"Miss Lackland is my partner and part-owner of Berande," Sheldon
interrupted.
"So she said," the irate skipper dashed on. "But she had no papers
to show for it. How was I to know? And then there was that load
of ivory nuts-eight tons of them."
"For heaven's sake begin at the--" Sheldon tried to interrupt.
"And then she's hired them drunken loafers, three of the worst
scoundrels that ever disgraced the Solomons--fifteen quid a month
each--what d'ye think of that? And sailed away with them, too!
Phew!--You might give me a drink. The missionary won't mind. I've
been on his teetotal hooker four days now, and I'm perishing."
Dr. Welshmere nodded in reply to Sheldon's look of inquiry, and
Viaburi was dispatched for the whisky and siphons.
"It is evident, Captain Oleson," Sheldon remarked to that refreshed
mariner, "that Miss Lackland has run away with your boat. Now
please give a plain statement of what occurred."
"Right O; here goes. I'd just come in on the Flibberty. She was
on board before I dropped the hook--in that whale-boat of hers with
her gang of Tahiti heathens--that big Adamu Adam and the rest.
'Don't drop the anchor, Captain Oleson,' she sang out. 'I want you
to get under way for Poonga-Poonga.' I looked to see if she'd been
drinking. What was I to think? I was rounding up at the time,
alongside the shoal--a ticklish place--headsails running down and
losing way, so I says, 'Excuse me, Miss Lackland,' and yells
for'ard, 'Let go!'
"'You might have listened to me and saved yourself trouble,' says
she, climbing over the rail and squinting along for'ard and seeing
the first shackle flip out and stop. 'There's fifteen fathom,'
says she; 'you may as well turn your men to and heave up.'
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