"I think we should be better off as friends than enemies, Mr. Trent," Moniz said.
"What do you want now?" Chester demanded.
"I saw the ketch was back," the Portuguese said, with a wave of the hand in the direction of the Kestrel" and I came to ask you to listen to reason."
"Mr. Keith did the listening for me yesterday," the planter replied bluntly, "and if I understand him aright he gave you your answer."
Moniz muttered something in Portuguese which sounded like an oath. He gave a savage glance toward Keith, who had joined the others on the veranda, and pitched the end of a cigarette over the rail with an ill-tempered flick. For a moment he was on the verge of losing his temper, but with an effort he regained control of it.
"Mr. Trent, we were friends till this Yankee gentleman came here," he said with a forced smile. "We could still do good business together if you would join me in this little enterprise."
"Excuse me, my breakfast is getting cold," Chester said, turning on his heel. "I have no more to say to you."
He went indoors abruptly. Keith and Moniz, left alone on the veranda, glared at one another. The trader hated this big interloper heartily, and Keith, though not conscious of hatred, thoroughly disliked and distrusted the Portuguese. Had the situation been much more strained they would prob-
