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He seemed disposed to linger, and Rainey, not to excite suspicion toward himself or Tamada, went back on deck. What did Tamada mean by "except under certain circumstances"? he asked himself. For one thing he felt sure that Tamada had some basis for his expression that he expected to get his money. He knew something.
The dry, frightfully sallow skin had changed and Simms was breathing freely while Tamada, feeling his pulse, nodded affirmatively to the girl's questioning glance. "Got it?" asked Lund. Rainey gave the result of his search. "We'll have to put in to Unalaska," he said. "There are doctors there." The girl turned toward Lund. He smiled at the intensity of her gaze and pose.
Tamada, binding up the splints professionally, looked at Deming with jetty eyes that revealed no emotion. Lund passed his hand over his face. "I'm some mess myself," he said, stretching his great arms. "Give me a five-finger drink, Rainey, afore I clean up. Some scrap. Hell popping on deck, and a dead man in the cabin! And the gal! Did you see the gal, Rainey?"
Look after the lady an' her father, Rainey." Tamada entered as if nothing had happened. He carried a tray of dishes and cutlery that he laid down on the table. "Never mind settin' a place for Carlsen, Tamada," said Lund. "He's lost his appetite permanent." The Oriental's face did not change. "Yes, sir," he answered. The girl shuddered.
There was no doubt that Tamada, with his medical experience, was best fitted for the task, but it seemed to Rainey also that the girl had deliberately ignored their services and that, despite her involuntary admiration of Lund's fight against odds, or in revulsion of it, she reckoned them hostile to her sentiments. Lund roused him by talking of the burial-service for Simms.
"Miss Peggy, you better superintend the theatricals. It's got to be done right. Rainey, not to interrupt you, what do you know about enteric fever?" "Nothing." "Well, it's the same as typhoid. There'll be a surgeon aboard that gunboat. You got to bluff him. Say little an' look wise as an' owl. Don't let him mix in with yore patient." "My patient?" "Tamada! He's got enteric fever.
Lund stroked the sick man's throat, and he swallowed automatically. "More brandy," ordered Lund. With the next dose there came signs of revival, a low moan from the skipper. The girl flew to his side. Tamada, standing by with the bottle, stepped forward, handed the brandy to Rainey, and rolled up the lid of an eye, looking closely at the pupil. "I study medicine at Tokio," he said.
If you'd liked you could have chucked us all asprawl, an' that would have bin the end of it, with me down. You git a bottle of booze for that, Hansen, all for yore own Scandinavian belly. Come on, Rainey. Tamada, I want you."
He's Jim Cuffee, nigger cook, sick with enteric fever, not to be disturbed." Rainey stared. It was a clever device, if Tamada could carry it out, and he bear his own part in the masquerade. The willingness of Tamada to risk the disguise was assurance of his fidelity. "Lund should have told me," he said. "I've got to change his name on the papers.
"I think you soon all right, now," said Tamada. "You and Miss Simms turned the tide," said Rainey. "If they'd got those tools first they'd have finished us in short order." "Fools!" said Tamada. "Suppose they kill Lund, how they get away? No one to navigate. Presently the gunboat would find them. I think Mr. Lund will maybe trust me now," he said quietly. "What do you mean?" "Mr.
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