man. I vant you to stay joost as long
as you feel like staying. But I vant to ask you one t'ing, joost one
t'ing."

"I'll do anything you say, sir."

The fat, jovial skipper of the _Persian Gulf_ eyed Peter with beady,
cunning eyes, and Peter was suddenly conscious of a sinking sensation.

"Joost one t'ing. Better, first I should say, ven you t'row overboard
der coolies you dislike, it vould be best not to keep--vat are dey
called--der soufenirs. Sooch t'ings as peestols."

"But, _mynheer_----"

The fat hand waved him to silence.

"Bot' of dem vas bad Chinks. I know. I know bot' of dose coolies a
long, long time. T'ieves and blood men. _Tot ver vlomme_! It iss
gude rittance, as you say. Young man, I haf nodding but one more t'ing
to tell you. I say, I like you--immensely. I vant you very much to
stay. But der next time coolies are to be t'rown over der side, I will
be pleased to haf you ask my permission."

Peter stared hard at the fat little man, with a quick glaze of
gratitude over his eyes. The skipper left him, doubling back in the
direction of the wheel-house. And something in the unsteadiness of the
broad, plump shoulders gave to Peter in his perplexity the not
inaccurate notion that the fat little man had enjoyed his joke and was
giggling to such an extent that it almost interfered with his dignified
strut.

Before buckling down to the day's business he made sure of one thing.
Gone from his stateroom was the revolver with its Maxim silencer.

Because the wireless room at sea is a sort of lounging-room for those
passengers who are bored from reading, or poker, or promenading, or
simply are incompetent to amuse themselves without external assistance,
Peter ignored the dozen pair of curious and interested eyes which were
focussed on his white uniform as he passed, with those telltale
chevrons of golden sparks at the sleeves, strode into the wireless
cabin, hastily closed the door, locked it, and thereupon gave his
attention to the void.

He was not surprised to hear the shrill yap of the Manila station
dinning in the receivers, and having no desire to allow his fair name
to be besmirched by what might be professional inattention to duty, he
gave Manila a crackling response, and told him to shoot and shoot fast,
as he had a stack of business on hand, which was the truth.

Steamship and commercial messages were awaiting his nimble fingers, a
half-dozen of them, in a neat little pile where