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Newspaper Page Text
that the island treasury overflowed
from Brabsori's desk1 into a kerosene
tin and a waste-basket. For Kelly's
schemes were working.' When a na
tive is fighting mad to pay ten dollars,
Mexican, a month for the fun of
keeping nine street lamps alight, and
as much 'more for- the privilege of
licensing cockfights in his own par
ticular village, there is profit in gov
ernment. There were but two of
thirty plans -for public ownership of
private wealth, and they all worked.
For instance, Brabson took a walk
one morning along the beach.
Under a gayly decorated booth that
was one of the many along the beach
stood a crowd of gayly decorated na
tives, and Samale was in the middle
of the crowd enjoying himself. He
was throwing baseballs at gayly deco
rated rows of wooden dolls. It was an
expensive pastime, for there was a
signinMoro: "Six balls for a Dollar.
No Trust Get Back at the Devil. If
You Hit Three in Succession, Your
Sins Are Forgiven, and You Get Your
Money Back." Brabson .knew East
ern theology. Samale was getting
square with the gods of Bungawan.
"What next?" asked Brabson,
grinning, when he returned to the
It was the day after the soda-water
monopoly was instituted that Samale
entered the governor's office and laid
an inlaid box of mother-of-pearl upon
the desk. Brabson bowed, "and Sa
male salaamed with dignity.. He was
about to walk out when Kelly stop
"Blamed if he wasn't going without
a receipt!" chuckled Kelly in an aside.
"A receipt for what?" asked Brab
son, opening the box.
It was half full of pearls.
"I thought! warned you about the
bank," replied Kelly with surprise. "I
started one in your name. We've
taken in over nine thousand inr cash,
already, and a berry basket full of
pearls. -We've got a savings depart
ment and a safe-deposit vault, and if
the monsoon gfres us time .enough
we'll start a corner on the copra
Brabson nodded absently.,
Was it possible that Kelly had nc
suspicion of the truth?
With the changing of the monsoon
came a change in Kelly.
"You're not looking well," said
Brabson wickedly one morning.
"There's a reason," replied Kellj
sourly, looking seaward. His tone al
tered strangely. "I've just heard of a
native in the jungle who hasn't paid
his hut tax. I'jn going after him."
Brabson gazed nonchalantly sea
ward. On the horizon was a tiny
thread of black smoke, and nearei
was a dab of dirty white against the
background of the sea. The gunboat
was coming and so was Dunga
"You'll come along, of course,"
"Of course," returned Brabson,
Kelly went out for his" hat, -while
Brabson tiptoed toward his desk. His
valise was under it, and into it he
packed the loot of Bungawan. He
grinned as he locked the valise with
in the desk. Then Kelly stood behind
"Well be back before sundown.
You needn't lock the office," said
But Brabson locked the door.
At noon the next day they were still
searching for the native who had not
paid his hut tax. Brabson knew that
there was no hutin the jungle. He
knew the game. Kelly wanted to lose
him and then get off with the loot.
So he stuck close behind him. He
would keep Kelly inland until the
gunboat was safe over the reef. There
was no rusting Dunga Dhu.
Suddenly Kelly laughed.
"Are you tired?" he queried .with a
"Oh, no," replied Brabson
"You ar$. And you're twelve miles
from anywherer and lost' besides,"
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