the plantation workers, who had been busy, in their own lethargic fashion; but the knowledge that Moniz was poaching without let or hindrance made Keith wince. He felt no anxiety about Chester's absence. To-day is generally considered as good as to-morrow or yesterday in the South Seas, and one rarely keeps any appointment there, except with death. It was noon on the next day before the unexpected happened. Sailing gracefully as a bird into the bay beneath the bungalow came Moniz's schooner, with a white sheet fluttering from her peak.
After his first shock of amazement Keith laughed in a queer way.
"What do you think of that!" he said to the girl who was by his side. "That dago will never go under for lack of cheek. Here he comes with a flag of truce!"
Joan frowned.
"What on earth can he want?" she said.
"The Lord only knows! We can't shoot under the circumstances, though I haven't the slightest doubt that's what he would do if the positions were reversed. Come, we'll meet the gentleman on the beach and hold a pow-wow."
"I'd rather hold a pow-wow with a rattler!" Joan declared, but she went with Keith.
The schooner luffed up in the deep water close to the shore, anchored, and sent off her small boat.
