Then the girl appeared, pale, composed, coming straight up to Lund, who halted his stride at sight of her. "Will you change the course, Mr. Lund?" she said. He looked at her in surprise. "Father spoke once more. After you left. He does not want you to go on to Unalaska. He said it would mean a rush for the gold; perhaps you would have to stay there. He does not want you to lose the gold. He wants me to have my share. He made me promise. And he wants--he wants"--she bit her lip fiercely in repression of her feelings--"to be buried at sea. That was his last request." She turned and looked over the rail, struggling to wink back her tears. Rainey saw the giant's glance sweep over her, full of admiration. "As you wish, Miss Peggy," he said. "Hansen, 'bout ship. Hold on a minnit. How about you, Miss Peggy? If you want to go home, we can find ways at Unalaska. I play fair. I'll bring back yore share--in full." "I am not thinking about the gold," the girl said scornfully. "But I want to carry out my father's last wishes, if you will permit me. I shall stay with the ship. Now I am going back to him. You--you"--she quelled the tremble of her mouth, and her chin showed firm and determined--"you can arrange for the funeral to-morrow at dawn, if you will. I want him to-night." Her face quivered piteously, but she conquered even that and walked to the companionway. "Game, by God, game as they make 'em!" said Lund. CHAPTER XII DEMING BREAKS AN ARM Rainey, dozing in his bunk, going over the sudden happenings of the day, had placed Carlsen's automatic under his pillow after loading it. He found that it lacked four shells of full capacity, the two that Lund had fired at his bottle target, the one fired by Carlsen at Rainey, and the last ineffective shot at Lund, a shot that went astray, Rainey decided, largely through Lund's _coup-de-theatre_ of tearing off his glasses and flinging them at the doctor. The dynamo that he had idly fancied he could hear purring away inside of Lund was apparent with vengeance now, driving with full force. That was what Lund would be from now on, a driver, imperative, relentless, overcoming all obstacles; as he had himself said, selfish at heart, keen for his own ends. Rainey was neither a weakling nor a coward, but he shrank from open encounter with Lund, and knew himself, without fear, the weaker man. The challenge of Lund, splendidly daring any one of them to come out against him alone, and challenging them _en masse_, had found in Rainey an acknowledgment of inferiority that was not merely physical. Lund knew far more than he did about the class of men that made up the inhabitants of the _Karluk_. Rainey had once fondly hugged the delusion that he knew something of the nature of those who "went down to the sea in ships."