"Now, Miles, if you give me the bearings of the Simpson, I'll put you and her and her man ashore at Unalaska, all shipshape. I give you my solemn word on it, and you know my word means something; whatever else I do, I don't break my word! By the time we reach Unalaska you'll understand pretty well how we're going to work on things. The day we hit Unimak Pass I'll ask you once more—and only once. If you refuse, I'll set to work on the girl—or Frenchy will. You think it over, Miles. You think it over hard, blast you! Now that she's here, I'm going to make you talk!"
Pontifex knocked out his pipe and that of Hathaway. Then he went on deck.
In the meantime his good wife was visiting the Dennis cabin. Florence, for all her slim frailness, was untouched by mal-de-mer, and greeted the Missus smilingly. Tom Dennis, sitting on the lower bunk, managed a weak grin. He was rapidly growing better.
"The steward brought yeou breakfast?" said the Missus, "Is Mr. Dennis feeling better?"
"Quite, I think," responded Florence. "Surely we're not at sea?"
Mrs. Pontifex nodded. "Oh, yes, we're well aoutside Flattery."
"And what are we doing there?" demanded Tom Dennis in surprise.
"Making abaout nine knots," coolly returned the Missus, transfixing him with her deep cold eyes. "Never mind discussing it naow. If yeou folks will show up in the cabin at four bells, we'll talk it aout!"
"But what does it mean?" Florence, a little pale, laid her hand upon the woman's arm. Her eyes searched the rocklike features with anxious pleading. "Won't you please tell me? There's nothing wrong?"
"Nothing wrong at all, dearie." Mrs. Pontifex patted the girl's hand and smiled a flinty smile. "It means money in all our pockets, that's what it means—aye, in yours, too! So don't think too hard of us for running off to sea with yeou young folks until ye know all abaout it.