Loveacre lit a cigarette. He was the least depressed man there, and he said:
“Well, there’s still two days left before the proposed marriage, Bony, and the black with him, will be within twenty miles of that cane-grass swamp. They ought to know by tomorrow morning if Rex is living about that swamp.”
“What swamp are you talking about?” demanded McPherson.
“The one at the western end of this valley, according to the map Bony drew and left with us. To me, as an airman, it seems the most likely place for Rex to have his headquarters. Bony must have his chance.”
“Have his chance!” shouted McPherson. “He had his chance to stop Rex taking Flora, didn’t he? He knew what happened to me, because in spite of the wind my bucks read his tracks. He knew what happened to the doctor’s aeroplane. He knew that Rex was after Flora because I wrote a note and left it in the car at Watson’sBore telling him so. And yet he goes to sleep and allows Rex to walk off with her.”
“If there’s any blame to be handed out, I’m to take it,” rasped Whyte. “Bony was here that afternoon working on the map and plans. He thought Flora would be safe enough over in the house with me. She simply walked off with Itcheroo.”
“And Itcheroo’s a corpse,” Nevin interjected.
“More’sthe pity,” McPherson ground out. “Anyway, matters being like they are, I’m going to send up the surrender signal.”
Dr Whyte spun round in the doorway to shout passionately:
“No you don’t. We’re not going to give in to that black devil. Flora’s my life, but as Loveacre points out we’ve got two days yet and Bony’s getting near that swamp.”
“Two days’ grace,” the squatter said. “If you two knew Rex like I do you wouldn’t accept two minutes’ grace from him. The smoke signal is going up today, this morning. Rex wouldn’t expect to see it before this morning on account of the wind. He’s got to see it, or be told about it by his people, before tonight. Decent men don’t offer a baby to a tiger.”
“You’ll wait two days before sending up that signal smoke,” the doctor said, levelly.
McPherson lurched to his feet.
“I’ll do what?” he shouted. “Who the devil are you to dictate to me in my own country?”
“I’mO. C. Base Operations,”came the reply spoken with such steel coldness that McPherson winced despite his rage. “You blamed Bony for letting Rex take Flora. What kind of an ass are you to go off with a few blacks who were tricked by fake smoke signals? Your place was here keeping an eye wide open to counter just what did happen to Flora. You can’t accept termslaid down by an outlaw, a murderer, and possible madman. As Bony said, the only chance of getting Flora back is to employ subtlety. That’s what he’s doing. He and Burning Water are risking their lives. You are not going to act independently any more. If you even threaten to I’ll chain you to a tree.”