“Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. The watcher's intake of breath was sibilant. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. But we smirk a little, I’m afraid, habitually when we talk to you. ” “I don’t believe it,” he answered hoarsely. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. ’ Gerald grinned.
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