spoke, a meaningless jumble of sounds. His voice, though
light and thin, nevertheless seemed to be of powerful timbre.

Seaton smiled in return and saluted.

"Hello, Chief. I get your idea all right, and we're glad you're
peaceable, but your language doesn't mean a thing in my young life."

The Chief tapped himself upon the chest, saying distinctly and
impressively:

"Nalboon."

"Nalboon," repeated Seaton, and added, pointing to himself:

"Seaton."

"See Tin," answered the stranger, and again indicating himself, "Domak
gok Mardonale."

"That must be his title," thought Seaton rapidly. "Have to give myself
one, I guess."

"Boss of the Road," he replied, drawing himself up with pride.

The introduction made, Nalboon pointed to the wrecked plane, inclined
his head in thanks, and turned to his people with one arm upraised,
shouting an order in which Seaton could distinguish something that
sounded like "See Tin, Bass uvvy Rood." Instantly every right arm in the
assemblage was aloft, that of each man bearing a weapon, while the left
arms snapped into the peculiar salute and a mighty cry arose as all
repeated the name and title of the distinguished visitor.

Seaton turned to the Skylark, motioning to Crane to open the door.

"Bring out one of those big four-color signal rockets, Mart!" he called.
"They're giving us a royal reception--let's acknowledge it right."

* * * * *

The party appeared, Crane carrying the huge rocket with an air of
deference. As they approached, Seaton shrugged one shoulder and his
cigarette-case appeared in his hand. Nalboon started, and in spite of
his utmost efforts at self-control, he glanced at it in surprise. The
case flew open and Seaton, taking a cigarette, extended the case.

"Smoke?" he asked affably. The other took one, but showed plainly that
he had no idea of the use to which it was to be put. This astonishment
of the stranger at a simple sleight-of-hand feat and his apparent
ignorance of tobacco emboldened Seaton. Reaching into his mouth, he
pulled out a flaming match, at which Nalboon started violently. While
all the natives watched in amazement, Seaton lighted the cigarette, and
after half consuming it in two long inhalations, he apparently swallowed
the remainder, only to bring it to light again. Having smoked it, he
apparently swallowed the butt, with evident relish.

"They don't know anything about matches or smoking," he said, turning