I don't know what. Thinks I don't blarney the Kanakas enough, perhaps.
Then there's Follet."
"Oh, is he in it?" I forgot to go.
"He's more in it than I am, and I'm darned if I know what she's up to
with the three of us. I'm playing 'possum, till I find out."
"If you can stand Follet butting in, why can't you stand Schneider?
Safety in numbers, you know."
"Well, Mr. Follet belongs here. I can have it out with him any time.
He'll have to play the game. But if I know Schneider, there's no wedding
bells in his. And Mam'selle Eva hasn't, as you might say, got a
chaperon."
The spectacle of "Mam'selle Eva," as I had last seen her, perspiring,
loosely girdled, buying a catch of fish at a fair price from three
mercenary natives adorned with shark's-tooth necklaces, rose before me.
"Man alive, you don't have to chaperon _her_," I cried. "She's on to
everything."
The sun-and-wind-whipt eyes flashed at me. The spanner trembled a
little.
"Don't misunderstand me," I insisted. "But it stands to reason that,
here on Naapu, she's learned a good many things they don't teach in
little red schoolhouses. I have a great respect for her, and, between
you and me, I shouldn't wonder if she had sized Schneider up already."
The eyes were appeased. "Maybe, maybe," he grunted.
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