The engineer grinned genially.

"I don't wish to bind myself to a day or so, Miss Maxwell and

gentlemen," he said, "but I've had a good look at the damage, an' I

feel pwitty shu-aw I'll get up steam in one boil-aw within ten days or

a fawt-night. It'll be a makeshift job at the best, because I have so

few spa-aw fittin's, an' no chance of makin' a castin', but I'll bet a

ye'aw's scwew the Kansas gets a move on her undaw her own steam soon

aftaw New Ye-aw's Day."

New Year's Day! What a lump in the throat the words brought. In three

days it would be Christmas, in seven more the New Year! Though, from

the beginning of the voyage, they were prepared to pass both festivals

at sea, there was all the difference in the world between a steady

progress towards home and friends and the present plight of the

Kansas. Death, too, had thrown its shadow over them. Some there

were to whom the passing of the years would mean no more in this world.

Others, the great majority of the ship's company, were probably hidden

by the same eternal silence; the last sight they had of them was a dim

vision of boats rushing into a chaos of angry seas and sheeted spray.

But Courtenay would have none of these mournful memories. He had

solved the mystery of the ship's breakdown, and an expert mechanical

engineer had just pledged his reputation to restore wings to the

Kansas--somewhat clipped wings, it is true, but sufficient, given

fair weather and reasonable good fortune, to bring her to a civilized

settlement in the Straits. Why, then, should they yield to gloom?

"Isn't that glorious news?" he cried. "Now, Christobal, that motor

trip in June through the Pyrenees looks feasible once more. And you,

Miss Maxwell, though you have never quailed for an instant, can hope to

be in England in the spring. As for you, Tollemache, surely you will

say that our prospects are 'fair,' at the least."

"I would say more than that if it were not for these poisonous

Indians," replied Tollemache. "Here they come now, a whole canoe load

of 'em. I have never seen such rotters."

And, indeed, Francisco Suarez, detailed to keep watch and ward over the

ship until noon, ran up the companion and cried excitedly: "Four head men have just put off from Otter Creek. They have missed

me, I expect. They will want me to go back. I beseech you, señor

captain, not to give me up to them, but rather to send a bullet through

my miserable heart."

"Tell him to calm himself," said Courtenay, coolly, when Christobal had

translated this flow of guttural Spanish. "He has no cause to fear

them now; let him nerve himself, and show a bold front. A palaver is

the best thing that can happen. We must display all the arms we

possess. Bid any of your invalids who can stand upright show

themselves, Christobal. We must lift you outside, Boyle. Bring your

camera, Miss Maxwell. If we could give these fellows a good picture of

themselves it would scare them to death."




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