“He will not.  His face will be all I need.  Have you got someone in mind for me?”

“Finish your breakfast and I’ll tell you the story.”  Ten minutes later, the doctor, having marshalled all his facts chronologically, began his tale.  He made it brief.  “Of course, I haven’t the least evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it’s what I’d call a hunch; piecing this and that together.”

“Are you friendly toward him?” asked McClintock, passing a fine cigar across the table.

“Yes.  The boy doesn’t know it, but I dug into his trunk for something to identify him and stumbled upon some manuscripts.  Pretty good stuff, some of it.  The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done.  You’re always complaining that you can’t keep anybody more than three months.  If my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely.”

“I don’t know,” said McClintock.

“But you said you weren’t particular.  Moreover, he’s a Yale University man, and he’d be good company.”

“What’s he know about copra and native talk?”

“Nothing, probably; but I’ll wager he’ll pick it all up fast enough.”

“A fugitive.”

“But that’s the point—­I don’t know.  But supposing he is?  Supposing he made but one misstep?  Your island would be a haven of security.  I know something about men.”

“I agree to that.  But it strikes me there’s a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say.  Why are you so anxious?”

“Oh, if you can’t see your way....”

“I’ll have a look-see before I make any decision.  It’s your eagerness that bothers me.  You seem to want this chap out of Canton.”

The doctor hesitated, puffing his tobacco hastily.  “There’s a young woman.”

“I remember now!” interrupted McClintock.  “This Enschede—­the missioner.  One of his converted Kanakas dropped in one day.  He called Enschede the Bellower.  Seems Enschede’s daughter ran away and left him, and he’s combing the islands in search of her.  He’s a hundred miles sou’-east of me.”

“Well, this young lady I was about to describe,” said the doctor, “is Enschede’s daughter.”

McClintock whistled.  “Oho!” he said.  “So she got away as far as this, eh?  But where does she come in?”

The doctor recounted that side of the tale.  “And so I want the boy out of the way,” he concluded.  “She in intensely impressionable and romantic, and probably she is giving the chap qualities he doesn’t possess.  All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth.  You have to see her to understand.”

“And what are you going to do with her, supposing I’m fool enough to take this boy with me?”

“Send her to my people, in case she cannot find her aunt.”

“I see.  Afraid there’ll be a love-affair.  Well, I’ll have a look-see at this young De Maupassant.  I know faces.  Down in my part of the world it’s all a man has to go by.  But if he’s in bed, how the devil is he going with me, supposing I decide to hire him?  The mudhook comes up to-morrow night.”