risively. His instinct for
effective poses asserting itself, he began showing off his aptitude
with the revolver. He twirled it, with elaborate carelessness, on his
trigger finger, and with one movement of his wrist, stopped it, at the
same time drawing a bead on the shining gold-scales above the window.

"I've been trying to get my hands on this for days," he said
conversationally, turning to her again. "Your aim is a little too sure
for me to take any chances." He looked at the weapon in his hand.
"You know, my dear, I have never really believed in that popular
fallacy concerning women and force--that a club and long hair go
together. Still, you never can tell. . . . As a persuader this is a
bit better than a club, but--" he shrugged his shoulders
contemptuously, "I'll not need it--here." He extracted the three
cartridges from the revolver and tossed it easily to the bed.

"Oh-o-o Ellen!" Jean's despairing voice struck through the room as she
woke and found the pistol gone.

The trader glanced from one to the other. "I am indeed a fortunate
man," he laughed, "to be cast upon an island with two charming women.
Some might think it an embarrassment of riches--but I. . . ." He
allowed a significant silence to sink in.

Ellen had risen from the bed and stood beside her sister, a hand
resting protectingly on the girl's shoulder. The White Chief crossed
to the table and seated himself on the edge of it, one foot swinging
free.

"You're both going to think a lot of me before we're taken off Kon
Klayu," he told them. "Oh, yes, we'll be taken off, my dears, but not
by your husband, Mrs. Boreland." He ignored Ellen's cry and proceeded:

"I was a little afraid the first week that he might, by sheer Irish
luck, have escaped the storm and be turning up here--but it's too late
now. I'll wager you're a widow."

He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely as his pale eyes lingered
first on one and then on the other woman before him.

"The pale white rose, and the dewy red bud," his vibrant voice went on
mockingly. "Oh, do not be alarmed--" as they both shrank back--"I'm
not going to be crude. I have plenty of time--plenty of time-- Oh,
you would, would you!" He broke off with a sudden snarl, as Ellen,
infuriated by his manner, snatched up the empty revolver and hurled it
with all her strength at his head.

He dodged, and with one panther-like movement, leaped at her, his arms
closing like a vice about her s