Slade looked curiously at both the launch and her tow. "You've been getting hold of a gold mine of sorts, I hear. By the way, as you've arranged to start work as my son-in-law, I suppose I ought to get more familiar and call you Henry, or whatever it is."
"George, as a matter of fact."
"I believe you're right. George is what Laura did say. My mistake. Where is your gold mine?"
"It's tin. And it's up the rivers."
"Oh, keep it dark, my dear fellow, if you like. Not that it makes the smallest odds as far as I am concerned. You'd never catch me sweating after a mine. Besides, as a point of fact, I'm doing pretty well at my present job. Getting rubber properties, you know, for the mysterious Kate."
"Miss O'Neill."
"Oh, certainly, Miss O'Neill, if you prefer it, though I don't see why you need be a prig with me."
"My late employer, you know."
"Ah, of course. And you admired her more than a little, so I gathered from Laura's letters, though she carefully refrained from saying so."
Carter pulled himself through the mosquito bar and hit the edge of the bunk. "Now, look here, Slade, I've known you ever since I've been on the Coast, but this is the first time we've met on the new footing. I don't want to quarrel with my prospective father-in-law, but, by Christopher, if you don't leave Miss O'Neill out of the tale as far as I'm concerned, there's going to be a row. Kindly remember I'm engaged to Laura, and intend to marry her whether you like it or whether you don't."