The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

the stock would easily bring fifty thousand dollars. It has cost me less than ten. And I had only twenty-five hundred to start with at the very beginning. And there is the good will.

      “If Newton wants to come—as he has the right to and as your representative—he can bear half the expense. Mr. Lyman has a master’s certificate. I want him to have command of the expedition. It seems to me he has earned it—and the sixteenth share I offered him in the pearls if they are recovered—aside from having given us the position of the Golden Dolphin. Please do not protest, Mr. Lyman. It is purely business. I am sure uncle would consider such a bonus only fair. And it can come out of the Whiting share.” Stephen Foster got up and walked up and down the room.

      “I wash my hands of it,” he declared. “I consider it folly, though I shall be more than happy if you find your father, glad also to get my returns from the original investment. Make your own plans. Newton, are you coming with me? I suppose not. You’ll be wanting to start tomorrow night, I imagine.” He seemed to be trying to be heavily humorous.

      “The day after tomorrow,” said Kitty. “There are my own things to transfer to storage. Not much to pack to take with us. We are going to San Francisco to charter a ship.”

      “Why San Francisco? None of my business, of course. But—”

      “Mr. Lyman recommends it, uncle. It will save time and expense.”

      Stephen Foster shrugged.

      “Then I’ll be going,” he said. “Send back the car for you, son?”

      “I don’t believe Kitty and Lynda ought to be left alone in this house, Father. There’s only Ellen Martin, After Lyman’s experience—”

      “It might make us—me, at all events—seem safer if both of you stayed. You could share the guest room,” suggested Lynda to Lyman. “I imagine I am sufficient chaperone. As for Ellen, I know she has been listening at the door. It is a trait that she regards as a privilege. She’ll need protection anyway.”

      “If you would,” said Kitty Whiting. The young men looked at each other. Whatever their thoughts, neither could well demur. “But your hand?” she said to Jim.

      “I’ve had a worse one,” he answered. “I’ll see a doctor in the morning.”

      “Then I’ll send your things over from the hotel,” said Foster. “And some duds for you, Newton. See you sometime tomorrow, I suppose. Good night, you pack of adventurers.”

      With his exit he again achieved a degree of bluff humanity. Again Lyman was in doubt. Foster reappeared, hat in hand.

      “About those figures,” he said. “I’d recommend you take means to conceal them, Kitty. Even from Newton here, until the time comes. He might talk in his sleep. Lyman, you know them, too. Don’t let anybody hypnotize you.” His tone was ironical; it might have once more been meant for humor.

      “I don’t want to know them, Kit,” said Newton as the door closed.

      “I am going to mail that diary ahead,” she said. “I suppose we make certain ports of call, Mr. Lyman, for water and provisions?”

      There was a globe in the stockroom under the portrait of Kitty’s grandfather. They set this on the table and sat about it. Ellen, discovered suspiciously close to the door between them and the kitchen, was sent packing without excuse for lingering.

      “I packed her off for a walk,” said Kitty. “She’s probably heard more than is good for her. If curiosity was a fatal disease, Ellen would have died long ago. The funny part is that she appears to think herself absolutely entitled to knowledge of everything that happens, and usually offers her opinion freely.”

      “Taking her along?” asked Newton.

      “I’ll give her the chance, but I don’t believe she’ll go. She’s got some love affair on. She’s close-mouthed enough about that; but I understand he’s younger than she is. She has some money saved up—”

      “And the bounder is after that. Sure isn’t her looks.”

      Lynda Warner flushed. Jim Lyman realized the sensitiveness that lay behind her plain exterior and wanted to kick Newton for his lack of tact.

      Kitty Whiting broke up the awkwardness. “How about the itinerary,” she asked.

      “We would naturally stop at Hawaii,” said Lyman. He had tacitly accepted command. Since the girl was determined to go, and since he was persuaded that there were others determined to thwart her, he had made up his mind to take the trip. The question of the share could rest. It was not an unusual offer, after all. He wanted to pick his own crew, remembering the letters of Captain Whiting.

      “Two thousand and ninety-eight miles from San Francisco to Honolulu,” he went on. “Call it ten days with power equal to eight knots. We must get a boat with an engine, or we may drift for weeks trying to pass the line. The run to Suva in the Fijis is about twenty-seven hundred. That would be fourteen days more, full speed. But we do not know what capacity we will have for gasoline and we want to sail when the wind favors us. We ought to get a schooner capable of making ten to twelve knots with wind abeam or astern. Fourteen and ten. Call it a month. We should fetch Suva in a month, outside of stopovers or delays from engine trouble. Hardly from storms at this time of the year. There may be headwinds, of course.

      “Our real trip begins at Suva. We should take on water and supplies there, and I should like to add to the crew with native boys. They will be wanted to handle the landing boats. They’ll be better for many of our purposes than whites such as we are likely to get. We’ll ship a working crew at San Francisco.”

      “How about arms?” asked Newton.

      “You said there were no natives, but—”

      “It is best to go prepared,” said Lyman gravely. “I was only ashore a little while and at one place. That is one reason why I did not want to urge Miss Whiting to go.”

      “There were women in the war,” she said. “I am not afraid of taking the same risks as a man. And I fancy I could shoot on occasion. We can practice on the way down.”

      Jim had other reasons he could have advanced, but he forbore. The pluck of the girl was wonderful. He had no doubt of her ability to hold her own outside of sheer strength. But the thought of what might happen to her if they fell among the savage tribes locked his jaws tightly and cemented his resolve.

      It was midnight when they broke up. The two women got together a little supper. The car arrived with a bag for Newton and Jim’s pitiful belongings. He was glad that he possessed a decent suit of pajamas. Such things did not matter, but though much of his first antagonism toward Newton Foster had disappeared, he was human enough not to want to appear at any special disadvantage.

      He took a hot bath, somewhat clumsily. Newton shoved his head into their bathroom and asked if he could help.

      “Jupiter, but you’re banged up!” he said. “I imagine you put up a tidy scrap, Lyman. I envy you your muscles. I’m soft as a rag doll. I’d like to shake hands with you as soon as your fin gets in shape. Over this trip, you know. Mighty glad you’re going to be along. It’s a pretty serious proposition when you come to think of it. For Kitty—and Lynda—I mean. It’s up to you and me to look out for them. And you’ll have to make a sailor out of me. So far I’m not a shining light in any profession. But I’m willing to play general utility.”

      It was impossible to hold much of a grudge after that speech. It began to look as if there was good stuff in Newton Foster after all. With his father Jim still reserved judgment.

      “Here’s my left hand on it, for the time being,” he said. And they turned in together.

      There was no alarm in the night. The next morning Jim went to see Dr. Dimmock, the purchaser of the antique store arrived and Ellen Martin gave notice to quit.

      VI

      Under Way

      The