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Newspaper Page Text
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THE LOOT OF BUNGAWAN
BY WILLIAM H. KITCHELL
(Copyright, 1914, by the Newspaper Enterprise Association.)
"The boat or I kill!
Brabson rubbed bis elbow ruefully.
The yellow devil with the creese was
overworking tbe realism. Brabson
had paid Dunga Dhu fire him off the
lugger at Bungawan, but he had not
paid for a massacre. So he tipped
Dunga gently overboard and gjanced
at the beach. The man ashore was
Governor Kelly, right enough. And
the governor had seen the right, j booked for three months with me un
"It can't be true. I paid him to be
dropped at Panalay. I suppose it was
my fault" He groaned. "If it's true,
I'm ruined. The monsoon turns next
week, and I'll never get away. Where
am I, anyhow?"
"You're on Bungawan, South Phil
ippines," replied Kelly, eying the va
lise with interest. "I'm Governor Kel
ly. You're stuck, all right You're
Which was what Brabson intended.
He had come all the way down the
Archipelago to meet the governor of
Bungawan, and he did not want Kelly
to know that the meeting was pre
mediated. 'Tve left another dollar for the
swim," muttered Brabson as Dunga
came aboard again. "Now pike for
The sail went up as Brabson hur-j
ned his valise into the canoe that
floated beside the lugger. It was an
out-rigger and full of nut-brown bar
barians with mops of black hair; but
they were unarmed and smiling, and
they took mm ashore upon a big wave
that broke into soapsuds upon a
white beach backed by coco palms
Brabson shook his fist seaward and
then turned to note the effect upon
the man on the beach. They shook
hands solemnly, and Kelly frowned.
"Have a fight with the skipper?
They're a bad lot," he observed, with
"He was a rascal," returned Brab
son, nodding. "He said I was getting
off at the wrong island and that this
The governor stared.
"It ain't!" he ejaculated. "If you're
looking for Panalay, you've dropped
off at the wrong island. Yours is over
the horizon, and three hundred miles
-hson's surprise was a remark-ation.
til the monsoon changes. You- won't
regret it But what did you say your
Brabson told him, and kept certain
items of importance to himself. Un
der the sail was Dunga Dhu the only,'
man south of Manila who knew he
was Brabson and that he had been
sent down to investigate the adminis
tration of Kelly. He would have to he
a little and' bluff more; but the game
was worth the playing.
So he let Kelly take him away from
the brown men, away to the bunga
low of the governor on the edge of
They talked till evening. Then Kel
ly clapped his hands, and a native
came in with tobacco and a brazier
of .charcoal, and tiptoed out again
with a salaam to Kelly and a deeper
obeisance to the new arrivaL
"I wonder who he thinks I am?"
observed Brabson, smiling.
"I'll tell you in the morning," said
Kelly queerly. "You don't speak the
lingo, I suppose? It's Moro, with a'
dash of local color. I'm afraid I'll
have to interpret for awhile."
Brabson assented cheerfully and
grinned behind his cheroot. If Kelly
"I'll give you my bed," remarked
Kelly after the last game of cribbage..
Brabson turned in, chuckled
dreamily and fell asleep.
And morning came, as mornings
do in the East, with a quick dawn and
blistering sun. He had been hearing