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Welshmere nodded in reply to Sheldon's look of inquiry, and Viaburi was dispatched for the whisky and siphons. "It is evident, Captain Oleson," Sheldon remarked to that refreshed mariner, "that Miss Lackland has run away with your boat. Now please give a plain statement of what occurred." "Right O; here goes. I'd just come in on the Flibberty.
She'll be at anchor in five minutes, and Doctor Welshmere is sure to be on board. So all we've got to do is to make Tudor comfortable. We'd better put him in your room under the mosquito-netting, and send a boat off to tell Dr. Welshmere to bring his instruments." An hour afterward, Dr.
She was certainly living up to her threat of rattling the dry bones of the Solomons, and he was prepared for anything. "Miss Lackland sent them," said Welshmere, the missionary doctor, stepping ashore and shaking hands with him. "There's also a box of saddles on board. And this letter from her. And the skipper of the Flibberty-Gibbet."
I've a thousand questions to ask you." "And it wouldn't have been a man-talk either," she added. "But my plan is better than that." He debated with himself a moment. "You see, the Commissioner is the one official in the islands who can give us a license. And there's the luck of it Doctor Welshmere is here to perform the ceremony. We'll get married this evening."
She's sworn three men off their drink, or, to the same purpose, shut off their whisky. You know them Brahms, Curtis, and Fowler. She shipped them on the Flibberty-Gibbet along with her." "She's the skipper of the Flibberty now," Oleson broke in. "And she'll wreck her as sure as God didn't make the Solomons." Dr. Welshmere tried to look shocked, but laughed again.
Welshmere left the patient comfortable and attended to, and went down to the beach to go on board, promising to come back to dinner. Joan and Sheldon, standing on the veranda, watched him depart. "I'll never have it in for the missionaries again since seeing them here in the Solomons," she said, seating herself in a steamer-chair. She looked at Sheldon and began to laugh. "That's right," he said.
That trader at Nogi died of fever, and I bought them from his partner, Sam Willis his name is, who agrees to deliver them most likely by the Minerva next time she is down that way. Berande has been long enough on tinned milk. And Dr. Welshmere has agreed to get me some orange and lime trees from the mission station at Ulava. He will deliver them the next trip of the Apostle.
If the Sydney steamer arrives before I get back, plant the sweet corn she will bring between the young trees on the high bank of the Balesuna. The current is eating in against that bank, and you should do something to save it. I have ordered some fig-trees and loquats, too, from Sydney. Dr. Welshmere will bring some mango-seeds. They are big trees and require plenty of room.
The next moment, and before he could greet him, Oleson stepped from the boat and began. "She's stolen the Flibberty, Mr. Sheldon. Run clean away with her. She's a wild one. She gave me the fever. Brought it on by shock. And got me drunk, as well rotten drunk." Dr. Welshmere laughed heartily. "Nevertheless, she is not an unmitigated evil, your Miss Lackland.
When the Flibberty-Gibbet comes back, you'll take charge again, of course." After Dr. Welshmere and the Apostle departed and Captain Oleson had turned in for a sleep in a veranda hammock, Sheldon opened Joan's letter. DEAR MR. SHELDON, Please forgive me for stealing the Flibberty-Gibbet. I simply had to. The Martha means everything to us.
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