She took another lingering look at the _Martha_, then turned to Sheldon.

"You are a slovenly lot down here when it comes to boats--most of you
are, any way. Christian Young is all right though, Munster has a slap-
dash style about him, and they do say old Nielsen was a crackerjack. But
with the rest I've seen, there's no dash, no go, no cleverness, no real
sailor's pride. It's all humdrum, and podgy, and slow-going, any going
so long as you get there heaven knows when. But some day I'll show you
how the _Martha_ should be handled. I'll break out anchor and get under
way in a speed and style that will make your head hum; and I'll bring her
alongside the wharf at Guvutu without dropping anchor and running a
line."

She came to a breathless pause, and then broke into laughter, directed,
he could see, against herself.

"Old Kinross is setting that fisherman's staysail," he remarked quietly.

"No!" she cried incredulously, swiftly looking, then running for the
telescope.

She regarded the manoeuvre steadily through the glass, and Sheldon,
watching her face, could see that the skipper was not making a success of
it.

She finally lowered the glass with a groan.

"He's made a mess of it," she said, "and now he's trying it over again.
And a man like that is put in charge of a fairy like the _Martha_! Well,
it's a good argument against marriage, that's all. No, I won't look any
more. Come on in and play a steady, conservative game of billiards with
me. And after that I'm going to saddle up and go after pigeons. Will
you come along?"

An hour later, just as they were riding out of the compound, Joan turned
in the saddle for a last look at the _Martha_, a distant speck well over
toward the Florida coast.

"Won't Tudor be surprised when he finds we own the _Martha_?" she
laughed. "Think of it! If he doesn't strike pay-dirt he'll have to buy
a steamer-passage to get away from the Solomons."

Still laughing gaily, she rode through the gate. But suddenly her
laughter broke flatly and she reined in the mare. Sheldon glanced at her
sharply, and noted her face mottling, even as he looked, and turning
orange and green.

"It's the fever," she said. "I'll have to turn back."

By the time they were in the compound she was shivering and shaking, and
he had to help her from her horse.

"Funny, isn't it?" she said with chattering teeth. "Like seasickness--not
serious, but horribly miserable while it lasts. I'm