pain in the coltâs eyes, only wonder and curiosity at everything Steve and Pitch did. As Dr. Mason had said, he was already getting used to the splint. He had no trouble standing, and Steve knew he would start walking the moment they gave him a chance.
âWell, we did everything we wanted to do,â he told Pitch as the launchâs motor burst into a roar. âAnd we neednât have worried about meeting Tom. My guess is that he did go to South America and itâll be a long, long time before you see him again.â
âYes,â Pitch agreed, âyouâre probably right. We just caused ourselves needless worry. It wasnât even necessary for me to have given you the whole story on Tom.â
âBut Iâm glad you did, Pitch. Iâm in this as much as you are, you know.â
Pitch headed the launch toward the open sea.
Neither he nor Steve looked back at the wharf, for now their eyes and thoughts were only for Azul Island. But if either
had
turned, he might have seen the Fordpull out of the line of parked cars on the wharf. It was a sedan, a two-door sedan, and its color was maroon.
Now it sped down the wharf, its motor racing, its horn blaring. The stevedores jumped out of the carâs way, yelling; but when they saw the giant figure that dwarfed the wheel, they shut their mouths tight. They knew this man well. They wanted to have no trouble with Tom Pitcher.
He turned right when he came off the wharf, slowing down only because of a car directly ahead of him. He cursed, and his heavy hand never left the horn. He brought his front bumper hard against the car ahead. Startled, the driver looked back, saw Tomâs face, and went faster.
Tom Pitcher went faster and faster as he tore through the outskirts of town and entered open country. Now his huge face showed no emotion at all; it held the deathly stillness and unnaturalness of a theatrical mask. A pallor showed beneath his tanned skin. His mouth was a thin, hard scratch of red, too small for the rest of him, as were his eyes. They were beady, snakelike â¦Â staring now at the road ahead without actually seeing it. He wore no hat and his black hair stood bristling straight, adding more inches to his giantâs height. His white sleeveless shirt was open at the throat, disclosing his thick bull neck.
He turned down a dirt lane without slackening his speed. Fields of cane were on his left, the sea on his right. He glanced at the open water just once and momentarily his eyes came alive.
He drove on and on until he came to the driveway of a plantation. Turning into it, he passed the highbarred corral, then the low, rambling house. He went on for another mile before bringing the car to a stop before steep, wooden steps that descended the cliff to the sea.
He sprang out of the car with a grace and swiftness one would not have expected from such a giant of a man. His feet, like his eyes and mouth, were small for the rest of him, and now they carried him softly, stealthily down the wooden steps even though there was no reason for quiet or secrecy. Yet he could not have walked any other way. Fondly, caressingly he touched the leather of the bull whip wrapped around his bulging waist.
Reaching the pier at the bottom of the steps, he turned once more to look at the point of land around which his stepbrotherâs boat must come. This time he saw it, and his short steps quickened as he made his way to his own launch, the
Sea Queen
.
Quickly he had her unmoored and the motor racing. He started out to sea, following the launch which was now less than a mile away. The chase had entered its final stage. He would follow his stepbrother, the boy and the foal to wherever they were going and then â¦
B LACK W ORLD
9
For more than three hours he stayed far behind the launch; it was only a tiny speck on the horizon. But this was enough for him to know they were headed for Azul Island. Until now the giant had not been certain
âWell, we did everything we wanted to do,â he told Pitch as the launchâs motor burst into a roar. âAnd we neednât have worried about meeting Tom. My guess is that he did go to South America and itâll be a long, long time before you see him again.â
âYes,â Pitch agreed, âyouâre probably right. We just caused ourselves needless worry. It wasnât even necessary for me to have given you the whole story on Tom.â
âBut Iâm glad you did, Pitch. Iâm in this as much as you are, you know.â
Pitch headed the launch toward the open sea.
Neither he nor Steve looked back at the wharf, for now their eyes and thoughts were only for Azul Island. But if either
had
turned, he might have seen the Fordpull out of the line of parked cars on the wharf. It was a sedan, a two-door sedan, and its color was maroon.
Now it sped down the wharf, its motor racing, its horn blaring. The stevedores jumped out of the carâs way, yelling; but when they saw the giant figure that dwarfed the wheel, they shut their mouths tight. They knew this man well. They wanted to have no trouble with Tom Pitcher.
He turned right when he came off the wharf, slowing down only because of a car directly ahead of him. He cursed, and his heavy hand never left the horn. He brought his front bumper hard against the car ahead. Startled, the driver looked back, saw Tomâs face, and went faster.
Tom Pitcher went faster and faster as he tore through the outskirts of town and entered open country. Now his huge face showed no emotion at all; it held the deathly stillness and unnaturalness of a theatrical mask. A pallor showed beneath his tanned skin. His mouth was a thin, hard scratch of red, too small for the rest of him, as were his eyes. They were beady, snakelike â¦Â staring now at the road ahead without actually seeing it. He wore no hat and his black hair stood bristling straight, adding more inches to his giantâs height. His white sleeveless shirt was open at the throat, disclosing his thick bull neck.
He turned down a dirt lane without slackening his speed. Fields of cane were on his left, the sea on his right. He glanced at the open water just once and momentarily his eyes came alive.
He drove on and on until he came to the driveway of a plantation. Turning into it, he passed the highbarred corral, then the low, rambling house. He went on for another mile before bringing the car to a stop before steep, wooden steps that descended the cliff to the sea.
He sprang out of the car with a grace and swiftness one would not have expected from such a giant of a man. His feet, like his eyes and mouth, were small for the rest of him, and now they carried him softly, stealthily down the wooden steps even though there was no reason for quiet or secrecy. Yet he could not have walked any other way. Fondly, caressingly he touched the leather of the bull whip wrapped around his bulging waist.
Reaching the pier at the bottom of the steps, he turned once more to look at the point of land around which his stepbrotherâs boat must come. This time he saw it, and his short steps quickened as he made his way to his own launch, the
Sea Queen
.
Quickly he had her unmoored and the motor racing. He started out to sea, following the launch which was now less than a mile away. The chase had entered its final stage. He would follow his stepbrother, the boy and the foal to wherever they were going and then â¦
B LACK W ORLD
9
For more than three hours he stayed far behind the launch; it was only a tiny speck on the horizon. But this was enough for him to know they were headed for Azul Island. Until now the giant had not been certain
Similar Books
