Packard was the one I told you about who was killed by his boat's-crew.
He says the Port Adams crowd is out--fifty of them, in big canoes--and
camping on his beach. They've killed half a dozen of his pigs already,
and seem to be looking for trouble. And he's afraid they may connect
with the fifteen runaways from Lunga."
"In which case?" she queried.
"In which case Billy Pape will be compelled to send Boucher's successor.
It's Pape's station, you know. I wish I knew what to do. I don't like
to leave you here alone."
"Take me along then."
He smiled and shook his head.
"Then you'd better take my men along," she advised. "They're good shots,
and they're not afraid of anything--except Utami, and he's afraid of
ghosts."
The big bell was rung, and fifty black boys carried the whale-boat down
to the water. The regular boat's-crew manned her, and Matauare and three
other Tahitians, belted with cartridges and armed with rifles, sat in the
stern-sheets where Sheldon stood at the steering-oar.
"My, I wish I could go with you," Joan said wistfully, as the boat shoved
off.
Sheldon shook his head.
"I'm as good as a man," she urged.
"You really are needed here," he replied.
"There's that Lunga crowd; they might reach the coast right here, and
with both of us absent rush the plantation.
Pages:
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117