Trent ran one hand through his hair and looked out toward the reef visible between the trees.
"You were quite right about Moniz," he said, addressing Joan. "That chap is an unmitigated wrong 'un. I believe he'd do away with his own grandmother if he thought he could make a profit out of it. The blackguard got me to stay two nights on various pretexts, and broached a case of whiskey for the occasion. But he kept his own head clear enough. I say, Keith, you look like a useful sort of man to have around in a rough and tumble. I wonder if I could count on you to help if there's trouble."
"Sure. I'll lend a hand if I can be of any assistance," replied Keith gladly. "What is it? Niggers?"
"Yes, but niggers under a Portuguese called Moniz. D'you see that reef?" he added, pointing.
"That's where I first landed after a pretty long swim," Keith replied.
"Well," said Trent, "I've got a notion that there may be some pearls off there." Keith glanced at the girl but her face was expressionless. Evidently she preferred her brother to tell his own story. "The fact is, we've been fishing there on and off for some months. I've found enough to make me think there might be money in the venture. But Moniz has heard something about it. There are dozens of reefs, all round the island, and the only
