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Updated: June 23, 2025
Lund's!" exclaimed Miss Hjelm. "Is it not you, then, who have written me that " "I have never written to you!" cried Ingeborg, and almost tore away the hand which Bagger tried to hold. "For God's sake, don't go, Miss ! My dear madam, you must forgive me: you shall know all!"
It was Lund's apparent callousness that affected him more than his own squeamishness. He could not regret Carlsen's death. With the doctor alive, his own existence would have been a constant menace. But he was not used to seeing a killing, though, in his water-front detail, he had not been unacquainted with grim tragedies of the sea. It was Lund's demeanor that gripped him.
His chivalry had spoken not his heart. And his thoughts strayed back to California. The other girl, Diana though she was, would never, in almost one breath, have shot and kissed the man she loved. A lingering vision of Peggy Simms' beauty as she had gone to Lund remained and faded. "Lund's right," he told himself. "She's not of my breed."
Meeting the look from these eyes, Bagger could no longer continue the inquisition which he had carried on for the sake of involving Miss Hjelm in self-contradiction and bringing her to confession. He himself came to confession, and exclaimed: "Miss Ingeborg, I ask you for Heaven's sake have pity on me, and tell me if you expect me at two o'clock to-day at Mrs. Lund's!" "I expect you at Mrs.
Lund's story, but I can affirm that the 'fire ship' is a myth, universally recognized among the sea-going population of our coast, from the Florida Keys to the mouth of the St. Lawrence. Off the coral reefs, the crime-accursed slaver or pirate haunts the scene of her terrible deeds.
But the bout between the two was timed now, and both were casting aside any veneer of diplomacy, their enmity manifesting itself in the raw. The issue was growing tense. Rainey fancied that Carlsen was not entirely sure of his following, and relied upon Lund's indignant refusal of terms to back up his plans of getting rid of him decisively. "Rainey can see the skipper," said Carlsen carelessly.
After this the girl avoided Lund's company as much as possible by seeking Rainey's. They worked through the Strait and headed into the Arctic Ocean.
He read over the sergeant's report, and then dictated half-a-dozen lines, which that officer wrote down as quickly as he could. "I shall copy it out afterwards," he said, "neat and clean. Go on, my lad, go on." Gray dictated a few more lines, which ended the report in a short, concise manner, and Sergeant Lund's face, which had been all in corrugations, smoothed itself into a satisfied smile.
She was handling her woman's weapons admirably, yet when he sometimes, at night, under the cabin lamp, saw the smoldering light glowing in Lund's agate eyes, he knew that she was playing a dangerous game. "What d'ye figger on doin' with yore share, Rainey?" Lund asked him the night that they passed Nome.
He found that it lacked four shells of full capacity, the two that Lund had fired at his bottle target, the one fired by Carlsen at Rainey, and the last ineffective shot at Lund, a shot that went astray, Rainey decided, largely through Lund's coup-de-theatre of tearing off his glasses and flinging them at the doctor.
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