"Precisely. Well, as I couldn't insult you by calling you less than twice as brave as the German, that means that no little trouble that's going on between here and Mokki will frighten you in the very least. Is that good argument?"
"Oh, go on, Miss. Twist me round your finger. I like it. Besides it isn't the first time I've played a neck-or-nothing game. But I'm hanged if I see that it's an amusement for a pretty young lady like you."
Captain Image was speaking in plain earnest, and he was a man who knew. Kate O'Neill was seized with a sudden qualm. Was she right to force on this risk? Would the Okky-men attack, or could they bring off the cargo successfully? Nobody but herself seemed to see a shadow of chance for success. And these others were all old Coasters against whom she was setting up her will.
But when she thought of giving way and turning back the cost of retreat promptly leaped up and faced her in plain figures. O'Neill and Craven were heavily involved, how heavily no one knew but old white-haired Crewdson and herself. The Mokki oil that she had bought so cheap would save them. Without it there would be bankruptcy, and, what she dreaded even more, the contemptuous finger of Liverpool pointed at the woman who had taken upon herself a man's responsibilities and broken down beneath them.
These thoughts dinned through her again and again, but outwardly her face smiled and her lips spoke lightly.
"Now, it is nice of you to give me a promise like that, Captain."
"Lake what?"
"To say that you'll go on till my nerves give way. Well, let it be so. I promise to give you news of it the moment I'm frightened. Look, there's an omen for you to read to me. The Okky-men in that first war canoe are all standing up and waving their spears. What does that mean, I wonder?"