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"Suppose either one of us is bitten?" she asked after a silence.

"I have lancets, tourniquets, and anti-venom in my tent."

Her smooth hand tightened a little on his arm. She had not realised that the danger was more than a vague possibility.

"You have spring water, of course," he said.

"No… I boiled a little from the swamp before I drank it."

He turned to her sternly and drew her arm through his with an unconscious movement of protection.

"Are you sure that water was properly boiled —thoroughly boiled?" he demanded.

"It bubbled."

"Listen to me! Hereafter when you are thirsty you will use my spring water. Is that understood?"

"Yes… And thank you."

"You don't want to get break-bone fever, do you?"

"No-o!" she said hastily. "I will do everything you wish."

"I'll hang your hammock for you," he said. "Always look in your shoes for scorpions and spiders before you put them on. Never step over a fallen log before you first look on the other side. Rattlers lie there. Never go near a swamp without looking for moccasins.

"Don't let the direct sunlight fall on your bare head; don't eat fruit for a week; don't ever go to sleep unless you have a blanket on. You won't do any of these things, will you?" he inquired anxiously, almost tenderly.

"I promise. And I never dreamed that there was anything to apprehend except alligators!" she said, tightening her arm around his own.

"Alligators won't bother you – unless you run across a big one in the woods. Then keep clear of him."

"I will!" she said earnestly.

"And don't sit about on old logs or lean against trees."

"Why? Lizards?"

"Oh, they're not harmful. But wood-ticks might give you a miserable week or two."

"Oh, dear, oh, dear," she murmured, "I am so glad you came here!" And quite innocently she pressed his arm. She did it because she was grateful. She had a very direct way with her.

XXX

When they came to their tents he went into hers, slung her hammock properly, shook a scorpion out of her slippers, and set his heel on it; drove a non-poisonous but noisy puff-adder from under her foot-rug, the creature hissing like a boiling kettle and distending its grey and black neck.

Terrified but outwardly calm, she stood beside him, now clutching his arm very closely; and at last her tent was in order, the last spider and lizard hustled out, the oil cook-stove burning, the tinned goods ready, the aluminum batterie-de-cuisine ranged at her elbow.

"I wonder," he said, hesitating, "whether I dare leave you long enough to go and dig some holes with a crow-bar."

"Why, of course!" she said. "You can't have me tagging at your heels every minute, you know."

He laughed: "It's I who do the tagging."

"It isn't disagreeable," she said shyly.

"I don't mean to dog every step you take," he continued, "but now, when you are out of my sight, I – I can't help feeling a trifle anxious."

"But you mustn't feel responsible for me. I came down here on my own initiative. I certainly deserve whatever happens to me. Don't I?"

"What comfort would that be to me if anything unpleasant did happen to you?"

"Why," she asked frankly, "should you feel as responsible for my welfare as that? After all, I am only a stranger, you know."

He said: "Do you really feel like a stranger? Do you really feel that I am one?"

She considered the proposition for a few moments.

"No," she said, "I don't. And perhaps it is natural for us to take a friendly interest in each other."

"It comes perfectly natural to me to take a v-very v-vivid interest in you," he said. "What with snakes and scorpions and wood-ticks and unboiled water and the actinic rays of the sun, I can't very well help worrying about you. After all," he added lucidly, "you're a girl, you know."

She admitted the accusation with a smile so sweet that there could be no doubt of her sex.

"However," she said, "you should entertain no apprehensions concerning me. I have none concerning you. I think you know your business."

"Of course," he said, going into his tent and returning loaded with crow-bar, pick-axe, dynamite, battery, and wires.

She laid aside the aluminum cooking-utensils with which she had been fussing and rose from her knees as he passed her with a pleasant nod of au revoir.

"You'll be careful with that dynamite, won't you?" she said anxiously. "You know it goes off at all sorts of unexpected moments."

"I think I understand how to handle it," he reassured her.

"Are you quite certain?"

"Oh, yes. But perhaps you'd better not come any nearer – "

"Mr. White!"

"What!"

"It is dangerous! I don't like to have you go away alone with that dynamite. You make me very anxious."

"You needn't be. If – in the very remote event of anything going wrong – now don't forget what I say! – but in case of an accident to me, you'll be all right if you start back to Verbena at once – instantly – and take the right-hand road – "

"Mr. White!"

"Yes?"