Isbel was standing up and sculling with a single oar from the stern.
"I say," said Schumer, "what has that girl been doing over at the fishing ground?"
"I don't know," said Floyd, shading his eyes; "didn't know she had gone there. She must have gone to the schooner and taken the dinghy."
"Well," said Schumer, "that won't do. I don't want her palling up with those labor hands; they are her own people, and she knows a lot too much about us and our affairs to let her get thick with them. She knows where all the trade is cached, for one thing. Besides, she hasn't been the same for a long while. I can't get a word out of her."
"She has been different ever since you hanged that chap," said Floyd.
"Well, she'll have to change her tune, or she'll see the rough side of me," replied the other. "I'm not going to stand any Kanaka tricks, and I've shown them that already."
"Seems to me," said Floyd, "that all you have done by that hanging business is to turn Isbel against us."
Schumer did not reply. He was walking down to the lagoon edge at the point where the little boat was preparing to beach.
"Hi," cried he, "what have you been doing in that boat?"
"Been to the fishing grounds," replied the girl, as the dinghy took the sand and she stepped out into a foot of water and helped Schumer to haul the boat up; "been to see the men; they are my people."