At other times he lifted his head and stared with swimming eyes at the cocoanut palms that reeled and swung in the shimmering heat.

He was clad in a thin undershirt and a strip of cotton cloth, that wrapped about his waist and descended to his knees.

On his head was a battered Stetson, known to the trade as a Baden-Powell.

About his middle was strapped a belt, which carried a large-calibred automatic pistol and several spare clips, loaded and ready for quick work.
The rear was brought up by a black boy of fourteen or fifteen, who carried medicine bottles, a pail of hot water, and various other hospital appurtenances.

They passed out of the compound through a small wicker gate, and went on under the blazing sun, winding about among new-planted cocoanuts that threw no shade.