|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmeie
 

en lying
dormant for a few hours in her uneasy and prostrate body. "What
time is it?" she faltered out.
"Dawn," pronounced the imperturbable voice at the door. It seemed
to her that it was a word that could make any heart sink with
apprehension. Dawn! She stood appalled. And the toneless voice
outside the door insisted:
"You must have Tom's watch there!"
"I haven't seen it," she cried as if tormented by a dream.
"Look in that desk thing. If you push open the shutter you will
be able to see."
Mrs. Travers became aware of the profound darkness of the cabin.
Jorgenson heard her staggering in there. After a moment a woman's
voice, which struck even him as strange, said in faint tones:
"I have it. It's stopped."
"It doesn't matter. I don't want to know the time. There should
be a key about. See it anywhere?"
"Yes, it's fastened to the watch," the dazed voice answered from
within. Jorgenson waited before making his request. "Will you
pass it out to me? There's precious little time left now!"
The door flew open, which was certainly something Jorgenson had
not expected. He had expected but a hand with the watch protruded
through a narrow crack, But he didn't start back or give any
other sign of surprise at seeing Mrs. Traversyilai：
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|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmfan