"Well, she's a good one, that's all, and a cool one. My word! a white woman on Malaita, and at Poonga-Poonga of all places! Oh, I forgot to tell you--she palavered Burnett into lending her eight rifles for her men, and three cases of dynamite. You'd laugh to see the way she makes that Guvutu gang stand around. And to see them being polite and trying to give advice! Lord, Lord, man, that little girl's a wonder, a marvel, a--a--a catastrophe. That's what she is, a catastrophe. She's gone through Guvutu and Tulagi like a hurricane; every last swine of them in love with her--except Raff. He's sore over the auction, and he sprang his recruiting contract with Munster on her. And what does she do but thank him, and read it over, and point out that while Munster was pledged to deliver all recruits to Morgan and Raff, there was no clause in the document forbidding him from chartering the _Emily_. "'There's your contract,' says she, passing it back. 'And a very good contract it is. The next time you draw one up, insert a clause that will fit emergencies like the present one.' And, Lord, Lord, she had him, too. "But there's the breeze, and I'm off. Good-bye, old man. Hope the little girl succeeds. The _Martha's_ a whacking fine boat, and she'd take the place of the _Jessie_." CHAPTER XVII--"YOUR" MISS LACKLAND The next morning Sheldon came in from the plantation to breakfast, to find the mission ketch, _Apostle_, at anchor, her crew swimming two mares and a filly ashore. Sheldon recognized the animals as belonging to the Resident Commissioner, and he immediately wondered if Joan had bought them. She was certainly living up to her threat of rattling the dry bones of the Solomons, and he was prepared for anything. "Miss Lackland sent them," said Welshmere, the missionary doctor, stepping ashore and shaking hands with him. "There's also a box of saddles on board. And this letter from her. And the skipper of the _Flibberty-Gibbet_." The next moment, and before he could greet him, Oleson stepped from the boat and began. "She's stolen the _Flibberty_, Mr. Sheldon. Run clean away with her. She's a wild one. She gave me the fever. Brought it on by shock. And got me drunk, as well--rotten drunk." Dr. Welshmere laughed heartily. "Nevertheless, she is not an unmitigated evil, your Miss Lackland. She's sworn three men off their drink, or, to the same purpose, shut off their whisky. You know them--Brahms, Curtis, and Fowler. She shipped them on the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ along with her." "She's the skipper of the _Flibberty_ now," Oleson broke in. "And she'll wreck her as sure as God didn't make the Solomons." Dr. Welshmere tried to look shocked, but laughed again.