esponded to the suggestion that Lund could rise
in Berserker rage and sweep aside all opposition.

It was absurd, of course; his next thought adjusted the balance that had
been weighed down by the compelling quality of the man's vigor but, for
the moment, remembering his earlier simile, Lund appeared a blind Samson
who, by some miracle, could at the last moment destroy his enemies by
pulling down their house--or their ship--about them.

"Carlsen says that the skipper's life is in his hands," he said, still
evading Lund's direct question. "What do you make of that?"

"I don't know what to make of it," answered Lund. "If it is, God help
the skipper! I reckon he's in a bad way. Ennyhow, he's out of it for the
time bein', Rainey. I don't think he'll be present at the meetin' if
he's that ill. Carlsen speaks for him. Count Simms out of it for the
present."

"There's the girl," said Rainey. "I don't believe she wants to marry
Carlsen."

"If she does," said Lund, "she ain't the kind we need worry about.
Carlsen 'ud marry her if he thought it was necessary to git her share by
bein' legal. He may try an' squeeze her to a wedding through the
skipper. Threaten to let her dad die if she don't marry him, likely'll
git the skipper to tie the knot. It 'ud be legal. But if you're
interested about the gal, Rainey, an' I take it you are, I'm tellin' you
that Carlsen'll marry her if it suits his book. If it don't, he won't.
An', if he wins out, he'll take her without botherin' about prayer-books
an' ceremonies. I know his breed. All men are more or less selfish an'
shy on morals, in streaks more or less wide, but that Carlsen's just
plain skunk."

"The men wouldn't permit that," said Rainey tersely. "If Carlsen started
anything like that I'd kill him with my own hands, gun or no gun. And
any white man would help me do it."

"You would, mebbe," said Lund, nodding sagely. "You'd have a try at it.
But you don't know men, matey, not like I do. This ship's got a skipper
now. A sick one, I grant you. But so far he's boss. An' he's the gal's
father. All's usual an' reg'lar. But you turn this schooner into a
free-an'-easy, equal shares-to-all, go-as-you-please outfit, let 'em git
their claws on the gold, an' be on the way home to spend it--for
Carlsen'll let 'em go that far afore he pulls his play, whatever it
is--an' discipline will go by the board.

"Grog'll be served when they feel like it, they'll start gamblin', some
of 'em'll lose