“It was just what I was going to volunteer,” Denby answered. “I never dreamed all this muss would be kicked up over a joke. You see, in a way I consider myself responsible for it.”
“So am I responsible,” Wallenstein broke in.
“But I started it,” the supercargo urged.
“Maybe you did, but I carried it along.”
“And Koho finished it,” Grief said.
“At any rate, I, too, shall remain,” said the German.
“I thought you were coming to Guvutu with me,” Grief protested.
“I was. But this is my jurisdiction, partly, and I have made a fool of myself in it completely. I shall remain and help get things straight again.”
At Guvutu, Grief sent full instructions to McTavish by a recruiting ketch which was just starting for Malaita. Captain Ward sailed in the Wonder for the Santa Cruz Islands; and Grief, borrowing a whaleboat and a crew of black prisoners from the British Resident, crossed the channel to Guadalcanar, to examine the grass lands back of Penduffryn.
Three weeks later, with a free sheet and a lusty breeze, he threaded the coral patches and surged up the smooth water to Guvutu anchorage. The harbour was deserted, save for a small ketch which lay close in to the shore reef. Grief recognized it as the Wanda. She had evidently just got in by the Tulagi Passage, for her black crew was still at work furling the sails. As he rounded alongside, McTavish himself extended a hand to help him over the rail.