Adventure [39]
to--to suggest something."
In the pause that followed, he seemed to debate, not so much whether he would tell her, as how to begin to tell her.
"I'm American, you see," she persisted, "and our American heritage is a large parcel of business sense. I don't like it myself, but I know I've got it--at least more than you have. Let us talk it over and find a way out. How much do you owe?"
"A thousand pounds, and a few trifles over--small bills, you know. Then, too, thirty of the boys finish their time next week, and their balances will average ten pounds each. But what is the need of bothering your head with it? Really, you know--"
"What is Berande worth?--right now?"
"Whatever Morgan and Raff are willing to pay for it." A glance at her hurt expression decided him. "Hughie and I have sunk eight thousand pounds in it, and our time. It is a good property, and worth more than that. But it has three years to run before its returns begin to come in. That is why Hughie and I engaged in trading and recruiting. The Jessie and our stations came very near to paying the running expenses of Berande."
"And Morgan and Raff offered you what?"
"A thousand pounds clear, after paying all bills."
"The thieves!" she cried.
"No, they're good business men, that is all. As they told me, a thing is worth no more than one is willing to pay or to receive."
"And how much do you need to carry on Berande for three years?" Joan hurried on.
"Two hundred boys at six pounds a year means thirty-six hundred pounds--that's the main item."
"My, how cheap labour does mount up! Thirty-six hundred pounds, eighteen thousand dollars, just for a lot of cannibals! Yet the place is good security. You could go down to Sydney and raise the money."
He shook his head.
"You can't get them to look at plantations down there. They've been taken in too often. But I do hate to give the place up--more for Hughie's sake, I swear, than my own. He was bound up in it. You see, he was a persistent chap, and hated to acknowledge defeat. It--it makes me uncomfortable to think of it myself. We were running slowly behind, but with the Jessie we hoped to muddle through in some fashion."
"You were muddlers, the pair of you, without doubt. But you needn't sell to Morgan and Raff. I shall go down to Sydney on the next steamer, and I'll come back in a second-hand schooner. I should be able to buy one for five or six thousand dollars--"
He held up his hand in protest, but she waved it aside.
"I may manage to freight a cargo back as well. At any rate, the schooner will take over the Jessie's business. You can make your arrangements accordingly, and have plenty of work for her when I get back. I'm going to become a partner in Berande to the extent of my bag of sovereigns--I've got over fifteen hundred of them, you know. We'll draw up an agreement right now--that is, with your permission, and I know you won't refuse it."
He looked at her with good-natured amusement.
"You know I sailed here all the way from Tahiti in order to become a planter," she insisted. "You know what my plans were. Now I've changed them, that's all. I'd rather be a part owner of Berande and get my returns in three years, than break ground on Pari-Sulay and wait seven years."
"And this--er--this schooner. . . . " Sheldon changed his mind and stopped.
"Yes, go on."
"You won't be angry?" he queried.
"No, no; this is business. Go on."
"You--er--you would run her yourself?--be the captain, in short?-- and go recruiting on Malaita?"
"Certainly. We would save the cost of a skipper. Under an agreement you would be credited with a manager's salary, and I with a captain's. It's quite simple. Besides, if you won't let me be your partner, I shall buy Pari-Sulay, get a much smaller vessel, and run her myself. So what is the difference?"
"The difference?--why, all the difference in the world. In the case of Pari-Sulay you would be on an independent venture. You could turn cannibal for all I could interfere in the matter. But
In the pause that followed, he seemed to debate, not so much whether he would tell her, as how to begin to tell her.
"I'm American, you see," she persisted, "and our American heritage is a large parcel of business sense. I don't like it myself, but I know I've got it--at least more than you have. Let us talk it over and find a way out. How much do you owe?"
"A thousand pounds, and a few trifles over--small bills, you know. Then, too, thirty of the boys finish their time next week, and their balances will average ten pounds each. But what is the need of bothering your head with it? Really, you know--"
"What is Berande worth?--right now?"
"Whatever Morgan and Raff are willing to pay for it." A glance at her hurt expression decided him. "Hughie and I have sunk eight thousand pounds in it, and our time. It is a good property, and worth more than that. But it has three years to run before its returns begin to come in. That is why Hughie and I engaged in trading and recruiting. The Jessie and our stations came very near to paying the running expenses of Berande."
"And Morgan and Raff offered you what?"
"A thousand pounds clear, after paying all bills."
"The thieves!" she cried.
"No, they're good business men, that is all. As they told me, a thing is worth no more than one is willing to pay or to receive."
"And how much do you need to carry on Berande for three years?" Joan hurried on.
"Two hundred boys at six pounds a year means thirty-six hundred pounds--that's the main item."
"My, how cheap labour does mount up! Thirty-six hundred pounds, eighteen thousand dollars, just for a lot of cannibals! Yet the place is good security. You could go down to Sydney and raise the money."
He shook his head.
"You can't get them to look at plantations down there. They've been taken in too often. But I do hate to give the place up--more for Hughie's sake, I swear, than my own. He was bound up in it. You see, he was a persistent chap, and hated to acknowledge defeat. It--it makes me uncomfortable to think of it myself. We were running slowly behind, but with the Jessie we hoped to muddle through in some fashion."
"You were muddlers, the pair of you, without doubt. But you needn't sell to Morgan and Raff. I shall go down to Sydney on the next steamer, and I'll come back in a second-hand schooner. I should be able to buy one for five or six thousand dollars--"
He held up his hand in protest, but she waved it aside.
"I may manage to freight a cargo back as well. At any rate, the schooner will take over the Jessie's business. You can make your arrangements accordingly, and have plenty of work for her when I get back. I'm going to become a partner in Berande to the extent of my bag of sovereigns--I've got over fifteen hundred of them, you know. We'll draw up an agreement right now--that is, with your permission, and I know you won't refuse it."
He looked at her with good-natured amusement.
"You know I sailed here all the way from Tahiti in order to become a planter," she insisted. "You know what my plans were. Now I've changed them, that's all. I'd rather be a part owner of Berande and get my returns in three years, than break ground on Pari-Sulay and wait seven years."
"And this--er--this schooner. . . . " Sheldon changed his mind and stopped.
"Yes, go on."
"You won't be angry?" he queried.
"No, no; this is business. Go on."
"You--er--you would run her yourself?--be the captain, in short?-- and go recruiting on Malaita?"
"Certainly. We would save the cost of a skipper. Under an agreement you would be credited with a manager's salary, and I with a captain's. It's quite simple. Besides, if you won't let me be your partner, I shall buy Pari-Sulay, get a much smaller vessel, and run her myself. So what is the difference?"
"The difference?--why, all the difference in the world. In the case of Pari-Sulay you would be on an independent venture. You could turn cannibal for all I could interfere in the matter. But