oner built accordin' to my own ideas. Have a
kicker engine in it, mebbe, an' go round the world. What's the use of
livin' on it an' not knowin' it by sight? Books and pictures are all
right in their way, I reckon, but, while my riggin' holds up, I'm for
travel. Mebbe I'll take a group of islands down in the South Seas after
a bit an' make somethin' out of 'em. Not jest _copra_ an' pearl-shell,
but cotton an' rubber."

"A king and his kingdom," suggested the girl.

"Aye, an' mebbe a queen to go with it," replied Lund, his eyes wide open
in a look that made the girl flush and Rainey feel the hidden issue that
he felt was bound to come, rising to the surface.

"That's a _man's_ life," went on Lund. "Travel's all right, but a man's
got to do somethin', buck somethin', start somethin'. An' a red-blooded
man wants the right kind of a woman to play mate. Polish off his rough
edges, mebbe. I'd rather be a rough castin' that could stand filin' a
bit, than smooth an' plated. An', when I find the right woman, one of my
own breed, I'm goin' to tie to her an' her to me.

"I'm goin' to be rich. They've cleaned up the sands of Nome, but there's
others'll be found yit between Cape Hope an' Cape Barry. Meantime, we've
got a placer of our own. With plenty of gold they ain't much limit to
what a man can do. I've roughed it all my life, an' I'm not lookin' for
ease. It makes a man soft. But--"

He swept the figure of the girl in a pause that was eloquent of his line
of thought. She grew uneasy of it, but Lund maintained it until she
raised her eyes from her work and challenged his. Rainey saw her breast
heave, saw her struggle to hold the gaze, turn red, then pale. He
thought her eyes showed fear, and then she stiffened. Almost
unconsciously she raised her hand to where Rainey was sure she kept the
little pistol, touched something as though to assure herself of its
presence, and went on sewing. Lund chuckled, but shifted his eyes to
Rainey.

"Why don't you write up _this_ v'yage? When it's all over? There's
adventure for you, an' we ain't ha'f through with it. An' romance, too,
mebbe. We ain't developed much of a love-story as yit, but you never can
tell."

He laughed, and Peggy Simms got up quietly, folded her sewing, and said
"Good night" composedly before she went to her room.

"How about it, Rainey?" quizzed Lund. "How about the love part of it?
She's a beauty, an' she'll be an heiress. Ain't you got enny red blood
in yore ve