, 1913-06-26

MISSION station at CIava. ne WIN deuver
thcm the next trip OF the Apostle. II the
sydney steamer arrives before I get back
plant the sweet corn she VIII bring be-
tween the young trees on the high bank
Of the Balesuna. The current is eating In
against that bank, and you should do
something to save 1t.
I rave ordered some fig trees and To-
Quats, too. from Sydney. DR.. Welshmere
VIII bring some mango seeds. They are
big trees and require plenty Of room.
The Martha is registered ITO tons. She
ID the biggest schooner in the Solomons
= the best I saw q little of her lines
and guess the rest. She win sail like a
witch If she hasn't filled with water
her engine will be all right. The reason
sho went ashore was because it was not
working. The engineer had disconnected
the feed pipes to clean out the rust Poor
business unless at anchor or with plenty
OF sea room.
Plant all the trees In the compound even
II you have to clean out the palms later
on.
And don't plant the sweet corn all ut
once. Let a few days elapse between
paintings. JOAN LAKELAND.
He fingered the letter, lingering over
Il and scrutinizing the writing In a
way that was not his wont. How
characteristic, was, his thought, as he
studied the boyish scrawl-clear to
read, painfully clear, but none the less
boyish.
He looked long at the name. Joan
Lackland-just an assemblage of let
tiers, of commonplace letters, but an
assemblage that generated a subtle
heady magic. It crept into his brain
and twined and twisted his mental
processes until all hat constituted him
at that moment went out in love to
that scrawled signature. Joan Lack
land! Each time he looked at 1t there
arose Visions of her in a myriad moods
and guises, coming in out of the flying
smother Of the gale that had wrecked
her schooner, launching a whaleboat
to go a-fishing, running dripping from
the sea with streaming hair and cling
fhg garments to the fresh water show
er, frightening fourscore cannibals
with an empty chlorodyne bottle, ju-
venilely rafting IN about romance
and venture. bright eyed, her face
flushed and eager with enthusiasm.
Joan Lakeland! He unused over the
cryptic wonder of it till the secrets of
love were made clear and he felt q
keen sympathy for lovers who carved
their names on trees or wrote them
on the beach sands of the sea.
Then he came back to reality, and
his face hardened. Even then she
was on the wild coast of Malaita and
at Poonga-Poonga, of all v%illainous
and dangerous portions the worst, peo-
pied with n teeming population Of
head hunters. robbers and murderers.
Tor thn inatpnt bn antnrttnal 49, r..h
thought of calling his boats crew and
starting Immediately in a whaleboat
for P~oonga-Poonga. But the next in
slant the idea was dismissed. What
could he do If he did go? First she
would resent IT. Next she would laugh
at him and call him n silly.
There was much in her willful con-
due that caused him to vince In the
heart of i'm. He was appalled, by
b thought of her shoulder to Shout
der with the drunken rabble Of trad
ers Inc beach combers at Guvutu. 1t
was bad enough for a clean, fastidious
man, but for a young woman, a girl at
that. 1t was awful. The theft of the
Flibberty Gibbet was merely amusing.
though the means by which the theft
had been effected gave him hurt. Yet
he found consolation in the fact that
the task of making Oleson drunk had
been turned W. to the three scoun-
drels. And next and swiftly came the
vision of her, alone with those same
three scoundrels, on the Emily, sailing
out to sea from Guvutu in the twilight
with darkness coming on. Then came
visions Of Adamu Adam and Noa Noah
and all her brawny Tahitian following.
and his anxiety faded away, being re-
placed by irritation that she should
have been capable of such wildness of
conduct. And the irritation was still
on him as he got up and went inside
to stare at the hook on the wall and to
wish that her Stetson hat and revolver
holt 1Unro hanUinu frnIn IL