"I know exactly where she is, and I must go to the rescue
of those people. It's most fortunate you've fallen in with me, Mr.
Carter. Fortunate for them and fortunate for me," he added in a lower
tone.
"Yes," drawled Carter, reflectively. "There may be a tidy bit of salvage
money if you should get the vessel off, but I don't think you can do
much. I had better stay out here and try to speak some gunboat--"
"You must come back to your ship with me," said Lingard,
authoritatively. "Never mind the gunboats."
"That wouldn't be carrying out my orders," argued Carter. "I've got to
speak a homeward-bound ship or a man-of-war--that's plain enough. I am
not anxious to knock about for days in an open boat, but--let me fill my
fresh-water breaker, Captain, and I will be off."
"Nonsense," said Lingard, sharply. "You've got to come with me to show
the place and--and help. I'll take your boat in tow."
Carter did not seem convinced. Lingard laid a heavy hand on his
shoulder.
"Look here, young fellow. I am Tom Lingard and there's not a white man
among these islands, and very few natives, that have not heard of me. My
luck brought you into my ship--and now I've got you, you must stay. You
must!"
The last "must" burst out loud and sharp like a pistol-shot. Carter
stepped back.
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