ts of all who
composed the picture.

"Me good fella boy," the dandy piped, half bird-like and half elf.

"You big fella fool too much," Van Horn retorted harshly, dropping his
gun into the stern-sheets, motioning to rowers and steersman to turn the
boat around, and puffing his cigar as carelessly casual as if, the moment
before, life and death had not been the debate.

"My word," he went on with fine irritable assumption. "What name you
stick 'm gun along me? Me no kai-kai (eat) along you. Me kai-kai along
you, stomach belong me walk about. You kai-kai along me, stomach belong
you walk about. You no like 'm kai-kai Su'u boy belong along you? Su'u
boy belong you all the same brother along you. Long time before, three
monsoon before, me speak 'm true speak. Me say three monsoon boy come
back. My word, three monsoon finish, boy stop along me come back."

By this time the boat had swung around, reversing bow and stern, Van Horn
pivoting so as to face the Snider-armed dandy. At another signal from
Van Horn the rowers backed water and forced the boat, stern in, up to the
solid ground of the runway. And each rower, his oar in position in case
of attack, privily felt under the canvas flap to make sure of the exact
location of his concealed Lee-Enfield.

"All right boy belong you walk about?" Van Horn queried of the dandy, who
signified the affirmative in the Solomon Islands fashion by half-closing
his eyes and nodding his head upward, in a queer, perky way;

"No kai-kai 'm Su'u fella boy suppose walk about along you?"

"No fear," the dandy answered. "Suppose 'm Su'u fella boy, all right.
Suppose 'm no fella Su'u boy, my word, big trouble. Ishikola, big fella
black marster along this place, him talk 'm me talk along you. Him say
any amount bad fella boy stop 'm along bush. Him say big fella white
marster no walk about. Him say jolly good big fella white marster stop
'm along ship."

Van Horn nodded in an off-hand way, as if the information were of little
value, although he knew that for this time Su'u would furnish him no
fresh recruits. One at a time, compelling the others to remain in their
places, he directed the return boys astern and ashore. It was Solomon
Islands tactics. Crowding was dangerous. Never could the blacks be
risked to confusion in numbers. And Van Horn, smoking his cigar in
lordly indifferent fashion, kept his apparently uninterested eyes glued
to each boy who made his way aft, box