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Davis said nothing for a moment.

It was impossible to take the ketch away without the crew. Of course, he and Harman could have taken her out, but he knew better than ever to dream of facing the Pacific in a vessel of that tonnage with only another pair of hands to help him. He had been through the experience years ago; he knew what it was for two men to take on a ten-men’s job. No, the canoe was better than that, infinitely.

“Billy,” said he suddenly, “buck up! We aren’t done. Can’t you see, the chap is so certain sure there’s no one here to harm or meddle with him, he’s let all his crew come ashore? Well, as sure as he’s done that, he’s left the pearls on board.”

Harman fell to the idea at once.

“You mean us to skip in the canoe with them?”

“Yep,” said the other.

Harman considered for a bit in silence, while the sounds of the festival on the beach came on the new-risen wind from the sea.

He had sworn never to enter a canoe again, the prospect was hateful; yet there was one bright spot in it, a spot as big as a sun—Clayton’s face on waking next morning to find the pearls gone!

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