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Updated: June 23, 2025
"Carlsen says that the skipper's life is in his hands," he said, still evading Lund's direct question. "What do you make of that?" "I don't know what to make of it," answered Lund. "If it is, God help the skipper! I reckon he's in a bad way. Ennyhow, he's out of it for the time bein', Rainey. I don't think he'll be present at the meetin' if he's that ill. Carlsen speaks for him.
A good deal of this was enigmatical to Rainey, but there was no mistaking Lund's tremendous seriousness and, duly impressed, Rainey promised to carry out his suggestions. As he crossed the main cabin to go to his own room, Carlsen came out of the skipper's. He did not see Rainey at first and was humming a little air under his breath as he slipped a small article into his pocket.
At first he had considered Lund's character as comparatively simple and brutal but he had qualified this, without seeming consciousness, and he felt that Lund would never deliberately insult a woman any sort of woman. He was beginning to feel something more than an admiration for Lund's strength; a liking for the man himself had, almost against his will, begun to assert itself.
The sun sank early into banks of leaden clouds, and the Karluk slid on through the seething seas in a scene of strange loneliness, save for the suspended albatross that never varied its position by an inch or by a flirt of its plumes. Rainey felt the dreary suggestion of it all as he walked up and down, trying to evolve some plan. Lund's mysterious hints were unsatisfactory.
I'm left in it by that bilge-blooded skunk, blind on the rockin', breakin' floe, while he scuds back to the schooner with his men. That's Honest Simms! Jim Lund's left behind but Honest Simms has the position of the island." "I didn't hear you call out you were blind, Lund. The wind blew your words away. I didn't know but what you were as right as the rest of us.
Yet she would naturally side with her father, as she had done against Lund's accusations. And Rainey suspected that there was something back of Lund's charge of desertion.
Several of the hunters had gathered about, and Lund's question seemed a general appeal. Carlsen shrugged his shoulders. "If you had your eyesight," he said almost brutally, "you could soon see that the skipper was in no condition to discuss matters, much less be present." "Here's my eyesight," countered Lund. "Mr. Rainey here. Let him see the skipper and ask him a question or two."
Lund's own damaged features were lowered as Rainey commenced to read. Only Deming's face, gray from the effort of coming on deck and the pain in his arm, held the semblance of a sneer that was largely bravado. A hunter had his arm tucked in that of his comrade with the broken ribs.
"But we didn't take any risks after Lund's blowing off. He might have done it ashore before you brought him aboard. I don't think so. But he might. And so might you, later." "I'd have given you my word." "And meant to keep it. But you'd have been an uncertain factor, a weak link. You might have given it away in your sleep.
The instant that Mock's name had been mentioned it had flashed through Dick's mind that, when in Greg's office that afternoon, he had seen Mock's name on Top Sergeant Lund's list of men for pass, and Greg, he knew, had drawn a pen line through that name. "Of course it may not have been Mock that Lawrence saw; Lawrence himself wasn't sure," Dick reflected.
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