washed down some six feet below the level and was growing bravely there, out of a handful of soil and some cracks in the rocks. This moved gently and swayed its long locks, but such breeze as reached it, failed to pass through so effectual a wind-break, though Dick leaned forward hoping to intercept a breath of it.
Moto returned at last with the hammer and stood looking doubtfully about to divine its purpose. "Pull out those nails," ordered Dick, indicating the canvas curtain which hung at the south end of the lanai, its bottom weighted with a heavy wooden pole.
"I think no good,—" began Moto uneasily.
"Pull them out! Pull them out!" commanded Dick. "I'm going to have that curtain up if it costs a leg. What the deuce have they got it nailed down for, anyhow?"
Moto examined the row of nails which had been driven through the canvas and into the wood of the lanai, just above the pole. "I think they like keep it down, maybe," he said.
"I don't care a hang what they like!" fumed Dick. "I'm going to have some air here. They've shut off the whole seaward side of this place; not a window in my room on that side, this canvas nailed down and that ironwood tree out there shutting off all of the wind and all of the view, right up to the
