"That's the stuff, boys. It's the way I like to hear men talk. It shows you've got the sand. Take it from me, you'll never be sorry you stuck."
She walked forward and passed familiarly among them while the Blagg faction melted slowly away and straggled down the dock in the direction of the town.
Gregory stood with McCoy while the excitement quieted down and Dickie despatched the fishing-boats on their accustomed morning cruise.
"Well, I'll say you've done wonders," McCoy was saying. "Who would ever have thought that Dick would have given in?"
Gregory nodded weakly. "I was rather surprised myself," he admitted.
McCoy looked at his watch. "I must go," he said. "It's almost time to blow the whistle. Coming up soon?"
Gregory promised to be on hand as soon as he got his breakfast and McCoy hurried off. When the last of her remaining men had left the dock, Gregory noticed the girl coming toward him. Now he would learn the reason for her sudden change of mind. He listened eagerly for the explanation.
Dickie Lang passed a slim brown hand slowly over her forehead and replaced a tousled lock of red-brown hair.
"Now," she said calmly, "when can you get me my men?"