"Have you ever hunted pearls?"

"In a second-hand sort of way. But if pearls are his game, why commit
piracy when he could have chartered a tramp to carry his crew? There's
more than one old bucket hereabouts ready to his hand for coal and
stores. He'll need a shoe spoon to get inside or by the Sulu fleets, since
the oyster has been pretty well neglected these five years, and every
official pearler will be hiking down there. But it requires a certain
amount of capital and a stack of officially stamped paper, and I don't
fancy Cunningham has either."

Cleigh smiled dryly, but offered no comment. He knew all about
Cunningham's capital.

"Did he say anything about being picked up by another boat?" asked
Dennison.

"No," answered Jane. "But I don't believe it will be hard for me to make
him tell me that. I believe that he will keep his word, too."

"Jane, he has broken the law of the sea. I don't know what the penalty is
these days, but it used to be hanging to the yard-arm. He won't be
particular about his word if by breaking it he can save his skin. He's
been blarneying you. You've let his plausible tongue and handsome face
befog you."

"That is not true!" she flared. Afterward she wondered what caused the
flash of perversity. "And I resent your inference!" she added with
uplifted chin.

Dennison whirled her about savagely, stared into her eyes, then walked to
the companion, up which he disappeared. This rudeness astonished her
profoundly. She appealed silently to the father.

"We are riding a volcano," said Cleigh. "I'm not sure but he's setting
some trap for you. He may need you as a witness for the defense. Of course
I can't control your actions, but it would relieve me immensely if you'd
give him a wide berth."

"He was not the one who brought me aboard."

"No. And the more I look at it, the more I am convinced that you came on
board of your own volition. You had two or three good opportunities to
call for assistance."

"You believe that?"

"I've as much right to believe that as you have that Cunningham will keep
his word."

"Oh!" she cried, but it was an outburst of anger. And it had a peculiar
twist, too. She was furious because both father and son were partly
correct; and yet there was no diminution of that trust she was putting in
Cunningham. "Next you'll be hinting that I'm in collusion with him!"

"No. Only he is an extraordinarily fascinating rogue, and you are wearing
the tinted goggles of