“Comforting. I’ll use it, Hackett.”
Mellenger walked up into the mission house veranda and sat down. “It’s as cool here as anywhere,” he reminded Dan. “I’d like to have a chat with you, Dan, before I meet Tamea.”
“Certainly, Mel.”
“Well, while my crew is busy landing the supplies for the mission I’m going up to your house and have a chin-chin with Tamea,” Captain Hackett suggested. “By the way, Mr. Pritchard,” he added innocently, “did you marry her?”
Dan flushed. “Muggridge, in his insane jealousy, refused to perform the ceremony without some sort of a license, procurable God knows where—or when—so we—that is—well, we did the best we could without him.”
The old sea dog went up the path to the hill, chuckling softly.
“Mel,” Dan demanded the instant the captain was out of hearing, “what under the canopy has brought you here?”
“I came to get you and bring you home.”
Dan shook his head. “My home is here, Mel.” He threw out his arm tragically toward the east. “I’m quite through with all of that.”
“Fortunately, you are not. Your private fortune and the business formerly owned by Casson and Pritchard await your return. There’s a hole amounting to approximately half a million dollars in your private fortune but the business is all yours now and intact. As soon as you appear to relieve the receiver of his task of managing your affairs, the court will discharge him.”