in the world you
cannot leave without paying for the privilege."

He looked down on my bitterness from between his ear flaps.

"Man," he said, "when dealing with people of a racial simplicity, never
talk of paying. 'Tis in the nature of the lesser nationalities to bear
the white man as a burden."

And I laughed. It was a blessing to laugh. I thought I had forgotten
how.

"Tell me that after a month in Funchal," I said. "I will teach you a
new way of cooking cactus and how to steal sugar cane when the moon is
full."

He regarded me solemnly and shook his head.

"How long have you been here?"

"So long I would surely slip on my ear if I should ever again walk on
anything but cobbles."

"'Tis living among these islanders has taught you such simplicity. Mark
me. For two days I have not eaten. I require food, liquor, and to be
helped on my way. Your case is much the same, I take it. Good. Now I
say--I, Angus Jones--that all these things shall be procured for the two
of us.... Come, and let me restore your faith."

* * * * *

For the sake of the jest I bestirred myself and went with him, well
knowing what he would find. We climbed to the deserted Rua Da Praia,
past the red stone tower that is known as Benger's Folly, and in a
cave-like office under the blue arms of the South American Line we
approached its greasy little agent....

"Passige? Passige? Maybeso. Sometimes iss a trimmer or two dead coming
up from Rio und they need a man to Hamburg. Only you must shovel coal
all day and night. Ha, ha! How will you like that? Show me anyways your
exit receipt und I will take down the names."

"My which?" asked Angus Jones.

"Have you not paid your exit, to the customs?"

"I propose to take my exit, not pay it," said Angus Jones.

"Ha, ha. But first, my friend, you must pay. Naturally you get no wages
for a passige, therefore We cannot advance it."

"But why should--"

The agent waved his arms and faded in the cave.

"I am busy," said he, "_Va-se'mbora_!"

We proceeded along the rua to the sign of the Elder-Dempsters....

"To ship?" A bilious Anglo-Portuguese behind the desk eyed us up and
down. "Would a captain's cabin at forty pounds suit you?"

"Thanks," said Angus Jones. "I'll consider it. But in the meanwhile--"

"Have you paid the Government tax?"

"I am unable--"

"Enough," snapped the Anglo-Portuguese. "_Va-se'mbora!_"....

At the Booth Line agency we encountered