Scott felt as though he had earned a rest and when he had washed the breakfast dishes he stretched out in a steamer-chair on the little front porch for a good loaf.
The waves were lapping soothingly on the beach, the line of islands still shimmered in the sunshine on the opposite side of the lagoon, and a little oyster schooner glided lazily across the picture. It was almost the identical picture at which Scott had looked with impatient eyes just nine days before. Just nine days! That was all it was and yet how much had happened since then and how different everything looked now.
Then he had been a stranger in a strange land, very much at sea, and wondering what he had to do. Now it seemed as though he was an old inhabitant thoroughly familiar with the country and the ways of the people. And yet how very little he had really seen. Most of his time had been spent in the swamp and there were hundreds of things outside he wanted to know about. Probably the Washington office would get Mr. Graham’s report in another day or two and would wire him to return at once to his station in the Southwest. He wanted to go back there eventually, but he did wish that they would give him a few weeks longer there in the South to look about him.
All afternoon he just sat there on the porch and dreamed.
About supper time Mr. Graham returned in a high good humor. He shouted to Scott merrily as he rode into the yard and strode up the little oyster-shell walk with buoyant step.
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