“What do you think of them?” she asked.

“Oh, old Von Blix is all right, a solid sort of chap in his fashion; but Tudor is fly-away—­too much on the surface, you know.  If it came to being wrecked on a desert island, I’d prefer Von Blix.”

“I don’t quite understand,” Joan objected.  “What have you against Tudor?”

“You remember Browning’s ’Last Duchess’?”

She nodded.

“Well, Tudor reminds me of her—­”

“But she was delightful.”

“So she was.  But she was a woman.  One expects something different from a man—­more control, you know, more restraint, more deliberation.  A man must be more solid, more solid and steady-going and less effervescent.  A man of Tudor’s type gets on my nerves.  One demands more repose from a man.”

Joan felt that she did not quite agree with his judgment; and, somehow, Sheldon caught her feeling and was disturbed.  He remembered noting how her eyes had brightened as she talked with the newcomer—­confound it all, was he getting jealous? he asked himself.  Why shouldn’t her eyes brighten?  What concern was it of his?

A second boat had been lowered, and the outfit of the shore party was landed rapidly.  A dozen of the crew put the knocked-down boats together on the beach.  There were five of these craft—­lean and narrow, with flaring sides, and remarkably long.  Each was equipped with three paddles and several iron-shod poles.

“You chaps certainly seem to know river-work,” Sheldon told one of the carpenters.

The man spat a mouthful of tobacco-juice into the white sand, and answered,—­

“We use ’em in Alaska.  They’re modelled after the Yukon poling-boats, and you can bet your life they’re crackerjacks.  This creek’ll be a snap alongside some of them Northern streams.  Five hundred pounds in one of them boats, an’ two men can snake it along in a way that’d surprise you.”

At sunset the Martha broke out her anchor and got under way, dipping her flag and saluting with a bomb gun.  The Union Jack ran up and down the staff, and Sheldon replied with his brass signal-cannon.  The miners pitched their tents in the compound, and cooked on the beach, while Tudor dined with Joan and Sheldon.

Their guest seemed to have been everywhere and seen everything and met everybody, and, encouraged by Joan, his talk was largely upon his own adventures.  He was an adventurer of adventurers, and by his own account had been born into adventure.  Descended from old New England stock, his father a consul-general, he had been born in Germany, in which country he had received his early education and his accent.  Then, still a boy, he had rejoined his father in Turkey, and accompanied him later to Persia, his father having been appointed Minister to that country.