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at Apia to one of the Weir Line freighters. It's a long way

around, but still it would save time."



"This time the Upolu is going straight to Sydney," Young explained.

"She's going to dry-dock, you see; and you can catch her as late as



five to-morrow afternoon--at least, so her first officer told me."

"But I've got to go to Guvutu first." Joan looked at the men with



a whimsical expression. "I've some shopping to do. I can't wear

these Berande curtains into Sydney. I must buy cloth at Guvutu and



make myself a dress during the voyage down. I'll start

immediately--in an hour. Lalaperu, you bring 'm one fella Adamu



Adam along me. Tell 'm that fella Ornfiri make 'm kai-kai take

along whale-boat." She rose to her feet, looking at Sheldon. "And



you, please, have the boys carry down the whale-boat--my boat, you

know. I'll be off in an hour."



Both Sheldon and Tudor looked at their watches.

"It's an all-night row," Sheldon said. "You might wait till



morning--"

"And miss my shopping? No, thank you. Besides, the Upolu is not a



regular passenger steamer, and she is just as liable to sail ahead

of time as on time. And from what I hear about those Guvutu



sybarites, the best time to shop will be in the morning. And now

you'll have to excuse me, for I've got to pack."



"I'll go over with you," Sheldon announced.

"Let me run you over in the Minerva," said Young.



She shook her head laughingly.

"I'm going in the whale-boat. One would think, from all your



solicitude, that I'd never been away from home before. You, Mr.

Sheldon, as my partner, I cannot permit to desert Berande and your



work out of a mistaken notion of courtesy. If you won't permit me

to be skipper, I won't permit your galivanting over the sea as



protector of young women who don't need protection. And as for

you, Captain Young, you know very well that you just left Guvutu



this morning, that you are bound for Marau, and that you said

yourself that in two hours you are getting under way again."



"But may I not see you safely across?" Tudor asked, a pleading note

in his voice that rasped on Sheldon's nerves.



"No, no, and again no," she cried. "You've all got your work to

do, and so have I. I came to the Solomons to work, not to be



escorted about like a doll. For that matter, here's my escort, and

there are seven more like him."



Adamu Adam stood beside her, towering above her, as he towered

above the three white men. The clinging cotton undershirt he wore



could not hide the bulge of his tremendous muscles.

"Look at his fist," said Tudor. "I'd hate to receive a punch from



it."

"I don't blame you." Joan laughed reminiscently. "I saw him hit



the captain of a Swedish bark on the beach at Levuka, in the Fijis.

It was the captain's fault. I saw it all myself, and it was



splendid. Adamu only hit him once, and he broke the man's arm.

You remember, Adamu?"



The big Tahitian smiled and nodded, his black eyes, soft and deer-

like, seeming to give the lie to so belligerent a nature.



"We start in an hour in the whale-boat for Guvutu, big brother,"

Joan said to him. "Tell your brothers, all of them, so that they



can get ready. We catch the Upolu for Sydney. You will all come

along, and sail back to the Solomons in the new schooner. Take



your extra shirts and dungarees along. Plenty cold weather down

there. Now run along, and tell them to hurry. Leave the guns



behind. Turn them over to Mr. Sheldon. We won't need them."

"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!"




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