asleep.
'Boyd?' Minnie said softly.
'Thought you were asleep,' he growled.
'Boyd, if we don't come through this—'
'Stow that!' he broke in ungallantly. 'Of course we're coming through. There is isn't a doubt of it. Somewhere on this ocean is a ship that's heading right for us. You wait and see. Just the same I wish my brain were equipped with wireless. Now I'm going to sleep, if you don't.'
But for once, sleep baffled him. An hour later he heard Minnie stir and knew she was awake.
'Say, do you know what I've been thinking!' she asked.
'No; what?'
'That I'll wish you a Merry Christmas.'
'By George, I never thought of it. Of course it's Christmas Day. We'll have many more of them, too. And do you know what I've been thinking? What a confounded shame we're done out of our Christmas dinner. Wait till I lay hands on Dettmar. I'll take it out of him. And it won't be with an iron belaying pin either, Just two bunches of naked knuckles, that's all.'
Despite his facetiousness, Boyd Duncan had little hope. He knew well enough the meaning of one chance in a million, and was calmly certain that his wife and he had entered upon their last few living hours—hours that were inevitably bound to be black and terrible with tragedy.
The tropic sun rose in a cloudless sky. Nothing was to be seen. The Samoset was beyond the sea-rim. As the sun rose higher, Duncan ripped his pajama trousers in halves and fashioned them into two rude turbans. Soaked in sea-water they offset the heat-rays.
'When I think of that dinner, I'm really angry,' he complained, as he noted an anxious expression threatening to set on his wife's face. 'And I want you to be with me when I settle with Dettmar. I've always been opposed to women witnessing scenes of blood, but this is different. It will be a beating.'
'I hope I don't break my knuckles on him,' he added, after a pause.
Midday came and went, and they floated on, the center of a narrow sea-circle. A gentle breath of the dying trade-wind fanned them, and they rose and fell monotonously on the smooth swells of a perfect summer sea. Once, a gunie spied them, and for half an hour circled about them with majestic sweeps. And, once, a huge rayfish, measuring a score of feet across the tips, passed within a few yards.
By sunset, Minnie began to rave, softly, babblingly, like a child. Duncan 's face grew haggard as he watched and listened, while in his mind he revolved plans of how best to end the hours of agony that were coming. And, so planning, as they rose on a larger swell than usual, he swept the circle of the sea with his eyes, and saw, what made him cry out.
'Minnie!' She did not answer, and he shouted her name again in her ear, with all the voice he could command. Her eyes opened, in them fluttered commingled consciousness and delirium. He slapped her hands and wrists till the sting of the blows roused her.
'There she is, the chance in a million!' he cried.
'A steamer at that, heading straight for us! By George, it's a cruiser! I have it!—the Annapolis , returning with those astronomers from Tutuwanga.'
United States Consul Lingford was a fussy, elderly gentleman, and in the two years of his service at Attu-Attu had never encountered so unprecedented a case as that laid before him by Boyd Duncan. The latter, with his wife, had been landed there by the Annapolis , which had promptly gone on with its cargo of astronomers to Fiji .
'It was cold-blooded, deliberate attempt to murder,' said Consul Lingford. 'The law shall take its course. I don't know how precisely to deal with this Captain Dettmar, but if he comes to Attu-Attu, depend upon it he shall be dealt with, he—ah—shall be dealt with. In the meantime, I shall read up the law. And now, won't you and your good lady stop for lunch!'
As Duncan accepted the invitation, Minnie, who had been glancing out of the window at the harbor, suddenly leaned forward and touched her husband's arm. He followed her gaze, and saw the Samoset, flag at half mast, rounding up and dropping anchor scarcely a hundred yards away.
'There's my boat now,' Duncan said to the Consul. 'And there's the launch over the side, and Captain Dettmar dropping into it. If I don't miss my guess, he's coming to report our deaths to you.'
The launch landed on the white beach, and leaving Lorenzo tinkering with the engine, Captain Dettmar strode across the beach and up the path to the Consulate.
'Let him make his report,' Duncan said. 'We'll just step into this next room and listen.'
And through the partly open door, he and his wife heard Captain Dettmar, with tears in his voice, describe the loss of his owners.
'I jibed over and went back across the very spot,' he concluded. 'There was not a sign of them. I called and called, but there was never an answer. I tacked back and forth and wore for two solid hours, then hove to till daybreak, and cruised back and forth all day, two men at the mastheads. It is terrible. I am heartbroken. Mr. Duncan was a splendid man, and I shall never…'
But he never completed the sentence, for at that moment his splendid employer strode out upon him, leaving Minnie standing in the doorway. Captain Dettmar's white face blanched even whiter.
'I did my best to pick you up, sir,' he began.
Boyd Duncan's answer was couched in terms of bunched knuckles, two bunches of them, that landed right and left on Captain Dettmar's face.
Captain Dettmar staggered backward, recovered, and rushed with swinging arms at his employer, only to be met with a blow squarely between the eyes. This time the Captain went down, bearing the typewriter under him as he crashed to the floor.
'This is not permissible,' Consul Lingford spluttered. 'I beg of you, I beg of you, to desist.'
'I'll pay the damages to office furniture,' Duncan answered, and at the same time landing more bunched knuckles on the eyes and nose of Dettmar.
Consul Lingford bobbed around in the turmoil like a wet hen, while his office furniture went to ruin. Once, he caught Duncan by the arm, but was flung back, gasping, half-across the room. Another time he appealed to Minnie.
'Mrs. Duncan, won't you, please, please, restrain your husband?'
But she, white-faced and trembling, resolutely shook her head and watched the fray with all her eyes.
'It is outrageous,' Consul Lingford cried, dodging the hurtling bodies of the two men. 'It is an affront to the Government, to the United States Government. Nor will it be overlooked, I warn you. Oh, do pray desist, Mr. Duncan. You will kill the man. I beg of you. I beg, I beg…'
But the crash of a tall vase filled with crimson hibiscus blossoms left him speechless.
The time came when Captain Dettmar could no longer get up. He got as far as hands and knees, struggled vainly to rise further, then collapsed. Duncan stirred the groaning wreck with his foot.
'He's all right,' he announced. 'I've only given him what he has given many a sailor and worse.'
'Great heavens, sir!' Consul Lingford exploded, staring horror-stricken at the man whom he had invited to lunch.
Duncan giggled involuntarily, then controlled himself.
'I apologize, Mr. Lingford, I most heartily apologize. I fear I was slightly carried away by my feelings.'
Consul Lingford gulped and sawed the air speechlessly with his arms.
'Slightly, sir? Slightly?' he managed to articulate.
'Boyd,' Minnie called softly from the doorway.
He turned and looked.
'You ARE a joy,' she said.
'And now, Mr. Lingford, I am done with him,' Duncan said. 'I turn over what is left to you and the law.'
'That?' Consul Lingford queried, in accent of horror.
'That,' Boyd Duncan replied, looking ruefully at his battered knuckles.
