild chickens,
and wild pigs, with an occasional herd of wild cattle, while high up
among the peaks were herds of wild goats harried by packs of wild dogs.
The whole place was wild. Not a human lived in it. And he could buy it
and the bay for a thousand Chili dollars.

The bay, as he remembered it, was magnificent, with water deep enough to
accommodate the largest vessel afloat, and so safe that the South Pacific
Directory recommended it to the best careening place for ships for
hundreds of miles around. He would buy a schooner--one of those yacht-
like, coppered crafts that sailed like witches--and go trading copra and
pearling among the islands. He would make the valley and the bay his
headquarters. He would build a patriarchal grass house like Tati's, and
have it and the valley and the schooner filled with dark-skinned
servitors. He would entertain there the fact