is. Lund ain't, but Simms is.
I'm Simms. An' you"--he stopped to grin at her--"you're my daughter.
I'll dissolve the relationship after a while, I'll promise you that. An'
I'll drill the men. They know what's ahead of 'em if the Japs git
suspicious.

"That ain't the worst of it! _They may know what we're after._ If they
do, we're goners. Ever occur to you, Rainey, that Tamada, who is a deep
one, may have tipped off the whole thing to his consul while the
schooner was at San Francisco? He was along the last trip. He'd know the
approximate position. Might have got the right figgers out o' the log,
him havin' the run of the cabin. A cable would do the rest. He'd git his
whack out of it, with the order of the Golden Chrysanthemum or some
jig-arig to boot, an' git even with the way he feels to'ard our outfit
for'ard, that ain't bin none too sweet to him."

The suggestion held a foundation of conviction for Rainey. He had
thought of the consul. He had always sensed depths in Tamada's reserve,
he remembered bits of his talk, the "certain circumstances" that he had
mentioned. It looked plausible. Lund rose.

"I'll fix Tamada," he said. But the girl stopped him.

"You don't _know_ that's true. Tamada has been wonderful--to me. What do
you intend to do with him?"

"I'll make up my mind between here and the galley," said Lund grimly.
"This is my third time of tackling this island, an' no Jap is goin' to
stand between me an' the gold, this trip. Why, even if he ain't blown on
us, he'll give the whole thing away. If he didn't want to they'd make
him come through if they laid their eyes on him. They've got more tricks
than a Chinese mandarin to make a man talk. Stands to reason he'll tell
'em. If he can talk when they git here," he added ominously, standing
half-way between the table and the door to the corridor, his hand
opening and closing suggestively. "The crew'd settle his hash if I
didn't. They ain't fools. They know what's ahead of 'em in Japan. You,
Rainey, git busy with that log. That gunboat'll have a boat alongside
this floe inside of ninety minnits."

But Peggy Simms was between him and the door.

"You shan't do it," she said, her eyes hard as flints, if Lund's were
like steel. "You don't know what he was to me when--when dad was buried.
Call him in and let him talk for himself or--or _I'll tell the Japanese
myself what we have come for!_"

Lund stood staring at her, his face hard, his beard thrust out like a
b