Cynthia joined quite generously in his laugh, notwithstanding its hard
note of ridicule. She had become keenly interested in this man, in spite
of--possibly in consequence of--the rebuffs he so unsparingly
administered. She was not accustomed to rebuffs, this girl with her
delicate, flower-like beauty. They held for her something of the charm
of novelty, and abashed her not at all.
"And you really think you'll catch him?" she questioned, a note of
honest regret in her voice.
"Don't you want him to be caught?"
He pitched his cigarette overboard and turned to her with less of
churlishness in his bearing.
She met his eyes quite frankly.
"I should just love him to get away," she declared, with kindling eyes.
"Oh, I know he's a regular sharper, and he's swindled heaps of
people--I'm one of them, so I know a little about it. He swindled me out
of five hundred dollars, and I can tell you I was mad at first. But now
that he is flying from justice, I'm game enough to want him to get away.
I suppose my sympathies generally lie with the hare, Mr. West. I'm sorry
if it annoys you, but I was created that way."
West was frowning, but he smiled with some cynicism over her last
remarks.
"Besides," she continued, "I couldn't help admiring him. He has a
regular genius for swindling--that man. You'll agree with me there?"
A sudden heavy roll of the vessel pitched her forward before he could
reply.
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