The engineer grinned genially.
"I don't wish to bind myself to a day or so, Miss Maxwell and
gentlemen," he said, "but I've had a good look at the damage, an' I
feel pwitty shu-aw I'll get up steam in one boil-aw within ten days or
a fawt-night. It'll be a makeshift job at the best, because I have so
few spa-aw fittin's, an' no chance of makin' a castin', but I'll bet a
ye'aw's scwew the Kansas gets a move on her undaw her own steam soon
aftaw New Ye-aw's Day."
New Year's Day! What a lump in the throat the words brought. In three
days it would be Christmas, in seven more the New Year! Though, from
the beginning of the voyage, they were prepared to pass both festivals
at sea, there was all the difference in the world between a steady
progress towards home and friends and the present plight of the
Kansas. Death, too, had thrown its shadow over them. Some there
were to whom the passing of the years would mean no more in this world.
Others, the great majority of the ship's company, were probably hidden
by the same eternal silence; the last sight they had of them was a dim
vision of boats rushing into a chaos of angry seas and sheeted spray.
But Courtenay would have none of these mournful memories. He had
solved the mystery of the ship's breakdown, and an expert mechanical
engineer had just pledged his reputation to restore wings to the
Kansas--somewhat clipped wings, it is true, but sufficient, given
fair weather and reasonable good fortune, to bring her to a civilized
settlement in the Straits. Why, then, should they yield to gloom?
"Isn't that glorious news?" he cried. "Now, Christobal, that motor
trip in June through the Pyrenees looks feasible once more. And you,
Miss Maxwell, though you have never quailed for an instant, can hope to
be in England in the spring. As for you, Tollemache, surely you will
say that our prospects are 'fair,' at the least."
"I would say more than that if it were not for these poisonous
Indians," replied Tollemache. "Here they come now, a whole canoe load
of 'em. I have never seen such rotters."
And, indeed, Francisco Suarez, detailed to keep watch and ward over the
ship until noon, ran up the companion and cried excitedly: "Four head men have just put off from Otter Creek. They have missed
me, I expect. They will want me to go back. I beseech you, señor
captain, not to give me up to them, but rather to send a bullet through
my miserable heart."
"Tell him to calm himself," said Courtenay, coolly, when Christobal had
translated this flow of guttural Spanish. "He has no cause to fear
them now; let him nerve himself, and show a bold front. A palaver is
the best thing that can happen. We must display all the arms we
possess. Bid any of your invalids who can stand upright show
themselves, Christobal. We must lift you outside, Boyle. Bring your
camera, Miss Maxwell. If we could give these fellows a good picture of
themselves it would scare them to death."