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"Then let's charge them with dynamite," Harriwell proposed. Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping themselves with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just then it happened. They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he admitted that the charge had been a trifle excessive.
Harriwell had sent up immediately after her daughter's installation with the campers. With the express came two maids, one for work, and the other to look after Molly. Mrs. Harriwell had to be content with stopping at a nearby hotel, but every day she came over to the camp, and really was almost like a young girl herself, so great was her joy in the sudden restoration of her daughter's health.
She led him to the stable, where the old horse Jeff stood waiting to take his part in the important work. "Let's hitch up and drive over to Blenden. We can make it before dark, and I want to be the first to tell Mrs. Harriwell. I could never trust to a message." With a word to Mrs. Markin, the major agreed.
"Don't think the government'll do it," objected McTavish. "But gentlemen, gentlemen," Bertie cried. "In the meantime think of me." Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. "Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known antidotes for native poisons. Try and compose yourself, and if "
Harriwell, cheerfully; "but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper and mate of the Arla, can handle them all right." Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his resignation. "It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well afford to remain on longer.
"Not at all," declared the major. "But come along, and you will see for yourself." An attendant had stepped up, and was looking curiously at Dorothy. She took her father's hand. "Any word?" asked the nurse. "Not for you," replied Mrs. Harriwell with dignity, "I find there are better places than sanitariums for nervous girls. Come along, sir.
Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following steamer day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were lady tourists on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, while Captain Malu, as usual, passed unnoticed.
"This is our camp," said Dorothy, as they reached it. Mrs. Harriwell fairly ran up those barn steps. But who would try to tell what happened when she found her daughter? "It's up to Tavia!" "I have told you every word I am going to tell," she declared. "Oh, no you haven't," objected Nat. "I want to know about that stagey fellow. I don't quite fancy his interference."
"Maybe it wasn't poison after all," said Harriwell, dismally. "Call in the cook," said Brown. In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. "Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?" Harriwell bellowed, pointing accusingly at the omelet. Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. "Him good fella kai-kai," he murmured apologetically. "Make him eat it," suggested McTavish.
They knew he could be depended upon, while he was equally certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct to Captain Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on Guadalcanar, and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief and shook hands with the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him. "Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast," Mr.
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