ough.

The chief had a bottle of skimpin ready. He set a slave to wash Smidt's
head, and clothed him in a snowy bajo. No questions did he ask. Smidt told
his short story, and begged him to pursue the malefactor.

'No good, sir,' said the chief. 'I policeman here--I know. Where you think
Ahtan?'

'In the jungle, I suppose, making for Kuching with the great nugget he
picked out of the rock. Send to warn the Tuan magistrate, at least.'

'I say, sir, I Tuan magistrate here, and I know.' He unlocked a coffer,
iron-bound, using three separate keys; brought out a parcel wrapped in
cloth and slowly unfolded it, looking at Smidt the while, his narrow eyes
twinkling.

'You say nugget, hey?'

Smidt gasped. It was a lump of gold as big as his two fists.

'Is this--is this mine?'

The chief sat down to laugh and rolled about, spluttering Chinese
interjections.

'Is this mine? He-he-he-he! Mine? This gold, sir! Kunsi take gold--all
gold here! You says, mine, sir? Ha! ha! ha!'

Smidt did not feel assured of his legal rights.

'You took it from Ahtan?' he asked. 'Did you arrest him?'

The chief had another fit. Recovering, he answered, 'Ahtan down this way,'
and stamped upon the ground.

'In the cellar? Oh, that's a comfort! I'll carry him to Kuching
to-morrow.'

This caused another outburst of merriment. 'I tell, sir, I Tuan magistrate
at Bau. Ahtan he under order for kingdom come to-night.'

This was rather shocking. 'Oh, I don't ask that. He must be tried.'

'What your matter, sir?' the chief snapped out. 'I try him, and I say die!
Ahtan is Kunsi man. He play trick before--I let him go. We catch him on
river with gold. He die this time.'

Doubtless he did--not for attempted murder, but for breaking his oath to
the Kunsi. Smidt ought to have denounced this monstrous illegality to the
Rajah. But his firm did a great business with Chinamen, and their secret
societies have a very long arm. I imagine that he held his tongue.

STORY OF CYPRIPEDIUM SPICERIANUM

The annals of Cypripedium Spicerianum open in 1878, when Mrs. Spicer, a
lady residing at Wimbledon, asked Messrs. Veitch to come and see a curious
flower, very lovely, as she thought, which had made its appearance in her
green-house. Messrs. Veitch came; with no extravagant hopes perhaps, for
experience might well make them distrustful of feminine enthusiasm. But in
this instance it was more than justified, and, in short, they carried off
the marvel,