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Updated: June 12, 2025
Captain Dettmar demanded truculently. "Which governor?" "Of California. Did he lie to you like all the rest?" "I'll tell you what he said.
I've seen it on your face ever since for all these months.. I've seen the two of you, polite as hell to me all the time, and getting away in corners and talking about me and that affair in 'Frisco." "Are you done?" Duncan asked, his voice low, and tense. "Quite done?" Captain Dettmar made no answer. "Then I'll tell you a few things.
In the dim starlight he could make out her head and shoulders disappearing astern in the lazy wake. "What was it?" Captain Dettmar, who was at the wheel, asked. "Mrs. Duncan," was Duncan's reply, as he tore the life-buoy from its hook and flung it aft. "Jibe over to starboard and come up on the wind!" he commanded. And then Boyd Duncan made a mistake. He dived overboard.
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.
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.
"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.
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.
Minnie Duncan started, then glanced at her husband's immobile face, took the cue, and remained silent. "I say you were talking about me," Captain Dettmar repeated, this time with almost a snarl. He did not lurch nor betray the liquor on him in any way save by the convulsive working of his face. "Minnie, you'd better go down," Duncan said gently. "Tell Lee Goom we'll sleep below.
Boyd, Minnie, and Captain Dettmar were the only whites on board, though Lorenzo, the small and greasy engineer, laid a part claim to white, being a Portuguese half-caste. A Japanese served as cook, and a Chinese as cabin boy. Four white sailors had constituted the original crew for'ard, but one by one they had yielded to the charms of palm-waving South Sea isles and been replaced by islanders.
But there was no need to lower away on the run. The power went out of the wind, and the tropic rain poured a deluge over everything. Then it was, the danger past, and as the Kanakas began to coil the halyards back on the pins, that Boyd Duncan went below. "All right," he called in cheerily to his wife. "Only a puff." "And Captain Dettmar?" she queried. "Has been drinking, that is all.
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