"
"If you are really bent upon going--" Sheldon began.
"That's settled long ago," she answered shortly. "I'm going to pack now.
But I'll tell you what you can do for me--issue some tobacco and other
stuff they want to my men."
An hour later the three men had shaken hands with Joan down on the beach.
She gave the signal, and the boat shoved off, six men at the oars, the
seventh man for'ard, and Adamu Adam at the steering-sweep. Joan was
standing up in the stern-sheets, reiterating her good-byes--a slim figure
of a woman in the tight-fitting jacket she had worn ashore from the
wreck, the long-barrelled Colt's revolver hanging from the loose belt
around her waist, her clear-cut face like a boy's under the Stetson hat
that failed to conceal the heavy masses of hair beneath.
"You'd better get into shelter," she called to them. "There's a big
squall coming. And I hope you've got plenty of chain out, Captain Young.
Good-bye! Good-bye, everybody!"
Her last words came out of the darkness, which wrapped itself solidly
about the boat. Yet they continued to stare into the blackness in the
direction in which the boat had disappeared, listening to the steady
click of the oars in the rowlocks until it faded away and ceased.
"She is only a girl," Christian Young said with slow solemnity.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174