Sheldon did not mention the
subject again, nor did his conduct
change from what it had always
been. There was nothing of the
pining lover, nor of the lover
at all, in his demeanour. Nor
was there any awkwardness between
them. They were as frank and
friendly in their relations as
ever. He had wondered if his
belligerent love declaration
might have aroused some womanly
self- consciousness in Joan,
but he looked in vain for any
sign of it. She appeared as unchanged
as he; and while he knew that
he hid his real feelings, he
was firm in his belief that she
hid nothing. And yet the germ
he had implanted must be at work;
he was confident of that, though
he was without confidence as
to the result. There was no forecasting
this strange girl's processes.
She might awaken, it was true;
and on the other hand, and with
equal chance, he might be the
wrong man for her, and his declaration
of love might only more firmly
set her in her views on single
blessedness.
While he devoted more and more
of his time to the plantation
itself, she took over the house
and its multitudinous affairs;
and she took hold firmly, in
sailor fashion, revolutionizing
the system and discipline. The
labour situation on Berande was
improving. The Martha had carried
away fifty of the blacks whose
time was up, and they had been
among the worst on the plantation--five-year
men recruited by Billy Be-blowed,
men who had gone through the
old days of terrorism when the
original owners of Berande had
been driven away. The new recruits,
being broken in under the new
regime, gave better promise.
Joan had joined with Sheldon
from the start in the programme
that they must be gripped with
the strong hand, and at the same
time be treated with absolute
justice, if they were to escape
being contaminated by the older
boys that still remained.
"I think it would be a good
idea to put all the gangs at
work close to the house this
afternoon," she announced one
day at breakfast. "I've cleaned
up the house, and you ought to
clean up the barracks. There
is too much stealing going on."
"A good idea," Sheldon agreed. "Their
boxes should be searched. I've
just missed a couple of shirts,
and my best toothbrush is gone."
"And two boxes of my cartridges," she
added, "to say nothing of handkerchiefs,
towels, sheets, and my best pair
of slippers. But what they want
with your toothbrush is more
than I can imagine. They'll be
stealing the billiard balls next."
"One did disappear a few weeks
before you came," Sheldon laughed. "We'll
search the boxes this afternoon."
And a busy afternoon it was.
Joan and Sheldon, both armed,
went through the barracks, house
by house, the boss-boys assisting,
and half a dozen messengers,
in relay, shouting along the
line the names of the boys wanted.
Each boy brought the key to his
particular box, and was permitted
to look on while the contents
were overhauled by the boss-boys.
A wealth of loot was recovered.
There were fully a dozen cane-
knives--big hacking weapons with
razor-edges, capable of decapitating
a man at a stroke. Towels, sheets,
shirts, and slippers, along with
toothbrushes, wisp-brooms, soap,
the missing billiard ball, and
all the lost and forgotten trifles
of many months, came to light.
But most astonishing was the
quantity of ammunition-cartridges
for Lee-Metfords, for Winchesters
and Marlins, for revolvers from
thirty-two calibre to forty-five,
shot- gun cartridges, Joan's
two boxes of thirty-eight, cartridges
of prodigious bore for the ancient
Sniders of Malaita, flasks of
black powder, sticks of dynamite,
yards of fuse, and boxes of detonators.
But the great find was in the
house occupied by Gogoomy and
five Port Adams recruits. The
fact that the boxes yielded nothing
excited Sheldon's suspicions,
and he gave orders to dig up
the earthen floor. Wrapped in
matting, well oiled, free from
rust, and brand new, two Winchesters
were first unearthed. Sheldon
did not recognize them. They
had not come from Berande; neither
had the forty flasks of black
powder found under the corner-post
of the house; and while he could
not be sure, he could remember
no loss of eight boxes of detonators.
A big Colt's revolver he recognized
as Hughie Drummond's; while Joan
identified a thirty-two Ivor
and Johnson as a loss reported
by Matapuu the first week he
landed at Berande. The absence
of any cartridges made Sheldon
persist in the digging up of
the floor, and a fifty-pound
flour tin was his reward. With
glowering eyes Gogoomy looked
on while Sheldon took from the
tin a hundred rounds each for
the two Winchesters and fully
as many rounds more of nondescript
cartridges of all sorts and makes
and calibres.
The contraband and stolen property
was piled in assorted heaps on
the back veranda of the bungalow.
A few paces from the bottom of
the steps were grouped the forty-odd
culprits, with behind them, in
solid array, the several hundred
blacks of the plantation. At
the head of the steps Joan and
Sheldon were seated, while on
the steps stood the gang-bosses.
One by one the culprits were
called up and examined. Nothing
definite could be extracted from
them. They lied transparently,
but persistently, and when caught
in one lie explained it away
with half a dozen others. One
boy complacently announced that
he had found eleven sticks of
dynamite on the beach. Matapuu's
revolver, found in the box of
one Kapu, was explained away
by that boy as having been given
to him by Lervumie. Lervumie,
called forth to testify, said
he had got it from Noni; Noni
had got it from Sulefatoi; Sulefatoi
from Choka; Choka from Ngava;
and Ngava completed the circle
by stating that it had been given
to him by Kapu. Kapu, thus doubly
damned, calmly gave full details
of how it had been given to him
by Lervumie; and Lervumie, with
equal wealth of detail, told
how he had received it from Noni;
and from Noni to Sulefatoi it
went on around the circle again.
Divers articles were traced
indubitably to the house-boys,
each of whom steadfastly proclaimed
his own innocence and cast doubts
on his fellows. The boy with
the billiard ball said that he
had never seen it in his life
before, and hazarded the suggestion
that it had got into his box
through some mysterious and occultly
evil agency. So far as he was
concerned it might have dropped
down from heaven for all he knew
how it got there. To the cooks
and boats'-crews of every vessel
that had dropped anchor off Berande
in the past several years were
ascribed the arrival of scores
of the stolen articles and of
the major portion of the ammunition.
There was no tracing the truth
in any of it, though it was without
doubt that the unidentified weapons
and unfamiliar cartridges had
come ashore off visiting craft.
"Look at it," Sheldon said
to Joan. "We've been sleeping
over a volcano. They ought to
be whipped--"
"No whip me," Gogoomy cried
out from below. "Father belong
me big fella chief. Me whip,
too much trouble along you, close
up, my word."
"What name you fella Gogoomy!" Sheldon
shouted. "I knock seven bells
out of you. Here, you Kwaque,
put 'm irons along that fella
Gogoomy."
Kwaque, a strapping gang-boss,
plucked Gogoomy from out of his
following, and, helped by the
other gang-bosses; twisted his
arms behind him and snapped on
the heavy handcuffs.
"Me finish along you, close
up, you die altogether," Gogoomy,
with wrath-distorted face, threatened
the boss-boy.
"Please, no whipping," Joan
said in a low voice. "If whipping
IS necessary, send them to Tulagi
and let the Government do it.
Give them their choice between
a fine or an official whipping."
Sheldon nodded and stood up,
facing the blacks.
"Manonmie!" he
called.
Manonmie stood forth and waited.
"You fella boy bad fella too
much," Sheldon charged. "You
steal 'm plenty. You steal 'm
one fella towel, one fella cane-knife,
two- ten fella cartridge. My
word, plenty bad fella steal
'm you. Me cross along you too
much. S'pose you like 'm, me
take 'm one fella pound along
you in big book. S'pose you no
like 'm me take 'm one fella
pound, then me send you fella
along Tulagi catch 'm one strong
fella government whipping. Plenty
New Georgia boys, plenty Ysabel
boys stop along jail along Tulagi.
Them fella no like Malaita boys
little bit. My word, they give
'm you strong fella whipping.
What you say?"
"You take 'm one fella pound
along me," was the answer.
And Manonmie, patently relieved,
stepped back, while Sheldon entered
the fine in the plantation labour
journal.
Boy after boy, he called the
offenders out and gave them their
choice; and, boy by boy, each
one elected to pay the fine imposed.
Some fines were as low as several
shillings; while in the more
serious cases, such as thefts
of guns and ammunition, the fines
were correspondingly heavy.
Gogoomy and his five tribesmen
were fined three pounds each,
and at Gogoomy's guttural command
they refused to pay.
"S'pose you go along Tulagi," Sheldon
warned him, "you catch 'm strong
fella whipping and you stop along
jail three fella year. Mr. Burnett,
he look 'm along Winchester,
look 'm along cartridge, look
'm along revolver, look 'm along
black powder, look 'm along dynamite--my
word, he cross too much, he give
you three fella year along jail.
S'pose you no like 'm pay three
fella pound you stop along jail.
Savvee?"
Gogoomy wavered.
"It's true--that's what Burnett
would give them," Sheldon said
in an aside to Joan.
"You take 'm three fella pound
along me," Gogoomy muttered,
at the same time scowling his
hatred at Sheldon, and transferring
half the scowl to Joan and Kwaque. "Me
finish along you, you catch 'm
big fella trouble, my word. Father
belong me big fella chief along
Port Adams."
"That will do," Sheldon warned
him. "You shut mouth belong you."
"Me no fright," the
son of a chief retorted, by
his insolence
increasing his stature in the
eyes of his fellows.
"Lock him up for to-night," Sheldon
said to Kwaque. "Sun he come
up put 'm that fella and five
fella belong him along grass-cutting.
Savvee?"
Kwaque grinned.
"Me savvee," he said. "Cut
'm grass, ngari-ngari {4} stop
'm along grass. My word!"
"There will be trouble with
Gogoomy yet," Sheldon said to
Joan, as the boss-boys marshalled
their gangs and led them away
to their work. "Keep an eye on
him. Be careful when you are
riding alone on the plantation.
The loss of those Winchesters
and all that ammunition has hit
him harder than your cuffing
did. He is dead- ripe for mischief."
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