xtra policemen were summoned to form all into line.

There were no scaly fish, and it came out that the shellfish were
caught by women, widows who had no men to obey or please, who had
children, or who wanted francs to buy gewgaws or tobacco; and a few
unsocial men fishers who did not abide by the common interests of
their group.

At Lovaina's we were on a tiresome round of canned salmon, eggs,
and beef, and eggs rose to six sous each. In about a fortnight we
began to have fish as usual, and Lovaina signed to me that the Dummy
procured them in the country. I was very curious, and asked if I might
accompany him. She said that he would call for me at the Annexe the
next time he went.

I was awakened after midnight in my room--the doors were never
locked--by the Dummy leaning over and shaking me. I opened my eyes,
and he put his fingers to his lips. I dressed, and went with him in
the old surrey. We drove through the night along the Broom Road. Once
past the cemetery we were in the country. The cocoanut-trees were
gray ghosts against the dark foliage and trunks of the breadfruits
and the sugar cane; the reef was a faint gleam of white over the
lagoon and a subdued sound of distant waters.

We jogged along, and as we approached Fa'a, I lit a match and looked
at my watch. It was nearly two o'clock. The Dummy stopped the horse
at Kelly's dance-hall in a palm grove. The building was of bamboo
and thatch, with a smooth floor of Oregon pine, and was a former
himene house. Kelly had rented it from the church authorities. The
dancing was over for the night, but a few carts were in the grove,
and the lights were bright. We went inside, and found forty or fifty
Tahitians, men and women, squatting or sitting on the floor, while on
the platform was Kelly himself, with his accordion on the table. He saw
me and shouted "Ia ora na!" And after a few minutes, while others came,
began to speak. What he said was interpreted by a Frenchman, who, to my
astonishment, proved to be the editor of one of those anti-government
papers printed in San Francisco, that Ivan Stroganoff had shown me.

Kelly addressed the audience, "Fishermen and fellow stiffs." He said
that the fish strike was a success, and if they all remained true to
one another, they would win, and the scales would be kicked out. The
few scabs who sold fish in the market only made sore those unable to
buy. He said that he had found out that the law applied only to the
market-plac