"If you do not come, we shall fetch you. It is for you to say. If we have to fetch you, it will make trouble."
Old Maru's axe swung gently to and fro, to and fro, as though hungering to bite, but doubtful.
"That would not serve you, Maru," said Blair quietly. "Though you cut me in pieces, the rest would come and you would suffer the more. The old times are past. We have come to give you better times. Peace you shall have, though we have to bring it with club and spear."
And just then Long Tom on the yacht bellowed his tremendous note, and the brown men looked round apprehensively.
"That is my big canoe speaking," said Blair. "But it is only a warning. It can strike as hard as it talks. Will you save trouble by coming, Maru?"
"I will not go."
"Then we shall come for you. I am sorry; but the wrong-doing is yours.... Let no man lift his hand, or worse will follow," he said, as a restless movement rustled among them. Then eyeing them steadily, he passed through, not sure at what moment axe or club might fall on his head. But so high was his look that no man, even of those he had passed, found courage for the blow, and he walked down to the beach alone.
"I'm mighty glad to see you back whole," said Cathie, as Blair swung up on deck. "I saw their clubs through the glass, and I misdoubted them. They wouldn't come?"
"No, they wouldn't come, so I promised to fetch them. Now we'll get on, captain. First to land our passengers on Kapaa'a, and then as we decided last night."
Ha'o and the rest were mightily surprised at the size of the Torch's company. But the chief jumped to Blair's views at once.