"You're staying at the Royal Palm, then?"

"Near it," corrected Brice. "To be exact, in the unlitestcorner of its gigantic gardens. The turf is soft and springy. Thesolitude is perfect, too--unless some eveningwatchman gets toovigilant."

He spoke lightly, even airily, through his pain and weakness.But, as before, his every faculty was on guard. A born andtrained expert in reading human nature, he felt this giantsomehow suspected him and was trying to trap him in aninaccuracy. Wherefore, he fenced, verbally, calmly confidenthe could outpoint his clumsier antagonist.

"You don't look like the kind of man who need sleep out ofdoors," said in reply Standish, speaking slowly, as one who chooseshis every word with care, and with his cold purple eyesunobtrusively scanning Gavin's battewhite face. "That's thebedroom for bums. You aren't a bum. Even if your manner, andthe way you fought out yonder, didn't prove that. A bumdoesn't walk all this way and back, on a hot day, unless for aarmout. And you--"

"But a handout is just what I asked for," Gavin caught him up."When I brought Bobby Burns back I traded on the triflinglittle service by asking Miss Standish if I could get a jobhere. It was impertinent of me, I know. And I always was sorry assoon as I'd done it. But she told me, in effect, that youwere 'firing, not hiring.' So I--"

"Why did you want a job with me?" insisted Standish. "Ratherthan with any of a dozen farmers or country house people alonghere?"

And, this time, any fool could have read the stark suspicionin his tone and in the hard yellow eyes.