Payne did not sleep. The evening passed; and the soft
Florida moon rode low in the blue mist of the warm night. The moon
disappeared; and through it all he lay awake, vibrant with a fear which
he dared not own, and which made him yearn for the return of daylight.
Higgins rose reluctantly next morning.
"I can't do it," he muttered at first. "I've got to have water."
Payne slapped him full in the face.
"Wake up! Talk like a man!"
The blood of anger flushed Higgins' face; he blinked and, wide awake,
understood.
"Oh! All right. Come on."
"Give me your gun," said Payne sharply.
"What? Oh, hell! I'm not that bad."
"Not yet; but we'll play safe. Hand it over."
XVI
With the revolver in his possession Payne started the day's march at
Higgins' side. Soon his caution was justified. At an island Higgins
stopped and stared drunkenly at the salt water gleaming among the
mangrove roots.
"Steady, Hig," warned Payne.
"What?"
"It's salt, you know."
"Oh, yes. 'At's so."
They crept on.
"Don't care if it is salt; I'm going to have some water," said Higgins
suddenly. "Look at those damn buzzards back there. They know it's
salt. Gimme Old Betsy, Payne, and I'll knock one of 'em down, and then
we'll----"
"Higgins!"
"What?" Higgins shook his head.
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