For an hour they dodged and turned and twisted back and forth and around, and hunted each other among the orderly palms.

They caught fleeting glimpses of each other and chanced flying shots which were without result.

On a grassy shelter behind a tree, Sheldon came upon where Tudor had rested and smoked a cigarette.

The pressed grass showed where he had sat.

To one side lay the cigarette stump and the charred match which had lighted it.