Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/25

troduce an old friend from Hollywood. Tarneverro—will you come here, please?”

The fortune-teller handed a couple of bags to Shelah's chauffeur, and came at once. Jaynes looked at him with some surprise.

“Tarneverro—I want you to meet Alan Jaynes,” the star said.

They shook hands. “Glad to know you,” remarked the Britisher. As he gazed into the other man's face, he experienced a sudden sensation of deep dislike. Here was power; not the power of muscle, which he had himself and could understand; but something more subtle, something uncanny, inexplicable and oddly disturbing. "Sorry, but I must dash along now,” he added.

He disappeared into the crowd, and Julie led them to the waiting car. Tarneverro, it appeared, was stopping at the Grand, and Shelah offered to drop him there.

Presently they were bowling along through Honolulu's streets, under a flaming blue sky. The town was waking to another leisurely day. Men of many races languidly bestirred themselves; at the corner of King Street a boy offered the morning paper, and a fat brown-skinned policeman lazily turned a stop-go sign to let them pass. Shelah Fane, like all passengers newly descended from a ship at this port, felt rather dazzled by the brightness and the color.

“Oh, I shall enjoy this,” she cried. “I've never stayed here longer than one day before. What a relief to be out of the South Seas.”

“But they're romantic, aren't they?” Julie asked.

“The illusions of youth,” the star shrugged. “I