The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1941-10-23
CHAPTER I


lot who called himself Captain Ra-
mey was an unfamiliar figure on the
terraces of Honolulu's luxury hotels;
he was here now, at the same table
with Karen Waterson and John Colt,
only because he was trying to per-
suade Colt to charter his Diesel
boat. In this connection he was tell
ing a rambling story concerned with
reefs and shoals, and the tricky cur
rents of the South Seas; but now he
stopped abruptly IN nid-sentence.
His single eye was looking across
the lanai of the Royal Hawaiian,
across the dirnly lighted little tables,
to the steps which led onto the open
air terrace where they sat.
There he is" he said after a
moment. His voice dropped from
its narrative sing-song to a tone of
reality. THAT man, there on the
steps, is Tonga Dick.
Karen Waterson, her lashes veil
ing her sharp curiosity, moved her
head a little, slowly, so that she
could look at the whi1e-clad figure
Ramey pointed out.
1.-The one with the tray of dishes?
Oh, excuse me, was looking at
the wrong door"
The man designated as Tonga
Dick moved down to the lanai with
a loose leisure. The lights of the
hotel lounge were behind him, so
that the girl could not see his face;
but she saw that he was slim as
slat, and that his slow stroll almost
slouched and almost staggered,
while denying both. Watching him,
Karen gathered a suggestion Of
easy-going arrogance which she
found family mtimidating-perhaps
because she had too often tried to
imagine what this man was like.
A table captain led Tonga Dick to
a place at one side, under a wine
palm. Karen saw a match fare IN
the shadows as he Lit cigarette;
then she turned back to the two
men at her table.
A shiver had run across Karen's
shoulders as she turned from her in
spection of Tonga Dick, but she was
not cold. No one could be cold IN
that mild, blossom-fragrant air. The
truth was that she was disturbed by
a sense of utter unreality. Homo
lulu itself seemed unreal, and the
night lanai of the hotel seemed the
most unreal thing IN it.
Mostly that illusion was In the
texture of the night itself. 1t was IN
the mild caress of the soft air, and
IN the strangely quoting, strangely
exciting odor Of many blossoms.
The half-darkness Of the starlight
seemed full of the ghosts of long for
gotten things, crowding close In the
warmth Of night that could not
turn cold.
Karen supposed she would have
felt differently if she had been here
as a tourist, to relax and to enjoy,
but she was not. For the first time
In her life Karen found herself in
position of attack instead of defense
gambling for stakes that a year
ago would have been beyond her
belief.
Ramey, the little one-eyed sea-
tramp, was talking to Colt about
Tonga Dick. Like a hundred others
who odd-iobbed in the Islands, the
weather-faced Ramey contained a
vast store of Island information
mostly unusable-and very little
else.
This here Dick Wayne Tonga
Dick-he's what you might call the
black sheep of the Waynes."
He don't figure much, around
Ramey explained-'.noth-
ing like his uncle does, not even like
his two brothers. Generally speak
ing, you can leave him out of the
picture.
MY experience" John Colt said,
sis that to leave any factor out of
picture is like leaving a plank out
of ship" John Colts pleasant,
deeply suave voice carried the re-
assurance of actuality and of the
things which John Colt knew how to |
control. BLACK sheep or not, he
can't be Insignificant, because he is
one of the Waynes."
I'm some ways Ramey admit
ted, twirling his whisky soda, Ton
ga Dick has been the most talked |
about of all the Waynes."
Talked about?" Colt prompted.
HE was always the wild one,"
Ramey remembered, "even when |
he was a kid. He pulled out on his
own when he was eighteen
How is it he's talked about"
John Colt suggested, IF he's never
here?"
People keep wondering what his
racket is" Ramey said. After Ton
ga Dick broke off from his uncle,
people always wondered what he
was up to, and how he got by so
well. He's got him a good fast
schooner, carrying both power and
sail, and he goes whacking around
the South Pacific, all over, from Viii
Levu to the Tuamotus. Used to be,
people thought he was In the copra
trade; and even after the price of
copra went to nothing, some still
figured he was trading shell. But
that boat of his can't carry any
cargo-ain't built for it. And there's
always been others that said-wen
you know how people talk"
They said"
"Oh, of course there was always
a lot of wild Stories" said Ramey
deprecatorily, but with relish 1--WE