"Can't ye let me have the gun?"
"No." Trask walked away from Jarrow, satisfied that the captain would take no action so long as there was a possibility of continuing the argument.
Not long afterward, while the three in the cabin were playing cards and Tom was preparing lunch, Jarrow came shambling aft, and without a word went over the side and into the long boat. When Trask went out on deck the captain was pulling slowly for the shore, making a course to land near where Dinshaw was toiling in the broiling sun at his sand piling.
All hands deserted the cabin to see what would happen. As the boat approached the beach, Doc was seen to leave those about the fire, and proceed toward Dinshaw, with the avowed purpose of heading the captain off.
Jarrow made his way leisurely, and ran the boat on the shingle. He stood watching Doc and waiting for him, and when the steward had come close and stopped as if in doubt as to what the captain's attitude would be, Jarrow beckoned him on with a peremptory gesture.
There was a parley, which ended with Doc returning to the fire, and then Jarrow approached Dinshaw. The old man looked up and waved his hand as if pointing out the result of his labours.
Jarrow kicked the sand, and got down to examine it. Then he said something to Dinshaw, and the latter got up and followed him obediently to the boat. Soon they were heading back for the schooner, Dinshaw serving an oar.
"What's the news?" asked Trask, as the boat drew near.
"They want to come back," said Jarrow. "Peth sends word that if you'll take 'em, they'll return to duty if you'll call it square. Seems like they've tried a wrinkle of burnin' the sand to git gold, but it won't work, an' they're plumb disgusted."
"We won't take Peth's word about anything," said Trask.