"Yes, I know, it's hard luck. Especially with Marvin in the sulks and Carlisle sick," said Ned Burford, wiping his eyes. "But the next time you start diplomatic negotiations, you had better leave that dog at home. I'm going over to the house-boat to tell Mr. Carlisle. Poor sick fellow, this story will amuse him if anything can."
He jumped into the launch. A minute later Rod brought it alongside the house-boat and Burford disappeared within.
"Mr. Carlisle, sir!" They heard his laughing voice at the chief's state-room door. "May I come in? Will I disturb you if I tell you a good joke on Hallowell?"
There was a pause. Then came a rush of feet. Burford dashed from the cabin and confronted Rod and Marian. His face was very white.
"Hallowell! Come aboard, quick!" he said, in a shaking voice. "Mr. Carlisle is terribly ill. He's lying there looking like death; he couldn't even speak to me. Hurry!"
CHAPTER V
GOOSE-GREASE AND DIPLOMACY
Roderick leaped aboard. Marian followed, trembling with fear.
Mr. Carlisle lay in his seaman's hammock beside the window. His gaunt hands were like ice. His lean face was ashen gray. But he nodded weakly and put out a shaking, courteous hand.
"Too bad to alarm you thus," he gasped. "I—I was afraid of this. Malaria plays ugly tricks with a man's heart now and then. You'd better ship me to the hospital at Saint Louis. They can patch me up in a week probably. Only, the sooner you can get me there, the better."