and the sturdy body
bent awkwardly in exaggerated salute. Then a twinkle shone in the keen
blue eyes, and Bill Blunt grinned: "Shootin', d' ye say, sir? Ain't
goin' to tell me fun's afoot, be ye? 'T would be too good!"

"Quite likely, Blunt. But you get aboard. If you get on the right side
of the mate, perhaps I'll make you acting second mate when I come back."
This apparently hasty half-promise was made with good reason. Barry saw
a possible acquisition in the typical old sailor and made the partial
promise as the best and quickest means of discovering what the man had
in him. If good, he would prove himself in hope of the reward; if
worthless, Rolfe could be depended on to find it out. He put a question
as the man started off: "Tell me how far is the Mission?"

"Just through that bamboo thicket, Cap'n. Ain't twenty fathom away.
That's it," he sang out, as Barry thrust aside the close-standing stems.

The skipper entered the thicket, and the closing stems shut out the
roaring song with which Bill Blunt struck off for the ship. Almost
before he was aware of the proximity of any habitation, he stumbled out
of the brake into a neat, prosperous garden, surrounding a cluster of
clean frame huts all under one immense galvanized-iron roof. A small
number of natives worked desultorily among the plants, and farther off a
stooping figure in a white dress and wide sunbonnet straightened up at
the skipper's approach.

Barry blushed like a big boy and halted, for the lifted sunbonnet
revealed the piquant face of Natalie Sheldon, and her white teeth
gleamed in a rippling smile as she recognized her visitor.

"Welcome, Captain Barry," she cried, stepping into the path and
approaching him. "I'm afraid I can't be very hospitable, for all our men
folks are busy in the village. I have to make a visit myself, but I
shall be glad to have your company if you care to come."

Big Jack Barry, the man who remained cold and unruffled in vital
physical crises, met this second encounter with a very unformidable girl
in different manner from the first. His mouth opened to reply and
remained open; his eyes burned with the up-rushing flood that suffused
his bronzed face, and the roots of his hair tingled to the blush. Then
he realized that he was staring rudely at Miss Sheldon and had not yet
responded to her greeting. He discovered, too, that the brim of his hat
was suffering grievous damage in the grip of his nervously twisting
fingers, and