ead were
propped by pillows.

McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. It was his
particular hobby, and the leisure he had to apply to it had given
him a remarkable appraising eye. Within ten minutes he had read
much more than had greeted his eye. A wave of pity went over
him--pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. The poor old
imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he
had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her
gifts.

As for the patient, his decision was immediate. Here was no crooked
soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but
fundamentally honest. Given time and the right environment, and he
would outgrow these defects. Confidence in himself would strengthen
him. If the boy had done anything wrong back there in the States,
his would be the brand of conscience to pay him out in full. With a
little more meat on him, he would be handsome.

"My friend here," said McClintock, "tells me you are looking for a
job."

"Yes."

"Well, I've a job open; but I don't want you to get the wrong idea
of it. In the first place, it will be damnably dull. You won't
often see white folks. There will be long stretches of idleness,
heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. A
good deal of the food will be in tins. You'll live to hate chicken;
and the man in you will rise up and demand strong drink. But nobody
drinks on my island unless I offer it, which is seldom. If there is
any drinking, I'll do it."

Spurlock smiled at the doctor.

"He'll not trouble you on the liquor side, Mac."

[Illustration: _Distinctive Pictures Corporation. The Ragged Edge._
A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY.]

"So much the better. You will have a bungalow to yourself,"
continued McClintock, "and your morning meal will be your own
affair. But luncheon and dinners you will sit at my table. I'm a
stickler about clothes and clean chins. How you dress when you're
loafing will be no concern of mine; but fresh twill or Shantung,
when you dine with me, collar and tie. If you like books and music,
we'll get along."

"Then you are taking me on?" Spurlock's eyes grew soft like those
of a dog that, expecting the whip, saw only the kindly hand.

"I am going to give you a try."

"When will you want me?"--with pitiful eagerness. "How shall I get
to you?"

"My yacht is in the river. The doctor here says he can get you
aboard to-morrow night. But understand me th