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diff --git a/old/69547-0.txt b/old/69547-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 114237f..0000000 --- a/old/69547-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10428 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Never the twain shall meet, by Peter -B. Kyne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Never the twain shall meet - -Author: Peter B. Kyne - -Release Date: December 15, 2022 [eBook #69547] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Al Haines, John Routh & the online Distributed Proofreaders - Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEVER THE TWAIN SHALL -MEET *** - - - - - - - NEVER THE TWAIN - SHALL MEET - - BY - PETER B. KYNE - - AUTHOR OF - CAPPY RICKS RETIRES, - THE PRIDE OF PALOMAR, - KINDRED OF THE DUST, ETC. - - - GROSSET & DUNLAP - PUBLISHERS NEW YORK - - Made in the United States of America - - - - - _Copyright, 1923, by_ - PETER B. KYNE - - _All Rights Reserved, including that of translation into foreign - languages,_ - _including the Scandinavian_ - - - _Manufactured in the United States of America_ - - - - - _To a Little Girl_— - - who believed - that when the fairies married, - one might, by lying very quietly - in the grass, - hear the bluebells ringing - - Never the Twain Shall Meet - - - - - CHAPTER I - - -It was a song that never before had been sung; once sung, never again -would it be heard. Such a song, indeed, as little girls croon to their -dolls; half funeral chant, half hymn, sung in a minor key by a girl with -a powerfully sweet lyric soprano. The last of the land breeze carried it -aft to Gaston Larrieau, the master of the 200-ton auxiliary trading -schooner Moorea, where he stood on the top step of the companion, his -leonine head and tremendous shoulders showing above the deck-house, as -he smoked his first after-breakfast pipe. - -While he listened, a shadow passed over the man’s face, as when winds -drive a dark cloud above a sunny plain. He removed his pipe thoughtfully -to murmur: - -“Ah, my poor Tamea! Dear child of the sun! Homesick already!” Then he -came out on deck and stood by the weather rail, looking forward until he -espied the figure of the singer stretched face downward, at full length, -alongside the bowsprit, but snuggled comfortably in the belly of the -jib. One arm enveloped the bowsprit; at each rise and fall of the -Moorea’s long clipper bow, her feet, sandal-clad, beat the canvas in -rhythm. And, because she was young and athrill with the music of the -spheres, because the dark blue water purling under the schooner’s -forefoot brought to her memories of the insistent, peaceful swish of the -surf enveloping the outer reef at Riva, the girl Tamea sang: - - “Behold! Tamea, Queen of Riva, - Has forsaken her mother’s people. - In her father’s great canoe called Moorea - After the mother of Tamea, who loved him, - Tamea sails over a cold sea - To the white man’s country. - Tamea is happy and curious. - But if the hearts in this new land - Are cold as the fog this morning, - Then will the heart of Tamea grow heavy. - Then will she weep for a sight of Riva. - Then will she yearn for love and pleasure, - For dancing and feasting; for the water - White on the reef where the fishermen stand . . .” - -“I must shake her out of that mood,” Larrieau muttered, and strode aft -to the wheel. The Tahitian helmsman gave way to him and as the master -put the helm down and the schooner came sharply up into the wind and -hung there shivering her canvas until it cracked like pistol shots, -Tamea rose briskly from her hammock in the belly of the jib and stood -poised on the bowsprit, with one hand clasping the jib to steady her. -The suddenness with which she had been disturbed and the air of regal -hauteur she assumed as she faced aft for an explanation from the -Tahitian helmsman, who had now resumed the wheel and was easing the -Moorea away on her course once more, brought a bellow of Brobdingnagian -laughter from Larrieau. - -Tamea came aft with stately tread, pausing at the forward end of the -deck-house. “So it was you, great, wicked Frenchman,” she cried in a -Polynesian dialect. “Truly, my father forgets that he is but a wandering -trader, while I am Tamea, Queen of Riva!” Simulating a royal fury she -was far from feeling, Tamea grasped a bucket attached to a rope, dropped -it overboard, drew it back filled with water and, poising it in position -to hurl its contents, advanced to the assault. - -“_Tiens!_” Gaston Larrieau chuckled. “I shall never succeed in making a -Christian of you. It is written that even a queen shall honor her father -and mother? nevertheless you, my own child, would dishonor me with sea -water!” As she threatened him laughingly, he leaped for the opposite -corner of the deck-house, and she saw that it was his humor to invite -the deluge. Wherefore, with the perversity of her sex and royal blood, -she deluged the helmsman, who stood grinning at her. - -“Your eye belongs on the lubber’s mark, on the sails, on the -horizon—anywhere but on me, Kahanaha,” she admonished the amazed -fellow. And then, while Gaston Larrieau, momentarily off guard, stood -roaring great gales of laughter at the discomfited Kahanaha, Queen Tamea -of Riva dashed into his face fully a quart of water remaining in the -bucket. She smiled upon Larrieau adorably. - -“He laughs best who laughs last. Kahanaha, you may laugh.” - -Larrieau dashed the water from his bush of a beard. “_Nom d’un chien!_ -This is mutiny. Tamea, come here!” But Tamea merely wrinkled her nose at -him, and when he charged at her she cried aloud, half delighted, half -deliciously apprehensive, and started up the starboard main shrouds. Her -father followed her, moving, despite his sixty years and his tremendous -bulk, with something of the ease and swiftness of a bear. - -At the masthead Tamea cowered, pretending to be frightened and cornered, -until his hand reached for her slim ankle; when without the slightest -hesitation she sprang for the backstay and went whizzing swiftly down to -the deck. Here she threw him a peace offering, in the way of a kiss, but -he ignored her. From the masthead he was looking out over the low-lying -smear of fog that shrouded the coast of California, and the girl -thrilled as his stentorian voice rang through the ship. - -“Land, ho!” - -Within a few minutes the Moorea had slipped through the cordon of fog -into the sunshine. Off to starboard the red hull of the lightship loomed -vividly against the blue of sea and sky; a white pilot schooner ratched -lazily across their bows, while off to port three gasoline trawlers out -of San Francisco coughed violently away toward the Cordelia banks, their -hulls painted in bizarre effects of Mediterranean blue with yellow decks -and upper works. Their Sicilian crews waved tassled, multicolored -tam-o’-shanter caps at Tamea and when she threw kisses to them with both -hands they shouted their approval in ringing fashion. - -From Point San Pedro on the south to Point Reyes on the north fifty -miles of green, mountainous shore line sweeping down abruptly to -ocher-tinted bluffs lay outspread before Tamea. She viewed it with mixed -feelings of awe, delight and a half sensed feeling of apprehension, for -all that enthralling vision impressed her with the thought that beyond -the indentation which her father called to her was the Golden Gate, lay -another world of romance, of dreams, curiosity-compelling, palpitant -with something of the same warmth that had nurtured Tamea in the little -known, seldom visited and uncharted island kingdom under the Southern -Cross. Following the fashion of her people when their emotions are -profoundly stirred, again Tamea’s golden voice was lifted in a -semi-chant, an improvised pæan of appreciation. - -Down through the entrance the Moorea ramped, with Tamea standing far out -on the bowsprit, as if she would be the first to arrive, the first to -see the wonders she felt certain lurked just around the bend behind -crumbling old Fort Winfield Scott. As she leaned against the jib stay -and held on with her elbows she searched the shore line with her -father’s marine glasses until, the Moorea having loafed up to the -quarantine grounds, the crew disturbed the girl in order to take in the -headsails. - -They were scarcely snugged down before the Customs tug scraped -alongside. While Gaston was down below in the cabin presenting his -papers for the inspection of the port officer, a representative of the -Public Health Service examined the crew on deck. Before Tamea he stood -several moments in silent admiration. Then he asked: - -“Miss, do you speak English?” - -Tamea looked him over with frank admiration and approval. “You bet your -sweet life I speak English,” she replied melodiously; and from her -English the doctor knew that she also spoke French. Having heard her -giving an order to the Kanaka steward in an alien tongue, he concluded -she spoke Hawaiian and sought confirmation of that conclusion. - -“No, mister, I do not speak Hawaiian,” said Tamea. “I can understand -much of it, because all Polynesian languages are derived from the same -Aryan source. The difference between the hundreds of languages in -Polynesia is mostly one of dialect—phonetic differences, you know.” - -He sighed. “I didn’t know, but I’m glad to find out—from you. Are you -Venus or Juno or one of the Valkyries from some tropical Valhalla?” - -“Now you grow very queer,” she retorted soberly. “You make the josh, and -I do not like men who do that. I am Tamea Oluolu Larrieau. I am the -Queen of Riva, and in Riva it is taboo to josh the Queen.” - -“I think the Queen is a josher, however,” he replied gravely. - -“Ah! You do not believe, then, that I am the Queen of Riva?” - -“No, I do not. You’re the Queen of Hearts.” - -Fortunately for Tamea she knew how to play casino and was, therefore, -acquainted with the queen of hearts. Hence she could assimilate the -compliment, and a ravishing smile was the reward of the daring doctor. - -He bowed low. - -“Will Tamea Oluolu Larrieau, Queen of Riva—wherever that may be, if it -isn’t another name for Paradise, since an houri has come from -Riva—oblige a mere mortal by opening her mouth, sticking out her tongue -and saying, ‘_Ah-h-h!_’—like that.” - -“Why?” There was suspicion in Tamea’s glance now. - -“It is a ceremonial peculiar to this country, Your Majesty. It is -required of all visitors, of whatever rank. An Indian prince did it -yesterday and a _dato_ from Java will do it this afternoon.” - -Tamea shrugged—a Gallic shrug—and complied. - -“What a lovely death it would be to be fatally bitten by those teeth! -Now, just one more ceremonial, if you please. It is required that I -shall look into your eyes very closely. You may have trachoma, but if -you have I’ll never survive the shock of having to deport you.” - -Again Tamea shrugged. A peculiar custom, she thought, but one that was -not difficult to comply with. - -“Well, if you’re a fair sample of the womanhood of Riva, O Tamea Oluolu -Larrieau, I’m mighty glad that I’m not a practicing physician there. I -should never earn a fee.” - -“And if you should earn a fee nobody would think of paying it,” she -laughed. “Perhaps, if you liked bananas or coconuts——” And her -shoulders came up in collaboration, as it were, with an adorable little -_moue_. The young doctor laughed happily. - -“Alas! God help the poor missionaries with sirens like her on every -hand,” he thought as he descended into the cabin, where Larrieau was in -conference with an immigration official touching his daughter’s right to -land. This detail was, happily, quickly passed and the health officer -tapped Gaston Larrieau on the arm. - -“Captain, it will be necessary for me to give you a physical examination -before I can issue your vessel a clean bill of health.” - -“Open your mouth and say, ‘_Ah-h-h!_’” commanded Tamea, who had followed -the doctor below. “Then open your eyes and look wise. Is my father not a -frail little man, eh?” she demanded of the doctor. - -“The examination of this physical wreck is merely a matter of routine, -Your Majesty.” - -Gaston Larrieau; came close to the doctor and opened his cavernous -mouth. - -“_Ah-h-h!_” he said. - -“Ah!” the doctor repeated softly—and touched lightly, in succession, a -slightly puffed spot high up on each of the captain’s cheeks. As he -pressed the color fled, leaving a somewhat sickly whitish spot that -stood out prominently in an otherwise ruddy face. A moment later the -spots in question had regained their original color, which had been a -ruddiness somewhat less pronounced than the surrounding tissue. - -Perhaps only a doctor’s eye—an eye especially alert for such -spots—would have detected them. - -“Is this not a fine doctor, father Larrieau!” Tamea exclaimed almost -breathlessly. “You open your mouth—and he looks at your eyes!” - -The health officer glanced at her. A minute before he had noted -particularly the glory of her complexion—pale gold, with an old-rose -tint, very faintly diffused through the clear skin, like a yellow light -masked by a pale pink silk cloth. Now the rose tint was gone and old -ivory had replaced the pale gold. There was a gleam of excitement, of -fear, in her smoky eyes, and the smile which accompanied her attempted -badinage was just a bit forced. As the glances of the two met each -realized that the other _knew_! - -“I cannot help it; I must do my duty,” the doctor murmured helplessly, -and turned to look down Gaston Larrieau’s open throat. “Any soreness in -the nose, Captain?” - -“A little, of late, Doctor.” - -“Any other pain?” - -“Well, for a couple of months I’ve had a small, steady pain in my right -shoulder—like rheumatism.” - -“No. It is neuritis.” He picked up the captain’s ham-like hand and noted -on the back of it, close to the knuckles, the same faintly white, puffy -spots. “Now please remove your shirt.” - -Tamea’s eyes closed in momentary pain before she retired to a stateroom -adjoining the main cabin. Larrieau removed his shirt and the doctor -examined his torso critically. On his back, partially covering the right -scapula, he found that which he sought. “That will be all,” he informed -Larrieau. “Replace your garments.” - -An assistant poured some disinfectant on his hands and he washed them -vigorously in it, wiping them on a handkerchief which he tossed -overboard through a porthole. At a sign from the doctor the others went -on deck. - -He lighted a cigarette and when Larrieau faced him inquiringly he said: - -“Now, regarding your daughter, Captain. What are your plans for her?” - -“I have brought her up to San Francisco to place her in a convent to -complete her education. As you have observed, she speaks English very -well, but with a very slight French accent. She has had some schooling -in English, but not very much.” - -“Her mother, I take it, is a Polynesian.” - -“Pure-bred Polynesian. She died a year ago, during the influenza -epidemic.” - -“Forgive me, Captain, if my questions appear impertinent. They are not, -strictly speaking, questions which I should ask you, but under the -circumstances the immigration officer has left the asking of them to me. -Have you or your daughter any friends or relatives in this country?” - -“We have no relatives, Monsieur Doctor, and the only friends I have in -this country are my owners.” - -“Is your financial situation such that, should you be taken away from -your daughter, she would be provided for to the extent that she would -not be likely to become a public charge?” - -Gaston Larrieau smiled. “And you ask that of a Frenchman, to whom thrift -is a virtue? I have not traded among the South Pacific islands more than -thirty-five years to come away without the price of a peaceful old age. -I am worth a quarter of a million dollars, and with the exception of a -few pearls and a quarter interest in this vessel, all of my fortune is -in cash.” - -“Did you plan to return to the Islands after placing your child in -school here?” - -“_Parbleu_, no! No one could manage Tamea without my help. I am finished -with the sea. All of my interests and those of Tamea in the South have -been sold. Two years hence, when Tamea has grown used to civilized -customs, we will return to France—to Brittany, where I was born.” - -“Tamea will probably marry well in France,” the doctor suggested. - -“Yes. We Frenchmen are more democratic than Americans or the English in -our choice of wives. The fact that my Tamea is half Polynesian—ah, they -would not forget that, though she is more wonderful than a white girl! I -was married to her mother,” he added, as if he suspected the doctor -might secretly be questioning that point. “We were married by the -mission priest in Nukahiva.” - -The doctor finished his cigarette and suddenly hurled the butt through -the porthole. “Lord!” he growled. “I’m so tired of breaking people’s -hearts and shattering their hopes.” - -“Eh? What is that? Have you, then, unpleasant news for me?” - -The doctor nodded gravely. “Captain, I have very unpleasant news for -you. Dreadful news, in fact. While I hesitate to state so absolutely -until a microscopic examination has been made and the presence of the -bacillus in your body determined beyond question, I am morally certain -that you have contracted—leprosy!” - -The master of the Moorea met the terrible blow as a ship meets an -unexpected squall. He flinched and trembled for a moment, then righted -himself. His wind-and-sun-bitten face and neck went greenish white; his -eyes closed for perhaps ten seconds; his shoulders sagged and his great -breast heaved with a single sigh. In those ten seconds old age appeared -to have touched him for the first time. When his eyes opened again he -was the same calm, good-natured, almost boyish man who had romped -through the rigging of the Moorea with his child that morning. He smiled -a little sadly—and shrugged. - -“Well, that’s over,” he murmured. “I am very sorry for you, Doctor. -These things are very unpleasant. However, I have no regrets. I have -enjoyed my life—down yonder—because nothing matters. There are not -many rules and regulations—and we ignore them.” - -“It is different here.” - -“Alas, yes!” - -“You are a naturalized citizen of the United States?” - -“Yes, Monsieur Doctor.” - -“It is my duty to remove you from this schooner to the quarantine -station at Angel Island. You will be held there for observation, and -when the fact that you are a leper is officially determined, you will be -removed to the Isolation Hospital in San Francisco. However, it might be -arranged to have you sent to the colony at Molokai. If you were not a -citizen of the United States you would be deported to the country of -which you are a subject.” - -“We have said good-by to Riva and the South, and we are not going back. -The white blood predominates in my girl; I want her to live her life -among white men and women. Besides, she can afford it. She may marry -some fine fellow here. Who knows? I had picked on Brittany for my old -age—so Molokai will not do. _Bon dieu!_ I should have such ennui in -Molokai. I could not stand that.” - -“Rules and regulations, Captain,” the doctor reminded him -sympathetically. - -Gaston Larrieau shook his head. “Old Gaston of the Beard caged like a -pet monkey, eh? I think not.” He sat down and tugged at his beard -thoughtfully. “Well, one thing is certain,” he continued. “It is more -than seventeen years since I begot Tamea. I was clean then and for all -the years since until this morning.” - -“Non-leprous children are born of leprous parents, Captain. Tamea is -clean.” - -“She must not know that I am not.” - -“Ah, but she does know it.” - -Larrieau sprang erect, terrible. “You dared to tell her——” he roared, -and advanced with upraised hand. - -“Sit down. The girl has eyes, and in Riva she has, doubtless, seen more -than one leper. I told her nothing. Listen, Captain.” - -From the stateroom came the sound of a muffled sob. - -Larrieau sat down, dumb and distressed. “Yes, there is leprosy in Riva. -And tuberculosis and worse. The scourges of our white civilization are -creeping in and where they strike there is no hope. So I brought Tamea -away—only to be stricken—— Well, I knew that was one of the risks I -had to take, and a life without risks is as an egg without salt. In my -day I have adventured in strange and terrible places, and while this is -the very devil of a joke to have fate play on me, still”—he shrugged -again—“I have lived my life and I have loved my love, and by the blood -of the devil, life owes me nothing. I am ready! _Voilà!_” And the Triton -snapped his fingers. “I am no mealy-mouthed clerk to go whimpering to my -finish, protesting at the last that my heart is breaking with sorrow for -my sins.” He laughed his mellow, resonant, roaring laugh. - -“No, no. Old Gaston of the Beard has enjoyed his sins. They were not -many, for I was ever a simple man, but such sins as I had—ah, they were -magnificent! I have children in a hundred islands. But Tamea is the -child of my love, and like her mother she is a glorious pagan.” - -“You say her mother is dead.” - -Gaston of the Beard nodded. “She was a queen and believed herself -descended from her Polynesian gods. Damnation! She had every right to, -for she was a goddess. Tall, Monsieur Doctor—six feet, for she came of -a race of hereditary rulers and in Polynesia before the white men came -to ruin and degenerate these children of nature, a king was not a king -in very truth unless, standing among his people, he could gaze over -their heads as one gazes over a wheat field from the top rail of a -fence. Tamea’s great-great-grandfather was deposed and exiled to an -island five hundred miles to the west, where his enemies enslaved him. -In his old age his people rescued him and offered him the scepter he had -lost in his youth. But he would not accept, for age and toil had crooked -his back and he could no longer stand head and shoulders over his -people.” - -“What a magnificent old chap he must have been, Captain!” said the -doctor. - -Larrieau nodded. “Tamea’s mother, Moorea, could walk! You, my young -friend, have never seen a woman walk; it is a lost art; our women mince -or hop or strut. Moorea was a beautiful woman in point of features. Her -hair was a wonderful seal-brown and her skin—well, her skin——” - -“Was Tamea’s,” the doctor interrupted. - -Gaston of the Beard smiled and nodded. “She was regal of bearing and -regal of soul—and the missionaries called her a heathen. For years I -kept them out of Riva, with their mummery of morals and religion. Why, -there was no sin in Riva until I came—and then it wasn’t recognized -until the missionaries gave it a name. Monsieur Doctor, behold a man who -dwelt in Eden until the serpents drove him out.” - -The doctor chuckled quietly. - -“Tamea’s mother,” the sailor resumed, “had features as fine and regular -as any white woman. But then, why should she not? Her blood was pure, -because it was a chief’s blood. The dark skin, the flat nose and the -crinkly hair are souvenirs, in the Polynesian race, of their sojourn in -the Fijis before they resumed their age-old hegira that started in Asia -Minor. In the common people we find evidences of Papuan blood, and that -is negroid, Monsieur Doctor. But the pure-bred Polynesian is not a -nigger, as ignorant and stupid people might have you believe. They are a -lost fragment of the Caucasian race, and any ethnologist who has studied -them carefully and sympathetically knows this. Monsieur Doctor, they are -not of Malayan origin, but Cushite, and the Cushites were an Aryan -people, as doubtless you know.” - -“My knowledge of ethnology is very meager, Captain Larrieau,” said the -doctor. - -“Mine is not. Gaston of the Beard they call me down under the Line, but -I have a head to hold up my beard. How do you account for the fact that -the Polynesian priesthood in Hawaii was possessed of the story of the -Hebrew Genesis as early as the sixth century, and that, in many -respects, this version is more complete than the Jewish?” - -“I haven’t the slightest idea,” the doctor protested. He had the feeling -that to argue with Larrieau was to argue with an encyclopedia. - -“Well, they acquired the story while drifting eastward from the land of -their origin and establishing contact with the Israelites, although on -the other hand it may be an independent and original version of legends -common to the Semite and Aryan tribes of the remote past and handed down -to posterity quite as accurately as the Jewish version before the latter -became a part of the literature of that race.” - -The doctor glanced at his watch. “Captain, it would be most delightful -to linger and receive instruction in so interesting a subject, but we -have a Japanese liner to clear before noon, so I must be off.” - -“But,” persisted the sailor, “have I convinced you that, if this brutal -and iconoclastic world but knew it, my little Tamea is _all_ Caucasian, -not merely half?” - -“Captain, your daughter is the most dazzling, the most glorious woman I -have ever seen.” - -“Would you care to marry her, Monsieur Doctor?” The words shot out from -the man who had been condemned to a living death with calm but deadly -earnestness. “That is,” Larrieau continued, “provided you are not -already married.” - -“I am engaged to be married, Captain.” - -“You have seen Tamea. It will not be hard to forget the other woman. -Come, come, my boy! How does the proposition strike you?” - -“It doesn’t strike me at all. One does not accept such a proposition for -consideration quite so abruptly, my friend.” - -“Ah, why not? Why not, indeed? Because others do not? Blood of the -devil, what a horrible thing is tradition! If it were not a tradition -that a woman shall accept from her fiancé a diamond ring which the idiot -cannot, in all probability, afford to give her—well, women would not -accept them. If it were the custom, they would accept a blow or a brass -ring through the nose or a brand, with equal eagerness. Monsieur Doctor, -he who has not learned to accept both good and evil, the usual and the -unusual, abruptly and without mature consideration, has not learned to -live. Life has not given him of its richness and fulness. Why be afraid? -Why shrink from the silly comment of silly people who do not understand -when you have a woman with a glorious body, a glorious soul and a -glorious mind, to compensate you?” - -“I am not free to marry her——” - -Gaston of the Beard brushed aside this feeble excuse with a quotation -from Epictetus: “‘He only is free who does as he pleases.’” - -But the young doctor was not to be persuaded by such philosophical -considerations. - -“Has your fiancée a _dot_ of a quarter of a million dollars?” Larrieau -shot at him. - -“It is quite useless to discuss the matter, Captain.” - -The latter hung his head, disappointed. “You realize why I asked you, of -course,” he said presently. - -“I do, Captain. You must see her provided for. You were at some pains to -prove to me that her blood was the equal of mine——” - -“I spoke of her mother’s people. But I am not a common man. There is -blood and breeding back of me—yes, far back, but I can trace it.” - -“You pay me a tremendous compliment, Captain.” - -“You are young, you have education, intelligence. You are a doctor, a -man of broad human sympathy and understanding. It is too bad your spirit -is not free. Too bad!” - -“I will return for you this afternoon, about six o’clock, Captain. You -will not attempt to leave the Moorea, will you?” - -“I told you I was a thrifty man, but I did not tell you, also, that I am -generous.” - -“I am rebuked, Captain Larrieau. Forgive me.” - -“On one condition. Give my vessel pratique—now.” - -“I dare say we can risk that. But why do you ask it?” - -“So that young Mr. Pritchard, of Casson and Pritchard, my owners, may be -permitted to come aboard, with an attorney. I have some business details -to attend to before I accompany you to the quarantine shed at Angel -Island. There is the business of the Moorea, and the financial future of -my Tamea must be provided for.” - -“Do you wish me to return to the dock and telephone Mr. Pritchard?” - -“If you will be so kind. And ask Mr. Pritchard to bring flowers—a great -many beautiful flowers. We sons of Cush are childishly fond of flowers.” - -The health officer nodded and went over the side into the Customs tug -with a constricted feeling in his throat. Had he not gone then he would -have remained to weep, with Tamea, for old Gaston of the Beard! - - - - - CHAPTER II - - -In his office in the suite of Casson and Pritchard, on the top floor of -a building in the heart of San Francisco’s financial district, Daniel -Pritchard, the junior partner, sat with his back to his desk and his -feet on the sill of a window that gave a view, across the roofs of the -city, to the bay beyond. He was watching the ferryboats ply backward and -forward between the old gray town and Oakland; viewed from that height -and distance their foamy wakes held for him a subconscious fascination. -Indeed, whenever he desired to indulge a habit of day-dreaming, the view -from his window on a clear, warm day could quickly lull him into that -state of mind. This morning Dan Pritchard was day-dreaming. - -A buzzer sounding at his elbow aroused him. He reached for the -inter-office telephone and murmured “Yes?” in the low-pitched, kindly, -reassuring voice that is inseparable from men of studious habits and -placid dispositions. - -“The Moorea is passing in, Mr. Pritchard. The Merchants’ Exchange -lookout has just telephoned,” his secretary informed him. - -“Thank you.” He glanced at his desk clock. “She should clear quarantine -and the Customs before noon, and Captain Larrieau should report in by -one o’clock at the latest. You’ll recognize him immediately, Miss -Mather. A perfectly tremendous fellow with a huge black beard a foot -long. When he arrives show him in at once, please. Meanwhile I’m not in -to anybody else.” - -He resumed his day-dreaming, drawing long blissful drafts from a -pleasant smelling pipe, his mind in a state of absolute quiescence in so -far as business was concerned. He had that sort of control over himself; -a control that rested him mentally and armed his nerves against the -attrition that comes of the high mental pressure under which modern -American business men so frequently operate. - -At twelve-fifteen Miss Mather entered. - -“The Meiggs Wharf office of the Merchants’ Exchange telephoned that the -Moorea has been given pratique, but that Captain Larrieau is ill and the -health officer is going to have him removed to the quarantine station at -Angel Island,” she informed him. “Evidently his disease is not -contagious, because the health officer said it would be quite safe for -you to visit him. The Captain requests that you come aboard at your -earliest convenience and that you bring an attorney and some flowers.” - -Dan Pritchard’s eyebrows went up. “That request is suggestive of -approaching dissolution, Miss Mather.” - -“Scarcely, Mr. Pritchard. If that were the case would the Captain not -have requested the attendance of your doctor to confirm the health -officer’s diagnosis? And would he not have sent for a clergyman?” - -“Not that great pagan! His approach to death would be marked by an -active scientific curiosity in the matter up to the moment when his mind -should cease to function. Please telephone Mr. Henderson, of Page and -Henderson, our attorneys, and ascertain what hour will be convenient for -him to accompany me to the Moorea.” - -“I have already done so, Mr. Pritchard. Mr. Henderson is playing in a -golf tournament at Ingleside and will be finished about three o’clock. -He is in the club-house now and says he can meet you at Meiggs Wharf at -four o’clock, provided the matter cannot go over until tomorrow -morning.” - -“It cannot. Old Gaston of the Beard is an impatient man, and this is an -urgent call. Please telephone Mr. Henderson that I will meet him at -Meiggs Wharf at four o’clock. Then telephone Crowley’s boathouse to have -a launch waiting there for us at five o’clock. When you have done that, -Miss Mather, you might close up shop and enjoy your Saturday afternoon -freedom.” - -“Thank you, Mr. Pritchard. Miss Morrison is in Mr. Casson’s office. She -said she might look in on you a little later.” - -When his secretary had departed he resumed his reverie, to be roused -from it at twelve-thirty o’clock by the soft click of the latch as his -office door was gently opened. He turned and observed a girl who stood -in the general office, with her head and one shoulder thrust into Dan’s -office. - -“May I come in?” she queried. - -“Of course you may, Maisie. You’re as welcome as a gale in the doldrums. -The best seat in my office isn’t half worthy of you.” He rose and took -her hand as she advanced into the room. - -“Doing a little ground and lofty dreaming, I observe.” The girl—her -name was Maisie Morrison, and she was the niece of Casson, the senior -member of the firm—seated herself in a swivel desk chair and looked -brightly up at him as he stood before her, his somewhat long grave face -alight with approval and welcome. - -“It’s very nice of you to pay me this little visit, Maisie,” he -declared. “And I like that hat you’re wearing. Indeed, I don’t think I -have ever seen you looking more—er—lookable!” - -It was like him to ignore her implied query and voice the thought in his -mind. - -“Sit down, Abraham Lincoln, do, please,” she urged. - -He obeyed. “Why do you call me Abraham Lincoln?” - -“Oh, you’re so long and loose-jointed and raw-boned and lantern-jawed! -Your shoulders are bowed just a little, as if from bearing great -burdens, and when I caught a glimpse of your face, as I entered, it was -in repose and incredibly sad and wistful. Really, Dan, you’re a very -plain man and very dolorous until you smile, and then you’re easy to -look at. Your right eyebrow is about a quarter of an inch higher than -your left and that lends whimsicality to your smile, even when you are -feeling far from whimsical.” - -His chin sank low on his breast and he appeared to be pondering -something. “Perhaps,” he said aloud, but addressing himself -nevertheless, “it’s spring fever. But then I have it in the summer, -autumn and winter also. I want to go away. Where, I do not know.” - -“Perhaps you are suffering from what soul analysts call ‘the divine -unrest.’” - -“I’m suffering from the friction that comes to a square peg in a round -hole. That much I know. The round hole I refer to is the world of -business, and I’m the square peg. The situation is truly horrible, -Maisie, because the world believes I fit into that hole perfectly. But I -know I do not.” - -Her calm glance rested on him critically but not sympathetically. In -common with the majority of her sex she believed that men are prone to -conjure profound pity for themselves over trifles, and her alert mind, -which was naturally disposed toward practicalities, told her that Daniel -Pritchard had, doubtless, been up too late the night previous and had -eaten something indigestible. - -“This is an interesting and hitherto unsuspected condition, Dan. I have -always been told, and believed, that you are a particularly brilliant -business man.” - -“I am not,” he objected, with some vehemence. “But if I am, that is -because I work mighty hard to be efficient at a disgusting trade. I know -I am regarded as being far from a commercial dud, for I am a director in -a bank, a director in a tugboat company, and really the managing partner -of Casson and Pritchard. But I loathe it all. Consider, Maisie, the -monstrous depravity of dedicating all of one’s waking hours to the mere -making of money. Why, if any man of ordinary intelligence and prudence -will do that for a lifetime he just can’t help leaving a fortune for his -heirs to squabble over. Making money isn’t a difficult task. On the -other hand, painting a great picture is, and if one’s task isn’t -difficult and above the commonplace, how is one to enjoy it?” - -“I was right,” the girl declared triumphantly. “It is the divine unrest. -You are possessed of a creative instinct which is being stifled. It -requires elbow room.” - -He smiled an embarrassed little smile. “Perhaps,” he admitted. “I like -to work with my hands as well as with my head. I think I could have been -happy as a surgeon, slicing wens and warts and things out of people, and -I could have been happiest of all if I had nothing to do except paint -pictures. If I could afford it I would devote my life to an attempt to -paint a better picture of Mount Tamalpais yonder, with the late -afternoon sun upon it, than did Thad Walsh. And I do not think that is -possible.” - -“That picture yonder,” she said, pointing to an oil on the wall of his -office, “indicates that you have excellent judgment. What is the -subject, Dan?” - -“Blossom time in the Santa Clara Valley.” - -“It’s a beautiful thing and much too fine for a business office.” - -His face, on the instant, was alight with happiness. “Now, I’m glad to -have you say that, Maisie, because _I_ painted that picture.” - -“No!” - -“Yes.” - -“But you never told us——” - -“My dear Maisie, you must never breathe a word of this to anybody. If -the world of business had discovered ten years ago that I would rather -dabble in paint and oil than figure interest, it would not now be -regarding me as a capable, conservative business man. I would be that -crazy artist fellow, Pritchard.” - -She walked to a point where the best view of the picture was obtainable -and studied it thoughtfully for several minutes. - -“It’s very beautiful and the colors are quite natural, I think,” was her -comment. “What do you say it is worth, Dan?” - -“Oh, about a million dollars in satisfaction over a good job -accomplished, and fifty or a hundred dollars in the average art shop.” - -Maisie returned to her seat. “Well,” she declared with an emphasis and -note of finality in her tone that stamped her as a young woman of -initiative and decision, “if I were as rich as you, Dan Pritchard, I’d -continue to be a square peg in a round hole just long enough to send -that picture home and then walk out of this office forever. How old are -you?” - -“Thirty-four, in point of years, but at least a hundred viewed from any -other angle.” - -“Fiddlesticks! Why don’t you retire and live your life the way you want -to live it? I would if I were you. . . . Now, Dan, there you go again -with that sad Abraham Lincoln look!” - -“I am sad. I’ve just had a great disappointment. I told you I wanted to -go away but that I didn’t know where to go. Well, I did know where I -wanted to go—until this morning. I had planned to take one more cruise -with old Gaston of the Beard——” - -“With whom?” - -“Captain Gaston Larrieau, master of our South Seas trading schooner -Moorea. I had planned to knock around with him in strange places for the -next six months.” - -“I cannot visualize you making a pal of a sea captain, Dan.” - -“Nonsense, Maisie. Gaston is a satyr with a soul. Twelve years ago I -took a cruise with him and I’ve never had time for another. Gaston of -the Beard—my father dubbed him that thirty years ago and the name has -stuck to him ever since—is like no other man living. He’s about sixty -years old now, six feet six inches tall, and weighs about two hundred -and fifty pounds in condition. He’s a Breton sailor with the blood of -Vikings in him, and if I ever find the tailor who makes his clothes I’m -going to pension the man in order to remove a monster from the sartorial -world. When going ashore in a temperate climate Gaston affects very wide -trousers, a long black Prince Albert coat, a top silk hat, vintage of -1880, and a stiff white linen shirt with round detachable cuffs bearing -tremendous moss-agate cuff buttons. When he walks he waddles like a bear -and when I walk with him I run. - -“He is most positive in his likes and dislikes; he has read everything -and remembers it; he plays every card game anybody ever heard of and -plays them all well; he performs very well on the accordion, the flute -and the French horn; he knows music and the history of music. He speaks -four or five European languages and a dozen South Seas dialects. He is a -sinful man, but none of his sins are secret. He loathes swanks, frauds -and pretenders, and he bubbles with temperament. When he is enthusiastic -about anything or when he is angry, his voice rises to a roar; when he -is touched he weeps like a baby. He knows more English poetry than any -man living and is quite as much at home with the best of our modern -literature as he is with all of the ancient classics. He knows all about -ships and shipping since the days of the Phoenicians and the Hanseatic -League; there are as many facets to his character as to a well cut -diamond, and every facet sparkles. Good Lord, Maisie, the man’s -different, and I want a change.” - -“Well, then, as I said before, why not have it? You can afford it, Dan.” - -“That’s the rub. I cannot. And even if I could I’ve just received word -that Gaston of the Beard is ill with some sort of disease that requires -his removal to quarantine. It must be a very serious illness, because he -has sent for an attorney—to draw his will, doubtless. Henderson and I -are going aboard at four o’clock this afternoon.” - -“But why can’t you go for a cruise if and when your satyr recovers his -health?” - -“A man cannot drop a business just because he desires to. My going would -disorganize everything and distress a great many people. I’m the binder -that holds this organization together.” - -“Don’t take yourself too seriously, Dan. You weren’t born to daddy the -world, you know. You worry too much about other people and what will -happen to them when they can no longer lean against you for support. Why -not give them an opportunity to care for themselves for a change?” - -From the tip of her small feet to the cockade on her dainty little hat, -his calm, serious glance roved over her. “Well,” he replied soberly, -“how would you relish the prospect of caring for yourself—for a -change?” - -“I’m sure I do not know. I fear I’d be rather helpless—for a while.” - -“Do you think I ought to accord your uncle and aunt an opportunity to -care for themselves—for a change?” - -“Good gracious, no! Is there a possibility of that situation presenting -itself?” - -“An excellent possibility—if I elect to forget that I am a square peg -in a round hole and doomed to remain such.” - -“Oh, Dan, I’m so sorry!” - -“Sorry for whom?” - -“For—everybody.” - -The slight hesitation between her words caused him to smile faintly. -Vaguely he had hoped she would feel sorry for him exclusively. Her next -question convinced him that Maisie, in common with the rest of the -world, had a more alert interest in herself than in him. - -“Then there is danger, Dan? Something may happen to us?” - -“There is a possibility, Maisie. However, I must admit that my feeling -that such a possibility exists is based on nothing tangible. If I leave -the office for a long vacation, this firm will be in the position of a -pugilist who has incautiously left a wide opening for his opponent to -swat him to defeat.” - -“Whose fault is it?” said Maisie. - -“I do not mean to criticize my partner, Maisie, but if, while I should -be away, we climb out on the end of a limb and then somebody saws off -the limb, the responsibility for our fall will be entirely your Uncle -John Casson’s. The man is an optimist, devoid of mental balance.” - -“Have you and Uncle John been quarreling, Dan?” - -“No. What good does that do? If mischief is done, quarreling will -neither avert nor cure it. In a business dilemma your uncle always loses -his head, so I practise the gentle art of keeping mine!” He drew a chair -up to her and prepared for a confidential chat. “You must know, Maisie, -that following my entrance into this firm after my father’s death we -have had five narrow escapes from serious financial embarrassment, due -to Mr. Casson’s passion for taking long chances for large profits. And -if five beatings fail to cure a man my opinion is that he is incurable. -Holding that opinion as I do, I fear the result if I leave the office -for more than a month and expose your uncle to temptation.” - -“It is kind of you to say that, Dan. Perhaps you have been too gentle -with Uncle John. Perhaps if you had asserted yourself——” - -He held up a deprecating hand. “Forgive me, Maisie, if I assure you that -the only way to assert oneself with your avuncular relative is with some -sort of heavy blunt instrument.” - -His bluntness caused her to flush faintly, but she kept her temper. “I -believe your father and Uncle John quarreled frequently, Dan.” - -“Yes, that is true. But that was not because your uncle is a difficult -man to get along with in the ordinary day to day business. He is a -charming and agreeable old gentleman for whom I entertain a great deal -of respect and affection. My father was undiplomatic, aggressive and -extremely capable. For a quarter of a century he dominated the affairs -of Casson and Pritchard, and before he died he warned me if I should -take his place in the firm to do likewise.” He was silent, looking out -of the window at the ferryboats. “A horrible legacy,” he said. “I loathe -dominating people.” - -“Uncle John always resented your father’s domination.” - -“I have observed that most people resent that which is good for them. -Since my father’s death your uncle has evinced a disposition to run -hog-wild with power, as the senior member of the firm. The sublimated -old jackass!” - -“My uncle is nothing of the sort, Dan Pritchard.” - -He disregarded her protest, because he knew she had protested out of a -sense of loyalty to an uncle who had stood in the place of a father to -her since her fifth birthday. And John Casson, he knew, was both kind -and indulgent. But he also knew that Maisie knew her relative was -exactly what Dan Pritchard had called him. - -“The first time Mr. Casson disregarded my youth and lack of business -experience and jumped in over his head,” Dan continued, “I hauled him -out by the simple method of disregarding him and insuring all of our -ledger accounts, because one of them was very doubtful. Well, we -collected that insurance and all we were out was the premium. Your uncle -talked of suicide when he thought he had ruined both of us, but when he -discovered I’d saved the firm he accepted about seventy-five per cent of -the credit for my perspicacity. In those days, Maisie, it wasn’t -necessary for us to have a very heavy loss in order to be embarrassed or -ruined. All that saved us the last time was the war, which caught us -with a flock of schooners on long time charters at low freight rates. - -“Why, Maisie, I haven’t dared to leave him alone for years. He is no -longer a young man, and his naturally uncertain judgment hasn’t improved -with age. From August, nineteen fourteen, when the Great War began until -April, nineteen seventeen, when this country joined with the Allies, I -admit I gambled. I gambled everything I had and I induced your uncle to -gamble everything he had, and between us we committed Casson and -Pritchard to a point miles in advance of what would, ordinarily, have -been the danger point. - -“I am a conservative in business, but I knew then that we were gambling -on a rising market and that we would be safe while the war lasted. Even -during the year and a half I was in the navy and your uncle had a free -hand in the direction of our business, I did not worry. Those were the -days when all radicals made quick fortunes because they just could not -go wrong on charters and the prices of commodities. Three months after -the armistice had been signed I returned to civil life and since then I -have been very busy getting our firm out from under the avalanche of -deflation which must inevitably follow this war, even as it followed the -Civil War. It has not been an easy task, Maisie, for your uncle has -developed a spirit of arrogance and stubbornness difficult to combat.” - -“Yes,” Maisie agreed, “Uncle John has acquired a very good opinion of -himself as a business man.” - -Pritchard nodded. “Those days when I was in the service and he operated -alone have spoiled him. However, only this morning I succeeded in -gaining his consent—in writing—to the sale, at a nice profit, of the -last of our long-term charters at war rates. Now, if I can hold him in -line until the deflation process commences, I shall be well pleased with -myself.” - -“Is the money burning a hole in Uncle’s pocket?” - -“I fear it is. He is seventy years old; yet, instead of planning to -retire, he seethes with a desire to double his present fortune. He has -dreams of vast emprise. I wish he had gout instead!” - -“Casson and Pritchard is a partnership, Dan. Why do you not incorporate? -Then if the business fails, through any indiscretion of Uncle John, you -will not be responsible for more than your fifty per cent of the -company’s debts.” - -“Forty per cent, Maisie. I was admitted to partnership on that basis, -although my father was an equal partner. However, his death terminated -that partnership and I suppose Mr. Casson felt that with my youth and -inexperience forty per cent was generous.” - -The girl was silent, gazing abstractedly out of the window. Dan realized -that she was striving to scheme a way out for him, and he smiled in -anticipation of what her plan would be. He was not mistaken. - -“Dan,” she said presently, “I believe you are more or less of a thorn in -Uncle John’s side. Why do you not sell out to him, retire and paint -pictures? I feel certain he would be glad to buy you out.” - -He sighed. “There are several minor reasons and one major reason why -such a course would be repugnant to me.” - -“Name them.” - -“Mr. Casson, Mrs. Casson and all of our employees constitute the minor -reasons. You constitute the major one.” - -She flushed pleasurably and the lambent light of a great affection -leaped into her fine eyes. He continued: - -“I fear the old gentleman would make a mess of the business if my -guiding hand should be withdrawn, and at his age—consider the sheltered -life you have led, the ease and comfort and luxury and freedom from -financial worry! Maisie, it would be a sorry mess, indeed.” - -“So you have concluded to hang on, eh, Dan?” - -He nodded. “And while hanging on I hang back, like a balky mule on his -halter.” - -“‘Go not, like the quarry slave, scourged to his dungeon,’” she quoted -bitterly. “Nevertheless, I fail to see why a nice consideration of -my—of our—comfort should deter you from seeking your own happiness.” - -“Why, Maisie, you know very well I’m terribly fond of you.” - -“Indeed, Dan! This is the first official knowledge I have had of it, -although, of course, I have for years suspected that you and I were very -dear friends. However, Dan, my friendship is not one that demands great -sacrifices. I—I——” - -Tears blurred her eyes and her voice choked, but she recovered her poise -quickly. With averted face she said: “I’m sure, my dear Dan, I would -much prefer to see you painting your pictures than serving as a -sacrifice on the altar of your—of our—friendship.” - -“I think I might be able to glean a certain melancholy happiness from -the sacrifice,” he protested. - -“Dan Pritchard, you are exasperatingly dull today. I dislike being under -obligation to anybody.” - -He held up a deprecating hand. “You know, Maisie, I have always given -you my fullest confidence, as I would to a sister. And I do this in the -belief that you will understand perfectly. My dear girl, I am not -complaining because I have to stick by this business. I am merely -voicing my disappointment at the impossibility of taking the sort of -vacation I had planned. If I——” - -A knock sounded on the door, and a moment later John Casson entered. He -was a large, florid old gentleman, groomed to the acme of sartorial and -tonsorial perfection—a handsome old fellow with a hearty and expansive -manner, but a man, nevertheless, whom a keen student of human nature -would instantly deduce to be one who thought rather well of himself. - -“What? Dan, my boy, are you still on the job? Maisie, can’t you induce -him to drive to the country club with us? How about nine holes of golf?” - -Dan Pritchard shook his head. “Not today, sir, thank you.” - -“No? Sorry, my boy. Maisie, are you ready to run along?” - -“Yes, Uncle.” - -She rose hurriedly, went to the mirror in Dan’s wash cabinet and -powdered her nose. And while powdering it she studied critically the -reflection, in that mirror, of Dan Pritchard’s long, sad, wistful, -thoughtful face. It was in repose now, for Casson had walked to the -window and was looking out over the bay; and Maisie had ample -opportunity to watch Dan and wonder what was going on inside that bent -head. - -“Sweet old thing,” she soliloquized. “I love you so. I wonder if you’ll -ever know—if you’ll ever care—if it will ever occur to you, dear -dreamer, to diagnose that warm friendship and discover that it may be -love. For just now, stupid, you talked of sacrifice—for me. Oh, Dan, I -could beat you!” - -She crossed the room silently and stood beside his chair. As he started, -politely, to rise, she bent and placed her lips to his ear. “Art is a -jealous mistress. I am told. I hope, Dan, you’ll be as true to her as -you can be. I’m almost jealous of her.” - -He glanced meaningly at old Casson, who was beating time with his -fingers on the window-pane and striving to hum a popular fox-trot. “The -old bungler!” Dan whispered. “Come in and visit me the next time you -come to the office. And if you’ll invite me over to dinner some night -next week I shall accept. I want to continue our conversation. I——” - -He glanced swiftly at Casson, saw that the old gentleman was still -preoccupied with his pseudo-valuable thoughts and decided to risk -putting through a plan which had that instant popped into his head. He -took Maisie’s chin in thumb and forefinger, drew her swiftly toward him -and kissed her on the lips. Old Casson continued to beat his unmusical -tattoo on the window-pane, and Maisie, observing this, grimaced at his -broad back and—returned Dan’s kiss! For a breathless instant they stood -staring at each other—and then old Casson turned. - -“_Au revoir_, Danny dear,” said Maisie in a voice that rang with joy. - -“Good-by, Maisie. Good afternoon, Mr. Casson. I hope you’ll enjoy your -game.” - -“Thank you, boy. Ta-ta!” - -Dan bowed them out of his office and returned to his seat by the window. - -“Thunder!” he murmured presently. “Thunder, lightning and a downpour of -frogs and small fishes! Now, what imp put into my silly head that -impulse to kiss Maisie! I’m mighty fond of Maisie, but I’m not at all -certain that I’d care to marry her—she’s so practical and dominating -and lovable. Such a good pal. I wonder if I’d be happy married to -Maisie. . . . I’m a lunatic. When fellows of my mental type marry they -give hostages to fortune, and I haven’t lived yet. My life has been dull -and prosaic—nothing new under heaven—and then I had that impulse—yes, -that was new! That kiss from Maisie was an adventure. It thrilled me. I -wonder what put the idea into my fool head!” - -If he had not been fully as stupid as Maisie gave him credit for being, -he would have known that Maisie had put the idea into his head. Being -what he was, however, he went down to Meiggs Wharf at four o’clock to -meet Henderson, still obsessed with the belief that, all unknown to -himself hitherto, he was a singularly daring, devilish and original -character! - - - - - CHAPTER III - - -Following the departure of the Customs tug, Gaston of the Beard had sat -below in earnest converse with Tamea. The Triton had wept a little at -first, albeit his tears were not for himself but for Tamea; and after -her initial gust of despair and grief, the girl had remembered that -strength and not weakness was what her father expected of her. -Accordingly she had rallied to the task of comforting him. - -“And you knew I had contracted this disease, my daughter?” old Gaston -queried amazedly. - -“_Oui, mon père._ I saw the puffy places on your cheeks and knuckles -before we sailed from Riva, but I was not certain until I saw you one -day in swimming. There is a white patch on your right shoulder.” - -“But you have touched me, Tamea. You have caressed me——” - -“And shall again, dear one. The disease has but recently made its -appearance. There are no active lesions and I am not fearful, father -Larrieau.” - -“In this country, Tamea, when one is afflicted so, he is restrained of -his liberty. He is confined in a hospital called the pesthouse. There -are no men or women there with whom I should care to associate—and I am -old enough to die, anyhow. I would be free from this tainted body and -dwell with your mother in Paliuli”—the Polynesian equivalent of heaven. - -Tamea had no answer for this. All too thoroughly she divined the hidden -meaning in his speech, but because she was what she was—a glorious -pagan—the knowledge of the course which Gaston of the Beard -contemplated aroused in her neither apprehension nor grief. To Tamea the -mystery of death was no greater than the mystery of birth. Men and women -lived their appointed time and passed on to Paliuli, if they were worthy -like her father; or to Po, the world of darkness, if they were unworthy. -The departure for Paliuli was not one to cause a grief greater than that -experienced when one’s nearest and dearest departed for a neighboring -island, to be absent for an indefinite period. Of course she would weep, -for were not her people the most affectionate and tender-hearted race in -the world? - -And was not she, the last of her line, a descendant of kings and -expected to meet with complacency whatever of good or of evil life might -have in store for her? So she tugged the great bush of a beard -affectionately, from time to time, as her father talked, telling her of -his plans for her, his ambitions and desires, impressing upon her, above -all things, the necessity for absolute obedience to the man whom he -would name her guardian. - -With a full heart Tamea gave him the promise he desired, and when she -noticed how much the assurance comforted him her triumphant youth routed -for the nonce consideration of everything save the necessity for -cheering her father. So she went to her stateroom and returned with—an -accordion! It was a splendid instrument belonging to old Larrieau, and -Tamea had learned to play it very well by ear. She lay back in her chair -and commenced to play very, very softly a ballad that was old a decade -before Tamea was born, to wit, “Down Went McGinty!” - -But—it had a lilt to it, and presently her father was beating time and -humming the song. And Tamea, like her father, like so many of her -mother’s race, had a gift for clowning; now, as she played, she swayed -her body a trifle, raised her shoulders on the long drawn out “D-o-w-n” -and made funny faces; somehow the instrument seemed to wail and sob as -McGinty sank to the bottom of the sea. It was ridiculous, wholly -amusing, and old Gaston’s mellow bellow of laughter reached the ears of -Dan Pritchard while yet his launch was a cable’s length from the Moorea. -And then Tamea swung her instrument and broke into “La Marseillaise” -while her father sang it as only a Frenchman can. - -Dan Pritchard came overside and stuck his head down through the -ventilator over the deck-house. “Gaston,” he remarked, when the singer -ceased, “I came because I heard you were very ill.” - -“Ill, _mon petit_, ill? I am worse than ill. I am a dead man and I sing -at my own wake. Come down, rascal! By my beard, my old heart sings to -see you, Dan Pritchard. Come down, I tell you.” - -“Coming,” Dan answered laughingly—and came. - -“I could embrace you, my boy,” the old sailor informed him, “but during -Lent one must do something to mortify the flesh. Besides, I have had the -devilish luck to acquire leprosy.” - -Dan Pritchard made no sign that this news was disturbing, albeit he was -hearing it for the first time. - -“Well, if I may not shake your hand, give me a tug at your beard, -Gaston. Upon my word, there is no blight on those whiskers, old -shipmate.” And before Larrieau could prevent him he had grasped a -handful of whiskers and given the huge head a vigorous shaking. The -Triton, tremendously pleased, roared out an oath to hide a sob. - -“Dan, this is my well beloved daughter, Tamea. Tamea, my dear child, -this is Monsieur Dan Pritchard, the gentleman of whom we were speaking.” - -Tamea’s wondrous smoky eyes glowed with a welcoming light. “He who -twitches my father’s beard—when he _knows_,” she said very distinctly, -“shall never lack the love and respect of my father’s daughter. Monsieur -Dan Pritchard, my father would he might embrace you. Behold! I embrace -you—once for old Gaston of the Beard and once for myself.” And she set -her accordion on the cabin table, walked calmly to Dan Pritchard, drew -him to her heart and kissed him, in friendly fashion, on each cheek. - -Embarrassed, Dan took her hand in his and patted it. “You are a sweet -child,” he said simply. Then, turning to the old man: “Gaston, it’s -great to see you again. But explain yourself, wretch. How dare you foul -up the Moorea with your frightful indisposition?” - -“I was ever a disciple of the devil, Dan. It’s all through the islands. -The Chinese brought it. Dan, I am to be taken from Tamea—forever—and I -go as soon as my business has been arranged. Here is the book containing -my accounts as master to date. There is a balance of four thousand eight -hundred and nine dollars and eight cents due me. Give this to Tamea for -her personal needs. The vouchers are in this envelope. What is a fair -price for my one-quarter interest in the Moorea?” - -“She is an old vessel but sound, and she pays her way like a lady, -Gaston. She’s worth twenty-five thousand dollars. I will buy your -interest on that basis.” - -“Sold. Invest the money for Tamea. Here are drafts on the Bank of -California for one hundred and eighty thousand dollars. I have indorsed -them to you. Buy bonds with them for Tamea. And here”—he burrowed in -the base of his beard and brought forth a small tobacco bag he had -hidden in that hirsute forest—“are the crown jewels of my little Tamea. -They are the black pearls I have come by, from time to time. It was -known that I had some of great value and I have had to conceal them -carefully.” He laughed his bellowing laugh. “Pay the duty on them, Dan, -if you are more honest than I; then sell them and buy more bonds for -Tamea.” - -Dan Pritchard took an old envelope from his pocket, Larrieau dropped the -bag into it, and Dan sealed the envelope. - -“I desire that Tamea be educated and affianced to some decent fellow. -Tamea, hear your father. You are not to marry any man Monsieur Dan -Pritchard does not approve of.” - -Dan looked at her. “I promise,” she replied simply. - -“You are to be her guardian, Dan.” - -“Very well, Gaston,” said Dan instantly, “since you desire it. I shall -try to discharge the office in a commendable manner.” - -“That, my boy, is why the office is yours. For your trouble you shall -have my gratitude while I live and the gratitude of Tamea after I am -dead. Also, you shall be the executor of my estate, which will bring you -a nice fee, and in addition the largest and most beautiful pearl in that -lot is yours. It will make a magnificent setting for a ring for the -woman you may marry—if you have not married.” - -“I still revel in single blessedness, Gaston.” - -The sailor nodded approvingly. “Time enough to settle down after you are -forty,” he agreed. “You will select the pearl, however. It is yours now. -It is magnificent. Its equal is not to be found in the world, I do -believe. The heart of it has a warm glow, like my old heart when I think -of my friendship for your good father and for you—when I think of Tamea -and Tamea’s wonderful mother. Damnation! I have lived! I have known -love; my great carcass has quivered to the thrill of life as a schooner -quivers in the grip of a _willi-waw_!” He smiled wistfully at Dan. Then: -“Well, bring down your lawyer, Dan. I would make my will, leaving all I -possess to Tamea.” - -At a summons from Dan, Henderson came down into the cabin and was -introduced to Gaston of the Beard and his daughter. The last will and -testament of the Triton was as simple as the man who signed it, and Dan -and the lawyer appended their signatures as witnesses. - -“Now then, Gaston,” said Dan, “of what does your estate consist?” - -“These pearls, the money due me for disbursements made for account of -the Moorea and her owners, my interest in the Moorea and these drafts on -San Francisco. I have no real estate, and I owe nobody. Neither does -anybody owe me.” - -“Then,” said Dan smilingly, “why make a will, with its fees and taxes? -Why not make a gift of all you possess to Tamea now? Gifts are not -taxable, nor do they have to be probated—expensively.” - -Gaston of the Beard smiled and winked at the lawyer. “I knew I should -make no mistake in entrusting my little Tamea to this good friend,” he -declared. “Dan, the drafts are already indorsed to her. Take them. The -pearls you already have. Go ashore, my good friend, and return with a -bill of sale and a check for my interest in the Moorea, which I sell to -you, and your firm’s check for the amount due me on the final adjustment -of the ship’s accounts. I will then indorse both checks to Tamea and the -troublesome business of dying will have been simplified a -thousand-fold.” - -Dan returned to the office of Casson and Pritchard, found a printed bill -of sale form such as is used in shipping offices, filled it in, unlocked -the safe, drew Casson and Pritchard’s check and his own for the amount -due Larrieau and returned to the Moorea. Three scratches of a pen and -Dan’s word passed, and the estate of Gaston of the Beard had been -probated and distributed. - -Meanwhile Tamea had opened the boxes of flowers Dan had brought aboard -in compliance with her father’s request. Deftly she wove a _lei_ of -sweet peas, and when the business with Dan and the lawyer was done she -hung the _lei_ around old Gaston’s burly neck and garlanded his shaggy -head with roses. - -Presently, at his suggestion, Tamea called the steward, who brought -glasses and a dusty bottle of old French Malaga. When the glasses had -been filled and passed by Tamea, Gaston of the Beard raised his on high. - -“I drink to my loves, living and dead; to you, friend Dan Pritchard, and -to you, Monsieur l’Avocat! _Morituri te salutamus!_ I wish you good -luck, good health, happiness and a life just long enough not to become a -burden. May you live as joyously as I have lived and love life as I have -loved it; may you die as contented as I shall die, and without repining. -And may we embrace, like true friends and clean, in Paliuli!” - -They drank. - -“I have six quarts of that Malaga left. It is very old and of a rare -vintage. Monsieur l’Avocat, will you have money for your fee or would -you prefer the six live soldiers?. . . Ah, I thought so! The steward -will deliver them to you at your home, provided the prohibition agents -are not encountered first. Let us go on deck.” - -At the head of the companion Tamea kissed a rose and passed it to her -father. - -And that was their farewell. - -“The tide has turned. It is at the ebb. It will bear me far to the sea -that I have loved and upon whose bosom my days have been spent,” said -Gaston of the Beard casually. “Thank you, dear Dan, for all that you -have been to me in life, for all that you will be to me in death. I go, -finding it hurts to leave those I love. Farewell, Dan Pritchard, and you -also, my good Monsieur l’Avocat. . . Tamea, dear child, I depart, loving -you.” - -He pressed to his red lips the rose she had given him and then, with a -look of unutterable love for Tamea and a blithe kiss tossed to sea and -sky, he ran swiftly to the rail, stepped over it, and disappeared with a -very small splash for so huge a man. . . . - -“He has gone to join my mother in Paliuli,” said Tamea bravely. “He goes -to her, flower-laden, like a bridegroom. It is the custom in Riva with -those for whom life has lost its taste to have their loved ones adorn -them with flowers; then they walk out into the sea until they are seen -no more.” - -Presently, to Dan Pritchard, watching over the taffrail of the Moorea, -something floated up from the dark depths and drifted astern. It was the -emblem of love, the crown of roses and the _lei_ with which Tamea had -decked the great pagan e’er he left her for Paliuli. . . . Afterward Dan -remembered that Gaston had worn his marvelous going-ashore clothes and -that his tremendous trousers had bagged somewhat more than usual. So Dan -suspected he had taken the precaution to fill his pockets with pig lead -or iron bolts, and with the tide at the ebb he was drifting in those -dark depths out through the Golden Gate at the rate of four miles an -hour. . . . Well, they would not see _him_ again. - -The sun had sunk behind Telegraph Hill, and dusk was creeping over the -waters of the bay of St. Francis. Dan saw the flag at Fort Mason come -fluttering down, and across the waters came the sound of the garrison -band; from the church of St. Francis de Sales over in North Beach the -Angelus was ringing. - -“Well, Mr. Henderson,” said Dan presently, “the day’s work is done. The -launch is still alongside, so I suggest that you go ashore first and -send the launch back for me. Your family doubtless expects you home to -dinner. I shall remain here, I think, and go ashore later, when Tamea -has packed her belongings. I don’t suppose I ought to leave the child -here all night alone.” - -Mr. Henderson inclined his head, for he was profoundly affected; as the -launch coughed away in the gathering gloom to land him at Meiggs Wharf, -Dan descended to the cabin, whither Tamea had gone. - -As he entered the main cabin she came out of her stateroom. Her glorious -black hair had been loosely braided and hung over her left breast; in -the braid a scarlet sweet pea-blossom nestled. She still wore the cheap -white cotton skirt Dan had observed on her when he first came aboard and -she was still hatless, but buttoned tightly around her lithe young body -she now wore an old navy pea-jacket; under her arm she carried her -father’s very expensive accordion. - -“I am your Tamea now, Monsieur Dan Pritchard,” she announced -tremulously. “In this new land I know no one but you. I go with you -where you will. I will obey you always, for you are my father and my -mother.” - -The pathos of that simple speech stabbed him. Poor, lonely little alien! -Poor wanderer, in a white man’s world—a world which, Dan sensed, she -would never quite understand. How wondrously simple and sweet and -unspoiled she was! How transcendently lovely! He wished he might paint -her thus—he had a yearning to stretch forth his hand and touch her -hair. . . and presently he yielded to this desire. At his gentle, -paternal touch all the stark, suppressed agony in the heart of the Queen -of Riva rose in her throat and choked her. . . . - -Dan Pritchard took the outcast in his arms and soothed and petted her -while she emptied her full heart. And to him the experience did not seem -an unusual one, for as Maisie had often assured him he had been born to -bear the burdens of other people. He was one of those great-hearted men -who seem destined to daddy the world. . . . - -He wiped her tears away with his handkerchief and when the launch bumped -alongside again they said good-by to the Moorea. Kahanaha, the Kanaka, -wept, for he had sailed ten years with Gaston of the Beard. As they -disappeared into the darkness headed for Meiggs Wharf, his mellow -baritone voice followed them. - -He was singing “_Aloha!_” - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - -Throughout the ten minute journey from the Moorea to Meiggs Wharf, Tamea -sat beside Dan Pritchard in the stern sheets of the launch, holding his -hand tightly and, in silence, gazing ahead toward the lights of the -city. She seemed afraid to let go his hand, nor did she relinquish it -when they paused beside Dan’s limousine, waiting for them at the head of -the dock. Graves, his chauffeur, with the license of an old and favored -employee, was sound asleep inside the car when Dan opened the door and -prodded him; at sight of his employer standing hand in hand with Tamea, -Graves’s eyes fairly popped with excitement and interest. - -Tamea’s lashes still held a few recalcitrant tears and she looked very -childish and forlorn. Dan was carrying her accordion, and observing -this, Graves instantly concluded that his master had casually attached -himself to some wandering gipsy troubadour. He stared and pursed his -lips in a soundless whistle; his eyebrows went up perceptibly. - -Tamea’s moist eyes blazed. Rage superseded her grief. - -“Monsieur Dan Pritchard,” she demanded, “is this man your servant?” - -Dan nodded. - -“If we were in Riva I should have him beaten with my father’s razor belt -to teach him humility.” - -Dan reflected, sadly humorous, that it would be like Gaston of the Beard -to utilize a razor strop for any purpose save the one for which it had -been intended. But the girl’s complaint annoyed him. - -“Oh, don’t bother about Graves!” he urged. “He isn’t awake yet. He -thinks he’s seeing things at night.” - -“The man stares at me,” Tamea complained. “He is saying to himself: -‘What right has this girl with my master?’ I know. Yes, you bet.” - -“Graves,” said Dan wearily, “you are, I fear, permitting yourself a -liberty. Wake up, get out of here and in behind the wheel. And by the -way, Graves, hereafter you will be subject to the orders of Miss -Larrieau. In her own country Miss Larrieau is a queen and accustomed to -the most perfect service from everybody with whom she comes in contact. -I expect, therefore, that you will remember your manners. Driving for a -bachelor is very apt, I quite realize, to make any chauffeur careless, -but from now on, Graves, whenever Queen Tamea of Riva craves snappy -service, see that she gets it. I should regret very much the necessity -for flaying you with a razor strop.” - -“Lay forward, you,” Tamea commanded. “What business have you aft? Your -place is in the fo’castle, not the cabin.” - -Fortunately, Graves was blessed with a sufficient sense of humor to -respond humbly: “Beg pardon, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean to get fresh. -As the boss says, wakin’ me up sudden like that scared me sorter.” - -He carefully drew the curtains in the rear, on both sides and in front, -for, notwithstanding his cavalier manner in the presence of royalty, -Graves was more than passing fond of his employer and desired to spare -the latter the humiliation of being seen with a lady of uncertain -lineage and doubtful social standing riding in public with him in his -limousine. Graves was fully convinced that his master suddenly had gone -insane, and as a result it behooved him now, more than ever before, to -render faultless service. He wondered where the Queen was taking the -boss or where the boss was taking the Queen; already he was resolved to -drive them through streets rarely frequented by the people who dwelt in -Dan Pritchard’s world. - -Tamea’s haughty voice disturbed his benevolent thoughts. - -“Are you ashamed to ride with me, Dan Pritchard?” - -“Certainly not, my dear girl. Graves, how dare you draw those curtains -without permission? I’ll skin you alive for this!” - -“Beg pardon, sir,” mumbled the bewildered Graves. - -He raised the curtains, vacated the car immediately and stood at a stiff -salute while Dan handed Tamea into the luxurious interior. As he -followed her in he turned to Graves and growled, “Scoundrel! You shall -pay dearly for this.” A lightning wink took the sting out of his words, -however, and caused Graves to bow his head in simulated humiliation; -nevertheless the faithful fellow could not forbear one final effort. -Just before he closed the door upon them he switched off the dome light. -As he did so he saw Tamea’s hand slip into Dan Pritchard’s. - -“All I ask,” Graves murmured a moment later to the oil gage, “is that -Miss Morrison don’t get her lamps on them two. She don’t seem to have no -success gettin’ him to fall for her, but along comes this Portugee or -gipsy or somethin’ with an accordion on her arm, and the jig is up. -She’s dressed like a North Beach wop woman that’s married a fisherman, -but she tells him she’s a queen and wants to step out with him in his -automobile. Right away he falls for her. Bing! Bang! And they’re off in -a cloud of dust. Ain’t it the truth? When these quiet birds do step out -they go some!” - -There was a buzzing close to his left ear. - -“Sailing directions,” murmured Graves and inclined his ear toward the -annunciator. - -“Home, Graves!” said the voice of Daniel Pritchard. - -Graves quivered as if mortally stung, but out of the chaos of his -emotions the habit of years asserted itself. He nodded to indicate that -he had received his orders and understood them, and the car rolled away -down the Embarcadero. - -“Now,” murmured the hapless Graves, addressing the speedometer, “I -_know_ he’s crazy! Of course I can stand it, Sooey Wan won’t give a hoot -and Julia probably won’t let on she’s saw anything out of the way, but -Mrs. Pippy’ll give notice p. d. q. and quit quicker’n that. . . . Well, -I should worry and grow a lot of gray hairs.” - -He tooled the car carefully through rough cobbled streets which -ordinarily he would have avoided, and by a circuitous route reached Dan -Pritchard’s house in Pacific Avenue. “I’ll be shot if I’ll pull up in -front to unload them,” he resolved, and darted in the automobile -driveway, nor paused until the car was in the garage! As he reached for -the hand brake the annunciator buzzed again; again Graves inclined a -rebellious ear. - -“While appreciating tremendously the sentiments that actuate you, -Graves,” came Dan Pritchard’s calm voice, “the fact is that my garage is -scarcely a fitting place in which to unload a lady. Back out into the -street and so maneuver the car that we will be enabled to alight at the -curb in front of the house.” - -Again the habit of years conquered. Graves nodded. But to the button on -the motor horn he said dazedly: - -“He’s got the gall of a burglar! Here I go out of my way to help him and -he throws a monkey wrench into the machinery. Very well, boss! If you -can stand it I guess I can. I ain’t got no proud flesh!” - -With a sinking heart he obeyed and stood beside the car watching Dan -Pritchard steer Tamea up the steps; saw the incomprehensible man open -the street door with his latchkey; saw him propel Tamea gently through -the portal and follow; saw the door close on the incipient scandal! - -Then he looked carefully up and down the street and satisfied himself -that he had been the only witness to the amazing incident; whereupon he -put the car up and hastened into the servants’ dining room to ascertain -what, if any, impression had been created upon Mrs. Pippy, the -housekeeper, Julia, the maid, and Sooey Wan, the Chinese cook, who, with -Graves, constituted the Pritchard _ménage_. - -As Graves took his seat at the servants’ table and gazed inquisitively -through the door into the kitchen where Sooey Wan, squatted on his -heels, was glowering at something in the oven, Pritchard entered the -kitchen. Sooey Wan looked up at him but did not deem it necessary to -stand up. - -“Boss,” he demanded, “wha’ for you allee time come home late for -dinner?” - -“I don’t come home late for dinner all the time. Confound your Oriental -hide, Sooey Wan, are you never going to quit complaining?” - -The imperturbable Sooey Wan glanced at the alarm clock on an adjacent -shelf. - -“You klazy, boss,” he retorted. “You fi’, ten, fi’teen, twenty-fi’ -minutes late. Dinner all spoil, ever’thing go lotten boss don’ come home -on time.” - -“Go to thunder, you old raven! Quit your croaking,” Dan admonished the -heathen. - -Sooey Wan flew—or rather pretended to fly—into a rage. “Helluva note,” -he cried, and shied a butcher knife into the sink. “Twenty year I cook -for you papa, but he never late. Papa allee time in heap hurry. Son, -allee time go slow, takum easy. Well, you likee lotten dinner I ketchum, -boss. You likee A-numba-one dinner no can do—gee, Missa Dan, wha’s -mallah? You no look happy.” - -“I’m a bit distressed tonight, Sooey Wan.” - -Sooey Wan stood up and laid a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “You tell Sooey -Wan,” he urged, and in his faded old eyes, in his manner and in the -intonation of his voice, no longer shrill with pretended rage, there was -evidenced the tremendous affection which the old San Francisco Chinese -servant class always accords to a kindly and generous employer and -particularly to that employer’s children. - -“A good friend has died, Sooey Wan.” - -“That’s hell,” said Sooey Wan sympathetically. “Me know him, boss?” - -“Yes, he was a friend of yours, too, Sooey, Captain Larrieau, the -Frenchman with the big beard.” - -“Sure, I remember him. When he come Sooey Wan have sole for dinner. He -teachee me how makum sauce Margie Lee.” - -“Yes, poor Gaston was very fond of tenderloin of sole with sauce -Margery, as it is made in Marseilles. Well, he’s dead, Sooey Wan, and -tonight I brought his daughter home with me. I am her guardian.” - -“Allee same papa, eh?” - -Dan nodded, and Sooey Wan thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “All li’, Missa -Dan,” he replied. “I have A-numba-one dinner! Too bad captain die. Him -one really nice man—him likee Missa Dan velly much. Too bad!” - -He patted his employer on the shoulder in a manner that meant volumes. - -“The lady has to dress, Sooey Wan, so we cannot have dinner for half an -hour yet.” - -“You leavee dinner to Sooey Wan,” the old Chinaman assured him. “Missa -Dan, you likee cocktail now?” - -“Never mind, thank you.” - -“Sure, boss, you likee cocktail now. You no talkee Sooey Wan. Sooey Wan -fixee nice Gibson cocktail. My boy ketchum cold heart, Sooey Wan makum -heart warm again. . . . Shut up, shut up! Boss, you allee time talkee -too damn much.” - -Realizing the uselessness of protest, Dan stood by while Sooey Wan -manufactured the heart-warmer. And when the drink was ready the old -Chinaman produced two glasses and filled one for himself. “I dlink good -luck to spirit Captain Larrieau. Hoping devil no catchum,” he said. -“Tonight me go joss-house and burn devil paper.” - -He set down his empty glass and with paternal gentleness thrust Dan out -of the kitchen; as the door swung to behind the latter, Sooey Wan began -audibly to discharge a cargo of oaths, both Chinese and English. This -appeared to relieve his feelings considerably, for presently he -commenced to sing softly, which emboldened Graves to address him. - -“Say, Sooey,” he suggested, “I wouldn’t mind bein’ wrapped around one of -those cocktails of the boss’s myself.” - -Sooey Wan looked at him—once. Once was sufficient. Ah, these new -servants—these fresh American boys! How little did they know their -place! What a febrile conception of their duty toward the author of the -payroll was theirs! - -“Bum!” hissed Sooey Wan. “Big Amelican bum!” Seizing the poker he -commenced stirring the fire vigorously, from time to time favoring -Graves with a tigerish glance which said all too plainly, “I stir the -fire with this, but if I hear any more of your impudence I’ll knock your -brains out with it.” - -Graves subsided. He knew who was the head of that house! - - - - - CHAPTER V - - -From the moment that he and Tamea left the schooner Dan’s thoughts had -been occupied with the weightiest problem that had ever been presented -to him for solution. What was he to do with Tamea and where was he to -take her? For a while he was comforted by the thought that he could not -possibly do better than bring her to Maisie Morrison, explain the -circumstances and ask Maisie to take the orphan in for the night, lend -her some clothing and tell her a few things about life in a civilized -community which it was apparent she should know at the earliest -opportunity. Then he reflected that Maisie might not be at all obliged -to him for thrusting such a task upon her; clearly it was none of her -business what happened to this half-caste Polynesian girl. Always -practical, Maisie would, doubtless, suggest that the girl be taken to a -hotel; even if she did not suggest it, that pompous old ass, Casson, -would. - -Dan remembered that Gaston of the Beard had never liked Casson and that -Casson had never liked Gaston of the Beard. Nothing save Gaston’s record -for efficiency and shrewd trading, plus Dan’s influence, had conduced to -keep the pagan in the employ of Casson and Pritchard. - -So Dan resigned that plan, but not before he had broached it to Tamea. - -“Who is the woman, Maisie?” Tamea queried without interest. - -Dan informed her. - -“I do not like her,” Tamea decided. “I will not go to the home of a -woman I do not know.” - -It was then that Dan considered the plan of taking the girl to a hotel. -But the prospect horrified him. He could not abandon her to her own -resources in a metropolitan hotel. He had no definite idea how far Riva -had progressed in civilization, but he assumed it was still, to all -intents and purposes, in the Neolithic Age, and consequently Tamea would -find plumbing, hot and cold water, electric lights, telephones, strange -maids and perky little bellhops much too much to assimilate alone on -this, her first night in her new environment. Moreover, Dan shrank from -the task of entering the Palace or the St. Francis hotels with Tamea, -registering her as Queen Tamea of Riva, and having the room clerk, for -the sake of publicity for the hotel, give the ever watchful hotel -reporters a tip on an interesting story of a foreign potentate, clothed -in white cotton and a pea-jacket, who had just arrived tearful and -bareheaded, with no baggage other than a huge accordion, and accompanied -by a wealthy shipping man. - -Decidedly he could not risk that. He must avoid publicity. Remained, -therefore, no alternative save taking her to his own home, in San -Francisco’s most exclusive residence section on Pacific Heights. - -Thank God, he had in his employ as housekeeper a prim and proper person, -a Mrs. Pippy. In her fiftieth year Mrs. Pippy’s husband, a bank cashier, -had absconded to parts unknown with a lady somewhat younger and -handsomer than Mrs. Pippy, who thereupon had been forced to earn her -living in almost the only way possible for a woman of her advanced age. -Knowing her to be a woman of taste, culture and refinement, Maisie had -induced Dan to engage her at his housekeeper, which he was very loath to -do, owing to serious objection on the part of Sooey Wan. Maisie had run -this oriental tyrant quickly to earth, however. Sooey Wan could cook a -dinner, but he couldn’t order one and he couldn’t see that it was served -properly; wherefore, since Dan liked to entertain his friends at dinner -very frequently, Mrs. Pippy could be depended upon to manage his -household affairs efficiently and delightfully. - -At Maisie’s suggestion, Mrs. Pippy had engaged as waitress and housemaid -an exile from Erin who answered to the name of Julia. Julia was an -amiable creature who daily entrusted Sooey Wan with the sum of -twenty-five cents to be bet for her in a Chinese lottery in Washington -Alley. Dan remembered now that Julia was about the same size as Tamea, -and only the Sunday afternoon previous he had seen Julia leaving the -house clad in a tailored suit that gave her what Graves termed a -“snappy” look. - -“I’ll buy that suit from Julia and pay her a fine price for it,” Dan -soliloquized. “Tamea has just naturally got to have something decent to -wear downtown when the horrible job of shopping begins. And I wouldn’t -be at all surprised if Julia could sell me a pair of shoes, some -stockings and a shirtwaist, and do Tamea’s hair up in an orderly manner. -Mrs. Pippy will take her in hand and do the needful. If she doesn’t,” he -added fiercely, “I’ll dismiss her immediately.” - -Fortunately, Tamea’s mournful thoughts claimed her attention; she was -content to sit perfectly quiet and hold Dan’s hand, as if from the -contact she drew strength to face the unknown. When Dan broached the -subject of turning her over to Maisie she had been distinctly alarmed, -and when he sang Maisie’s praises so generously, she decided that he was -very fond of Maisie, and, for a reason which she did not consider -necessary to analyze, Tamea made up her mind instantly that she was not -going to like Maisie; which decision, in view of the fact that she had -never seen Maisie, must be regarded as only another example of the -extraordinary instinct or intuition of the feminine sex, wheresoever -situated and with regard to age, color, creed, or previous condition of -servitude. - -She was relieved when Dan abandoned the subject without comment or -urging; she had a hazy impression that he had been rather nice about it -and that her father had selected, to take his place, a singularly kindly -and comfortable person, indeed. She gave his hand a little squeeze, -which he didn’t even notice. - -Mrs. Pippy was just ascending the stairs from the entrance hall when Dan -let Tamea and himself into the house. The good lady paused in her ascent -with much the same abruptness which, we imagine, characterized the -termination of the flight of Lot’s wife when that lady was metamorphosed -into a pillar of salt. - -“Good heavens, Mr. Pritchard!” she exclaimed—and assumed a regal -attitude. - -“Good evening, Mrs. Pippy,” Dan saluted her cheerfully. “May I have your -attendance here for a moment, dear Mrs. Pippy?. . . Thank you so much. -Mrs. Pippy, this young lady is Miss Tamea Larrieau, and in her own land, -which is the island of Riva, in eastern Polynesia, she is quite the most -important person of her sex. In fact, Miss Tamea is the hereditary ruler -of the Rivas, or Rivets, or whatever one might term them. Tamea, this -lady is Mrs. Pippy, who is kind enough to manage my household, Mrs. -Pippy is a kind lady who will take good care of you, won’t you, Mrs. -Pippy?” - -Mrs. Pippy favored Tamea with a wintry nod and an equally wintry and -fleeting smile. She still stood on the stairs in her regal attitude; -apparently, in the presence of royalty, she was not impressed. - -Immediately Tamea gave her guardian additional evidence of an alert -mentality and extreme sensitiveness to the slightest atmosphere of -disapproval or hostility. She favored Mrs. Pippy with a long, cool, -impersonal glance, before she turned to Dan and said, naïvely: - -“She looks like Columbia, the gem of the ocean!” - -Decidedly, Dan Pritchard was not in humorous mood; nevertheless he -burbled and churned inwardly for several seconds before conquering an -impulse to burst into maniac laughter. He realized in time, fortunately, -that he could not possibly afford to laugh at his housekeeper. The good -soul was arrayed in a black crêpe de Chine gown, trimmed with lace—a -voluminous and extremely frippery garment; standing there, her cold -countenance handsome with a classic handsomeness beneath a pile of -silvery hair, she did indeed offer a splendid comparison with the -popular conception of Columbia. - -“Pardon me, Mr. Pritchard,” said Mrs. Pippy frigidly, “did I understand -you to say that Miss Larrieau comes from eastern Polynesia?” - -“Yes, indeed, Mrs. Pippy. She arrived from there today.” - -“For a moment I was inclined to think you had been misinformed and that -the young lady hails from the region known as ‘south of Market Street.’” - -“That one went over Tamea’s head,” Dan thought. “It was meant for me. -Well, it landed.” - -He smiled upon his housekeeper. - -“We will, if you please, Mrs. Pippy, call that round a draw. Miss -Larrieau is my ward. I acquired her about two hours ago and it is my -firm intention to do as well by her as possible. To that end I crave -your indulgence and hearty coöperation, Mrs. Pippy.” - -The housekeeper thawed perceptibly. “I shall be most happy to aid you in -making Miss Larrieau as comfortable and happy as possible.” - -“That’s perfectly splendid of you, Mrs. Pippy. Tamea, my dear, will you -step into the living room and play your accordion, or do something to -amuse yourself, while Mrs. Pippy and I hold a conference?” - -“You will not go away—far?” Tamea pleaded. - -“This is my house, Tamea, and it is your home for the present at least. -You are very welcome. Whenever your dear father came to San Francisco it -was his pleasure to visit me here, to dine with me and sit up half the -night talking with me. He always felt that this was his San Francisco -home, and you must feel likewise.” - -“Very well,” Tamea replied and entered the room. A wood fire was -crackling in the large fireplace, and Tamea sat down on her heels before -this fire and held her hands out to the cheerful flames. - -“This is a cold country,” she complained. “Cold winds and cold hearts.” - -Dan rejoined Mrs. Pippy and drew her into the dining room, where, in -brief sentences, he explained Tamea and his hopes and desires concerning -her. Mrs. Pippy gave a respectful ear to his recital; that was all. - -“I have a feeling, Mr. Pritchard, that you are going to have your hands -full with that young woman,” she declared. “I have always heard that -half-castes of any kind partake of the worst characteristics of both -parents. Eurasians are—well, scarcely desirable.” - -“Tamea is not a Eurasian. She is a pure-bred Caucasian, but in many -respects she is a child of nature. It is evident that her father saw to -it that she received all the educational advantages possible in her -little world, but I must impress upon you, Mrs. Pippy, that when dealing -with her you are not dealing with a modern girl. Her outlook on life, -her thoughts, impulses—and, I dare say, her moral viewpoint—antedate -the Christian era.” - -“Is she a—Christian, Mr. Pritchard?” - -“I think not. Her father was not. Neither was he an atheist. He was a -pagan. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Tamea’s religious beliefs, if -she has any, are idolatrous.” - -“Horrible!” - -Dan smiled. “I dare say Tamea is quite as happy as any Christian, Mrs. -Pippy.” - -“I do hope she’s clean, Mr. Pritchard.” - -“Well, her people usually are. However, you might explain to her the -mysteries of a modern bathtub. Do you think you and Julia can manage to -dress her for dinner—after a fashion?” - -Mrs. Pippy expressed the hope that the experiment might prove successful -and suggested that Julia be interviewed. - -Julia, a romantic, rosy-cheeked, imaginative but extremely plain woman -in the early thirties, was overwhelmed with importance to discover that -the master of the house had elected to lean upon her, to seek her advice -and coöperation when confronted by this most unusual dilemma. - -“An’ is it lady-in-waitin’ to a queen you’d ask me to be, Misther -Pritchard? Faith, then, an’ I’ll defy you to find a body more willin’. -Of course we’ll take care of her. Why shouldn’t we? Sure, ’tis sympathy -an’ undhershtandin’ she’ll need this night. Where’s the poor lamb?” - -For some reason not quite apparent to him, Dan had a feeling that Julia -Hagerty was, beyond a doubt, the most wonderful woman he had ever met. -Mrs. Pippy, he thought, had been overeducated and civilized and -sheltered to the point where all the humanity had been squeezed out of -her, while Julia, child of the soil, had, in the daily battle for bread -and butter, been humanized to the point where she and Tamea could meet -on something akin to common ground. - -At that moment Tamea, having warmed her fingers and stretched herself -flat on her back on the thick oriental rug, took up her accordion and -commenced improvising a melody that had in it that wailing quality, that -funereal suggestion inseparable from the music of a dying race, or an -oppressed. - -As she played Tamea sang, in a sweet little voice that scarcely filled -the room, a semi-chant that Dan Pritchard suspected was also an -improvisation, with words and music dedicated to the one who was still -drifting outward with the tide. - -Mrs. Pippy’s ultra-superior countenance commenced to soften and Julia -stood listening open-mouthed. - -“The poor darlin’,” murmured Julia. - -Suddenly Tamea ceased her improvisation, shifted a few octaves and -played “One Sweetly Solemn Thought.” In the twilight of the big living -room it seemed that an organ was softly playing. - -“She’s a Christian!” Mrs. Pippy whispered dramatically. - -“I hope not,” Dan replied. “I think I prefer her pagan innocence.” - -“But how strange that, with her father not yet cold in his—ah—watery -grave, she should elect to sing and play whatever it is she plays.” - -“Well, if one be tied to tradition and humbug and false standards and -cowardice, I suppose Tamea’s conduct _is_ strange,” Dan admitted. “I -think, however, that I can understand it. Certainly I appreciate it. -What if the girl was passionately devoted to her father? What if he did -commit suicide in her presence two hours ago? They had talked it over -beforehand, sanely, and both had agreed that it was the best and -simplest way out. And Gaston wasn’t messy about it. To me his passing -was as magnificent as that of the doomed Viking of old who put out to -sea in his burning galley. Smiling, composed, he stepped blithely over -the ship’s rail. - -“Just one step from life to death, you say? No, not to death, but to -another life! We Christians who believe in the resurrection of the dead -and the communion of saints are horribly afraid of death, but the pagan -has nothing to regret and journeys over the Styx in a spirit of -adventure and altruism. Tamea will, from time to time, weep because she -will miss her father’s comradeship and affection, but never because her -father has parted with life, for to her and her people life without joy -is worse than death. - -“They make no mystery of death; it is not an occasion or a tremendous -event save when a monarch passes. No mourning clothes or mourning period -to bolster up a pretense of an affection for the deceased stronger than -that which actually existed; no tolling of bells, no sonorous ritual. -That is the hokum of our civilization. But tradition, mummery and -religion are unknown to Tamea. She is simple, sane and philosophical, -and whatever you do, Mrs. Pippy, and you, Julia, don’t pretend that -anything unusual has happened. Do not proffer her sympathy. What she -craves is affection and understanding.” - -“You are already late to dinner, Mr. Pritchard. Sooey Wan is on the -warpath,” Mrs. Pippy suggested. She was not in sympathy with Mr. -Pritchard’s views and desired to change the subject. - -“Some day I’m going to do something to Sooey Wan. I grow weary of his -tyranny. Julia, come with me and I’ll introduce you to Her Majesty.” - -Tamea turned her head as they entered the room but did not trouble to -rise. Dan noticed that her eyes were bright with unshed tears, that her -lips quivered pitifully, that the brave little smile of welcome she -summoned for him was very wistful. - -“Tamea, this is Julia, who will take good care of you.” - -The Queen of Riva sat up and looked Julia over. Julia, fully alive to -the tremendous drama of the situation, had wreathed her plain features -in a smile that was almost a friendly leer; her Irish blue eyes -glittered with curiosity and amiability. - -“Hello, Tammy, darlin’,” she crooned. “Come here to me, you poor gir’rl, -till I take care o’ you. Glory be to the Heavenly Father, did you ever -see the like o’ that shmile? An’ thim eyes, Mrs. Pippy! An’ her hair -that long she’s sittin’ on it! Wirra, will you look at her complexion! -Like ripe shtrawberries smothered in cream.” - -Julia held out her arms. Tamea stared at her for several seconds, then -carefully laid aside her accordion and stood up. - -“She is a plain woman, but her heart is one of gold,” she said to Dan, -and went to Julia and was gathered into her arms. - -Poor Julia! Like Tamea, she too was an exile, far from a land she loved -and the loving of which, with her kind, amounts to a religious duty. -Julia was a servant, a plain, uneducated woman, but at birth God had -given her the treasure for which Solomon, in his mature years, had -prayed. She had an understanding heart, and to it now she pressed the -lonely Tamea, the while she stroked the girl’s wondrous, rippling, -jet-black tresses. - -“Poor darlin’,” she crooned. “You poor orphant, you.” - -“I will kiss you,” Tamea declared, and did it. She looked over her -shoulder at Dan Pritchard. “And you will give me this woman all for -myself?” she queried. - -“Yes, my dear,” he answered brazenly. “Julia belongs to you. Did she not -give herself to you? Why should I withhold my permission? Julia is your -slave.” - -She beamed her gratitude. “Give me, please, one of my father’s black -pearls—any one you do not want for yourself.” - -Gravely Dan took from his pocket the envelope Gaston of the Beard had -entrusted to him for Tamea, and spread the pearls on his open palm. -Tamea selected one that was worth ten thousand dollars if it was worth a -penny, and handed it to Julia. - -“Observe, Julia,” she said, “the warm bright glow in the heart of this -pearl. It is like the warm bright glow in the heart of you, my Julia. -Take it. Thus I reward those who love me—thus and thus,” and she kissed -Julia’s russet cheeks. - -Julia eyed her employer with amazement and wonder. “Glory be, Misther -Pritchard,” she gasped, “what’ll I do with it?” - -“Put it away in a safe deposit box, Julia,” he suggested. “It is worth a -small fortune. And remember what I told you. Nothing that may happen -must be unusual. Understand. Now take Tamea upstairs and dress her while -I call on Sooey Wan and set dinner back half an hour.” - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - -With a shower bath, a change of linen and the donning of dinner clothes, -Dan always felt a freshening of the spirit—rather as if the grime of -commercialism had been washed away. Whether he dined alone or with -guests he always dressed for dinner. - -Sooey Wan, who added to his duties as cook those of general -superintendent of Dan’s establishment, in defiance of the authority -vested in Mrs. Pippy, and who was, on occasion, valet, counselor and -friend, came up to his room with another cocktail just as Dan finished -dressing. Also, he brought a cocktail for himself, and, while waiting -for Dan to adjust his tie, the old Chinaman helped himself to one of -Dan’s gold-tipped cigarettes. - -Ordinarily, Sooey Wan permitted himself few liberties with his boss, but -upon occasions when his acute intuition told him that the boss was low -in spirits, Sooey Wan always forgot that Dan was his boss. Then Dan -became merely Sooey Wan’s boy, the adored male baby of the first white -man for whom Sooey Wan had ever worked. The years fell away and Dan was -just a ten-year-old, and he and Sooey Wan were making red dragon kites -in the kitchen and planning to fly them the following Saturday from Twin -Peaks. - -Indeed, Pritchard, senior, had left to Sooey Wan a large share in the -upbringing and character-building of his only son, for Dan’s mother had -died that Dan might live. It had been Sooey Wan who had imparted to Dan -a respect for the inflexible code of the Chinese that a man shall honor -his father and his mother and accord due reverence to the bones of his -ancestors and the land that gave him birth. It had been Sooey Wan who, -inveterate gambler himself, nevertheless taught Dan that when a man -loses he shall take his losses smilingly and never neglect to pay his -debts. Into Dan’s small head he had instilled as much Chinese philosophy -and as much Chinese honor as he would have instilled into a son of his -own had his strange gods not denied him this supreme privilege. - -Dan knew the old Chinaman for the treasure he was and nothing that Sooey -Wan might do could possibly have offended him. In thirty-five years of -perfect service to the Pritchards, father and son, Sooey Wan had bought -and paid for the few liberties he took—an occasional cigarette in their -presence and about six cocktails per annum. - -What Sooey Wan realized his boss needed tonight was human society. Sooey -Wan felt fully equal to the task of supplying that rare commodity, and -he was in Dan’s room now for that purpose. - -“My boy feelee little better, eh?” he suggested. - -“Considerably. Life isn’t half bad, Sooey Wan. The world isn’t filled -entirely with muckers.” - -“Oh, velly nice world!” Sooey Wan agreed. “Today I ketchum ten spot in -China lottery. I play fi’ dollar. Tonight Sooey Wan feel pretty damn -good, too.” - -A silence while Dan sat down, lighted a cigarette and sipped his -cocktail. Then: - -“Julia velly happy, boss. Captain’s girl give Julia velly nice plesent. -She come show me. Missie Pip velly sorry no can understand at first. No -ketchum pearl.” And Sooey Wan chuckled like a malevolent old gnome, -while Dan laughed with him. - -“Missie Pip too high-tone’,” Sooey Wan decided. “Yeh, too muchee. No pay -muchee Missie Pip for be high-tone’. Sooey Wan don’t give a damn. Sooey -Wan ketchum pearl, all li’. No ketchum pearl, all li’. Ketchum ten spot -China lottery, velly good. Ketchum ten spot for Julia, too, but Julia no -playum heavy. Twenty-fi’ cen’s, two bittee limit.” - -The Chinese lottery was then discussed, with Sooey Wan adverting with -delightful regularity to the fact that Mrs. Pippy was in a mood to kick -herself up hill and down dale because of her lamentable failure to -recognize a queen. The gift of all the pearls ever collected in the -South Seas could not have afforded the old Chinese schemer one-half the -delight this knowledge afforded him, and Dan quickly realized that for -the pleasure of this social visit from Sooey Wan he was indebted quite -as much to Mrs. Pippy’s misfortune as he was to Sooey Wan’s unfaltering -affection. He _had_ to share this joyous news with somebody who could -appreciate it! - -Presently Sooey Wan grew serious. “I lookee thlough dining room door -when Captain’s girl go upstair,” he confided. “Velly pitty girl. Velly -damn nice, Missa Dan, you mally lady queen?” - -“No, confound you, no. What put that idea into your fool head?” - -“Captain’s girl velly nice. Bimeby, boss, you have fi’, six, seven, -maybe eight son! Sure, you have good luck. She give you many son.” - -“I don’t want many sons. Just now I do not want any.” - -“You klazy. What you think Sooey Wan stick around for, anyhow. You no -ketchum baby pretty quick wha’ for I workee for you? Hey? Me ketchum -plenty money. Me go China.” - -“You’re an interfering, scheming old duffer, Sooey. Get back to your -kitchen.” - -Sooey Wan departed in huge disgust, slamming the door. A moment later he -opened it a couple of inches and looked in. “Lady queen leady for -dinner. Look velly nice. Missa Dan, you listen Sooey Wan. Captain’s girl -velly nice.” - -Dan threw a book at him and descended to dinner. - -At the foot of the stairs he met Tamea, attended by Mrs. Pippy and -Julia. Mrs. Pippy was a being reincarnated. She beamed, she seemed -fairly to drip with the milk of human kindness. The simple Julia stood, -grinning like a gargoyle, head on one side and hands clasped under her -chin, presenting a picture of pride personified. - -“Look at her now, Misther Pritchard, an’ the day you got her,” said -Julia. - -Tamea looked up at him pridefully. She was wearing a white dress, white -silk stockings and white buckskin shoes. Her hair, caught at her nape -with a scarlet ribbon, hung in a dusky cascade down her fine straight -back. - -The combination was startling, vivid, amazingly artistic, and Dan stood -lost in admiration. If Tamea could only have managed a smile that -predicated happiness rather than sadness, Dan told himself she would -have been ravishingly beautiful. - -“You’re tremendous! Perfectly tremendous!” he assured Tamea. “But that -stunning dress——” - -“I took the liberty of telephoning Miss Morrison,” Mrs. Pippy gurgled. -“I sent Graves over after some things of hers I thought might fit Miss -Larrieau.” - -“I am extremely grateful to you, Mrs. Pippy.” In the back of his head -the words of Sooey Wan were ringing: “Missie Pip velly sorry no can -understand at first. No ketchum pearl.” Whatever the reason behind her -present cordiality, she was making a strenuous effort to overcome the -unfortunate impression she had made upon Tamea a half-hour previous. - -Sooey Wan appeared in the dining room entrance and beamed cordially upon -the guest. “What Sooey Wan tell you, boss? Velly nice, eh? You bet. -Dinner leady.” - -Dan silenced the wretch with a furious glance, took Tamea by the arm and -steered her into the dining room. Sooey Wan retreated, but paused at the -entrance to the butler’s pantry and grinned his approval before -disappearing into the kitchen to pass out two plates of soup for Julia -to serve. Mrs. Pippy disappeared. - -Having tucked Tamea’s chair in under her, Dan took his place opposite. -Tamea looked around the dining room with frank approval. She appeared a -trifle subdued by the somber richness of it, the vague shadows cast by -the warm pale pink glow of the four candles in four old silver -candlesticks, the dark bowl, flower-laden, in the center of the table. - -Dan was aware that she was watching him; not until he had selected his -soup spoon from among—to Tamea—a bewildering array of silverware, did -she imitate his action. Her host instantly realized that the niceties of -hospitality would have to be dispensed with for the sake of Tamea’s -education; consequently, when Julia entered with some toasted crackers -and approached Tamea with the intention of serving her first, Dan caught -Julia’s eye and directed her to his side. - -“You will serve me first,” he whispered and helped himself. Tamea did -likewise. - -“Now, her French father taught her to break her crackers into her soup -and partake of the soup without regard to the resultant melody. I will -see if she is a victim of habit,” he decided. - -He waited. Tamea set the crackers on her butter plate, as she had -observed him do; like him, she made no movement to eat them. Dan took up -his butter knife and buttered a cracker. Tamea instantly searched out -her butter knife—Dan would have been willing to wager considerable she -had never seen one before—and buttered her cracker. Bite for bite and -sip for sip she followed his lead, her smoky glance seldom straying from -him. Observing that she was not using her napkin, Dan flirted his, on -pretense of straightening it out, and respread it. Immediately Tamea -unfolded her napkin and spread it. - -“She’ll do,” Dan soliloquized. “Doesn’t know a thing, but has the -God-given grace to know she doesn’t know and is smart enough not to try -to four-flush. That girl has brains to spare. She speaks when she is -spoken to, but tonight silence is not good for her. She must not think -too much about her father.” Aloud he said: “Tamea, what was your life in -Riva like?” - -“Very simple, Dan Pritchard. While our family ruled Riva we were rulers -with little ruling to do. Ten years ago my mother’s father died. After -that my mother and I spent many months each year with my father aboard -the Moorea. My mother did not speak good French, but my father would -speak to me in no other tongue. He taught me to read and write French -and English, and when I was twelve years old he brought a woman from -Manga Riva to be my governess. She was half Samoan and half English, and -she had been educated in England. The island blood called her back. She -played the piano and was lazy and would get drunk if she could, but she -feared my father, so she taught me faithfully each day when sober. My -father paid her well—too well.” - -“What became of her, Tamea?” - -“She is dead. Influenza in nineteen eighteen. Our people do not survive -it, although I was very ill with it. My father said it was his blood -that saved me.” - -“Doubtless. What did you do all day in Riva?” - -“In the morning, early, I swam in the river or to the lagoon. The tiger -shark seldom comes inside the reef. Then breakfast and lessons for two -hours, then some sleep and more lessons late in the afternoon, followed, -perhaps, by another swim. Then dinner and after dinner some music and -song and perhaps a dance. Twice a year, sometimes three times a year, we -would have a big feast when some schooner would call for water and -supplies and offer trade for our copra. But my father controlled that.” - -“Were you happy, Tamea?” - -“Oh, yes, very!” - -“When your mother died, was your father in Riva?” - -“No, he came two months later. When he left I went with him, to go to -school in Tahiti. I have lived two years in Tahiti, and studied English -and French with a school teacher from Australia. She was governess to -the children of a Frenchman who was a good friend of my father.” - -“So that’s why you speak such good English.” - -She smiled happily. “You think so, Monsieur Dan Pritchard?” - -He nodded. “And do not call me Monsieur Dan Pritchard,” he suggested. -“Just call me plain Dan.” - -“As you like, Plain Dan.” - -Julia, listening, burst into a guffaw, caught herself in the middle of -it and was covered with confusion. Tamea looked at her very -suspiciously, but Julia’s quick Celtic wit saved her. She pretended to -have a violent fit of coughing. - -“Do you think you will be happy in San Francisco, Tamea?” Dan queried, -in an effort to stimulate conversation. - -“Who knows? Where one is not known, where it is cold and there is -neither singing nor dancing nor laughter nor love——” - -“Oh, that will come after you get acquainted! The first thing you must -do is to become familiar with your surroundings and outgrow a very -natural feeling of loneliness and, perhaps, homesickness. Then you shall -be sent to a boarding school and become a very fine young lady.” - -The suggestion aroused no enthusiasm in his guest, so he tried a new -tack and one which he felt assured would appeal to the eternal feminine -in her. - -“Tomorrow I shall ask Miss Morrison to go shopping with you and buy a -wonderful wardrobe for you, Tamea.” - -“I will take this woman Julia instead, if you please, Plain Dan,” she -replied. - -“Call me Dan,” he pleaded. “Just one word—Dan.” - -She nodded. “How long will I stay in your house, Dan?” - -“Why, as long as you care to, Tamea.” - -Again the grateful and adorable smile. “Then I shall stay here with you -always, Dan.” - -“Do you think we can manage without quarreling?” - -“There will be no quarreling.” - -“But you will obey me, Tamea. You will recognize my authority and do -exactly what I tell you to do.” - -She sighed. - -“Privately she thinks that’s a pretty large order,” Dan decided. - -Slowly Tamea sipped a glass of light white wine and pecked, without -enthusiasm, at a lamb chop. She sighed again. - -“I am very tired, Dan,” she said wearily. “I cannot eat more. I would -sleep.” - -Dan nodded to Julia, who set her tray on the sideboard and stood -prepared to escort her charge to bed. Tamea rose, walked around to Dan’s -chair, put her arms around his neck and drew his head toward her until -her cheek rested against his. - -“You are a good father and kind. I shall love you, _chéri_,” she said -softly. “You will kiss your little girl good night? No? But, yes, I -demand it, _mon père_. There, that is better. . . . Good night. In the -morning I will be brave; I will not be sad and oppress this household -with my sorrows.” - -She kissed him. It was not a mere peck but it was undoubtedly filial, -and Dan indeed was grateful in a full realization of this. - -“Good night, Tamea, dear child,” he said, and watched Julia lead her -away. - -He was still watching her as she crossed the entrance hall to the foot -of the stairs, when the door of the butler’s pantry squeaked very -slightly. Dan turned. Sooey Wan’s nose was at the aperture, and one of -his slant eyes was bent appreciatively upon Dan. - -“Get out,” Dan cried. “What are you spying for, you outrageous heathen?” - -“Velly nice. Captain’s girl velly nice. Heap nice kissee, eh? You bet! -Velly nice!” - -Dan was instantly furious. “Sooey Wan,” he roared, “you’re fired!” - -“Boss,” retorted Sooey Wan in dulcet, honeyed tones, “you klazy.” - -The door slid back into place and Sooey Wan returned chuckling to the -domain where he was king. - -An hour later, as Dan finished his first postprandial cigar, he decided -that after all there might be a modicum of truth in Sooey Wan’s -assertion. Sane he might be now—that is, moderately sane—but for all -that a still small voice had commenced to whisper that the extraordinary -events of this day were but a preliminary to still more extraordinary -events to follow. And that night he dreamed that a Chinese infant, with -a tuft of white ribbon tied in a bow at his midriff and armed with bow -and arrow, climbed up on the footboard of his bed and shot him, crying -meanwhile: - -“Velly nice! Velly, velly nice!” - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - -The guest chambers in Dan Pritchard’s home were two in number—richly -furnished but solid looking rooms for men. Julia scuttled from one to -the other, in a frenzy of indecision as to which was worthy to receive -her charge, while Tamea sat at the head of the staircase and waited. -Julia was several minutes making her decision as to whether Tamea would -look best in the room with taupe carpet and the French gray single bed, -or the one with the old-rose carpet and the old black walnut double bed. -Finally she decided on the former, and then sought Mrs. Pippy to ask if -Miss Morrison had sent over a spare nightgown. It developed that Miss -Morrison had neglected this important detail, so Mrs. Pippy graciously -donated one of her own and Julia returned with it. - -Then she discovered that Tamea, being a young woman of initiative and -decision, had very promptly solved the problem of sleeping quarters. -While she had been no stranger to bedsteads and pillows, nevertheless -her upbringing in Riva had taught Tamea that there was no necessity to -be particular as to a lodging for the night. She could always glean an -excellent rest on a mat spread on a stone floor, with a polished section -of the trunk of a coco-palm as a pillow; and while waiting for Julia to -return, the richly carpeted floor had attracted her attention. Promptly -she lay down in the hall, pillowed her head on her arm and went to sleep -almost instantly. - -“Poor lamb!” murmured the sympathetic Julia, and fled to summon Mrs. -Pippy to behold the unconventional guest. Mrs. Pippy gazed -disapprovingly, shook her handsome silvery head as if to say, “Mr. -Pritchard’s action in bringing this tomboy home for us to care for is -quite beyond _me_!” and retired to her room again, still shaking her -head. - -Julia awakened her sleepy charge. “Come with me, Tammy, darlin’,” she -pleaded. “Sure, the flure is no place for you.” - -“It is very soft,” Tamea protested. “And very warm, for such a cold -country.” - -“Wait till Sooey Wan—bad cess to him!—puts the furnace out. Ye’d be -froze shtiff in the mornin’, Tammy——” - -“My name is Tamea Oluolu Larrieau. You may call me Tamea, but to others -I must be Mademoiselle Larrieau.” - -“Oh, sure, why not lave me call ye Tammy? Not a one but me will use that -name.” - -“Your desire is granted because you are kind to me, Julia.” - -“Thank you, Tammy. Here, sit you down in this chair and I’ll take off -your shlippers. . . . Now, thin, here’s your nightgown. Take off your -clothes and put the nightgown on whilst I fix the bed for you and get -you a dhrink of wather.” - -Tamea held up Mrs. Pippy’s nightgown and looked it over critically. “The -wife of the missionary in Riva had several such as this,” she commented. -“It is not pretty. I had prettier ones than this aboard ship, but—for a -reason—I brought no baggage ashore with me. I do not like this -garment.” She tossed it through the open bathroom door into the tub. - -“Now, Tammy,” began Julia, mildly expostulating. - -“I will not wear it, Julia.” - -“Sure, why not, Tammy, you little ninny, you?” - -“What is a ninny?” - -“Heaven knows,” the helpless Julia replied, “but I’m thinkin’ I’m it, -whatever it may be. Why won’t you wear the nightgown, Tammy? Sure all -nice gir’rls——” - -“It belongs to her,” said Tamea and pointed majestically upward. “It -bears the letter _P_.” - -“Be the Rock of Cashel,” sighed poor Julia, “you’re windictive so you -are,” and without further ado she went upstairs and brought down one of -her own plain _chemises de nuit_. Without a word Tamea donned it and -crept dutifully into bed. - -“Do you not say your prayers before you get into bed, Tammy?” the pious -Julia queried reproachfully. - -Tamea shook her head, dark and beautiful against the snowy pillow. Julia -sighed. Her own problems were always dumped, metaphorically speaking, in -the lap of her Christian God, night and morning. - -“This is truly a bed for a queen,” said Tamea thoughtfully. “Is Monsieur -Dan Pritchard, then, a very rich man?” - -“He have barrels of it,” Julia replied reverently. - -“My father gave me to him, Julia.” - -“Faith, an’ that’s where he showed his common sinse. Divil a finer -gintleman could you find the wide wur’rld over.” - -Fell a long silence. Then: “Where is Madame Pritchard?” - -“The masther has never been married, Tammy.” - -“What? Has he, then, in his house none but serving women?” - -“Ssh! Don’t talk like that, Tammy. Of course he hasn’t.” - -“Strange,” murmured Tamea thoughtfully. “He is different from other men -of his race. Have no women sought his favor?” - -Julia was embarrassed and exasperated. “How the divil should I know?” -she protested indignantly. - -“You live in this house. You are his servant. Have you not ears? Are you -blind?” - -“I never shpy on the masther.” - -“Perhaps,” Tamea suggested, “it is because Monsieur Dan Pritchard has a -hatred of women.” - -“Sorra bit o’ that.” - -“Then is it that women have a hatred of him?” - -“They’d give the two eyes out of their heads to marry him.” - -A silence. “All this is very strange, Julia.” - -“Don’t worry about it, Tammy. Go to sleep now.” - -“Here is a great mystery. Has Monsieur Dan Pritchard, then, no -children?” - -“Heaven forbid!” Julia was now thoroughly scandalized. - -“Here _is_ a mystery. Does he not desire sons to inherit his name and -wealth?” - -“I never discussed the matther wit’ him.” - -“This is, indeed, a strange country with strange customs.” - -“We’ll think o’ that in the mornin’, Tammy darlin’. Shall I put out the -light?” - -“Yes, my good Julia. Good night.” - -“Good night, dear.” Julia switched off the light and retired to the -door. Here, poised for flight, she turned and shot back at her charge a -question that had been perplexing her: - -“Are you a Protestant or a Catholic, Tammy?” - -“Neither,” murmured Tamea. - -“Glory be! ’Tis not a Jew you are?” - -“No.” - -“Well, what, thin?” - -“Are you trying to convert me, Julia?” - -“I am not.” - -“Then why do you ask?” - -“I’m that curious, Tammy.” - -“If you act like a missionary’s wife I shall dismiss you from my -service, Julia. I have no religion. I am free. I do what I jolly well -please. Yes, you bet.” - -“An’ there’s an idea for you!” Julia soliloquized as she passed softly -out. “Begorry, we’ll have a grand time of it with that one, so we will. -Somebody’s been puttin’ notions in her head. _Ochone!_ Where the divil -was that one raised, I dunno. Angel that she is to look at she’s had a -slack father an’ mother, I’ll lay odds on that.” - -Julia sighed and went downstairs to seek the aid of Sooey Wan in -scratching out the numbers of her choice on a ticket for the next day’s -drawing in the Chinese lottery. She found Sooey Wan washing the dishes -and singing softly. - -“Are you singin’ or cryin’, Sooey Wan?” Julia greeted him. - -“Hullah for hell,” said Sooey Wan. He tossed a soup plate to the ceiling -and caught it deftly as it came down. “Boss ketchum velly nice girl,” he -began. - -“Can’t the poor man be kind to an orphan without you, you yellow divil, -puttin’ dogs in windows?” - -“Velly nice,” Sooey Wan repeated doggedly. “Pretty soon I think give -boss many sons.” - -“Say-y-y, what sort o’ place is this gettin’ to be, anyhow?” - -“Pretty soon Sooey Wan think this going be legular place. One house no -ketchum baby, no legular house.” - -“Say nothin’ to Mrs. Pippy of what’s in that ould head of yours, Sooey -Wan. What wit’ one haythen downstairs an’ another upstairs the woman’ll -be givin’ notice.” - -Sooey Wan pulled open a drawer in the kitchen table and tossed out a -handful of bills and silver. “Ketchum ten spot for you today, Julia,” he -explained. “You lucky. Ketchum ten spot, ketchum pearl.” - -“Faith, you’ll catch more than that if you don’t lear’rn to mind your -own business,” Julia warned him. - - * * * * * - -Long after the household had retired Dan Pritchard sat before the living -room fireplace reviewing in his mind’s eye the startling events of that -day. He felt depressed, obsessed by an unreasonable, wholly inexplicable -presentiment of events still more startling to occur in the not very -distant future. - -As a rule, the majority of women puzzled Dan, many of them frightened -him, and all of them disturbed him. Of all the women he had ever known, -Maisie Morrison alone appeared to possess the gift of contributing to -his mental rest, his sense of spiritual well-being, even while her -practical, definite and positive personality occasionally disturbed his -creature comfort, robbed him of that sense of leadership and strength -which it is the right of all men to exhibit toward the women of their -choice, and appeared to render null and void the necessity for any -exhibition of the protective instinct. Infrequently Dan complained to -himself that Maisie would be a transcendently wonderful girl if she but -possessed just a trifle more imagination; having convinced himself that -this was so, he would watch for definite evidence to convict Maisie of -such a lack, only to be hurled back into his old state of mental -confusion by indubitable evidence that Maisie could read him and his -innermost thoughts as readily as if he were a signboard. - -When he had complained to Maisie that morning that he was a square peg -in the round hole, he had voiced the unrest which all born radicals -experience when forced to live conservatively. For Dan knew he was a -radical in his viewpoint on many things held sacred by his conservative -brethren; he knew he lacked the instinctive caution and constructive -conservatism so evident in Maisie. He felt as one whose soul was hobbled -with a ball and chain. Maisie, he knew, suffered from no such sense of -repression, and this knowledge of her mental freedom sometimes forced -upon him a secret, almost womanish irritation. - -Sometimes Dan was almost convinced that he ought to rid himself of his -habit of introspection, marry Maisie and live happily ever afterward. -Then, just as he would be almost on the point of growing loverlike, -Maisie would seem to pop out at him from a mental ambush; would seem to -lay a cool finger on the soul of him and say quite positively: “Here, -Dan, is where it hurts. The pain isn’t where you think it is at all. You -are a foolish, imaginative man, and if you do not heed my direction now, -you will eventually regret that you did not.” - -And then Dan, outwardly smiling and expansive but inwardly glum and -shriveling, would tell himself that he could never, never dwell in -idyllic married bliss with such a dominating and interfering woman; and -Maisie, secretly furious, baffled, would watch him change from the -devoted admirer to the warm friend. - -Tonight Dan decided that he was, beyond the slightest vestige of a -doubt, tremendously fond of Maisie Morrison. But—he was not at all -certain that he loved her well enough to ask her to marry him; he -marveled now, more than ever previously, what imp of impulse had moved -him to kiss her that morning. How warm and sweet and responsive had been -that momentary pressure of her lips to his? He visualized again that -lambent light that had leaped into her eyes. . . had he gone too far? - -The telephone in the booth under the stairs in the entrance hall rang -faintly. He reached for the extension telephone on the living room table -and said: “Yes, Maisie?” - -“How did you know it was I?” Maisie’s voice demanded. - -“I cannot answer that question, Maisie. I merely knew. You see, I was -just beginning to think that I might have called you up and——” - -“Indeed, yes,” she interrupted. How like her, he reflected. Her agile -brain was always leaping ahead to a conclusion and landing on it fairly -and squarely. “I have waited three hours for a report from you, Dan, and -when eleven o’clock came and you had not telephoned I couldn’t restrain -my curiosity any longer. Mrs. Pippy telephoned about seven o’clock and -told me an extraordinary and unbelievable tale of a semi-savage young -woman whom you had brought home and established as a guest in your -bachelor domicile. Mrs. Pippy tried her best to appear calm, but I -sensed——” - -“I’m quite certain you did, Maisie,” he interrupted in turn. “You sensed -Mrs. Pippy’s amazement, indignation and disapproval. You’re the most -marvelous woman for sensing things that I have ever known.” - -“But then, Dan,” she reminded him, “you haven’t known very many women -intimately. You’re such a shy man. Sometimes I think you must have -gleaned all of your knowledge of my sex from your father and Sooey Wan. -Who is the South Sea belle, Dan, and what _do_ you mean by picking up -with such a creature and expecting me to help you render her -presentable?” - -“I didn’t expect you to, Maisie. I didn’t ask you and I didn’t suggest -that Mrs. Pippy ask you.” - -“I couldn’t get any very coherent information from Mrs. Pippy. She was -greatly agitated. However, I called Julia up a few minutes later and -from Julia I learned that your guest hasn’t sufficient of a wardrobe to -pad a crutch.” - -“Julia is very amusing,” he replied evenly. “However, do not think the -young lady arrived here in a hula-hula costume. I am her guardian.” - -“How do you know you are?” Maisie demanded, a bit crisply. - -“Her father, Captain Larrieau, of our schooner Moorea, asked me to be -before he died this afternoon.” - -“Hum-m-m!” Maisie was silent momentarily. “How like a man to think he -can fill such an order without outside help.” - -He was exasperated. “There you go, Maisie,” he complained, “jumping to a -conclusion.” - -“If I’ve jumped to a conclusion, Dan, rest assured I have landed -squarely on my objective. Why didn’t you telephone me the instant you -reached home with your ward? I would have been happy to aid you, Dan.” - -“I am sure you would have been, Maisie, but—well——” - -“I knew I was right, Dan. The only way I can find things out is to be -rude and ask questions. You thought I might not approve of——” - -“Of what?” he demanded triumphantly. - -“Of the young woman you brought home with you, of course.” Maisie’s -voice carried just a hint of irritation. - -“Certainly not. I was certain you would approve of her. She’s quite a -child—about seventeen or eighteen years old, I should say—and a -perfectly dazzling creature—ah, that is, amazingly interesting in her -directness, her frankness, her unconventionality and innocence. I do -hope you’ll like her. I thought at first I could entrust her to Mrs. -Pippy but——” - -“I gathered as much, Dan. Now, start at the beginning and tell me -everything about her.” - -Dan complied with her demand. When the recital was ended, said Maisie: -“What are you going to do with her, Dan?” - -“My instructions from her father were to educate her and affiance her to -some worthy fellow. I shall cast my eye around the local French colony -after the girl has completed her schooling. She has a fortune of -approximately a quarter of a million dollars—always an interesting -subject for contemplation and discussion in the matrimonial -preliminaries.” He heard her chuckle softly and realized that she found -amusement visualizing him in the role of a matchmaker. “I suppose,” he -ventured, “you’re wondering why I didn’t take her to a hotel.” - -“Any other man in your sphere of life would, but I am not so optimistic -as to expect you to do the usual thing. I’m consumed with curiosity to -see your Tamea, Dan.” - -“A meeting can be arranged,” he answered dryly. “As soon as my little -queen has had an opportunity to purchase a wardrobe befitting her rank -and wealth, I shall be happy to have you presented at court, Maisie.” - -“I suppose you’re going to select her wardrobe?” - -“No, I think Julia will attend to that.” - -“In heaven’s name, Dan, why Julia? Have you ever seen Julia all dressed -up and about to set out for Golden Gate Park? Mrs. Pippy has excellent -taste.” - -“Mrs. Pippy is not, I fear, the favorite of the queen.” - -“Then I shall attend to her outfitting, Dan. - -“Will you, Maisie, dear?” - -“Of course, idiot.” - -“Well, that lifts a burden off my shoulders.” - -“You do not deserve such consideration, Dan. You’re too uncommunicative -when you are the possessor of amazing news. However, you’re such a -helpless, blundering Simple Simon I knew somebody would have to manage -you while you’re managing Tamea. So I concluded to volunteer for the -sacrifice.” - -“Maisie, you’re a peach. I could kiss you for that speech.” - -“Really, you’re running wild, Dan. You kissed me once today. And I’ve -been wondering why ever since.” - -“How should I know?” he confessed. He had a sudden, freakish impulse to -annoy her. - -“Stupid! Were I as stupid as you—— I’ll be at your house at about ten -o’clock tomorrow and take charge of your problem.” - -“I shall be eternally grateful.” - -“And eternally silly and eternally afraid of me and what I’m going to -think about everything. I could pull your nose. Good night.” She hung up -without waiting for his answer. - -“I fear me Maisie is the bossy, efficient type of young woman,” he -soliloquized as he replaced the receiver. “I hope she and Tamea will hit -it off together. I sincerely hope it.” - -At midnight Sooey Wan came in from Chinatown, following a prodigious -burning of devil papers in a local joss-house and a somewhat profitable -two hours of poker. - -His slant eyes appraised Dan kindly. “Boss,” he ordered, “go bed. You -all time burn ’em too muchee light, too muchee coal, too muchee wood. -Cost muchee money.” He moved briskly about the room, switching off the -electric light. “Too muchee thinkee, too muchee headache,” he warned -Dan. “You not happy, boss, you thinkee too much. No good!” - -“Oh, confound your Oriental philosophy!” Dan rasped back at him. “The -curse of it is, you’re right!” - -Sooey Wan pointed authoritatively upward and Dan slowly climbed the -stairs to his room. - -Thus ended a momentous day. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - -At breakfast the following morning Maisie Morrison decided to make no -mention to her aunt and uncle of the interesting bit of news concerning -Dan Pritchard of which she was the possessor. - -Always cautious and conservative, she preferred to place herself in full -possession of the facts in the case, and to have this information -bolstered up by her own feeling about the situation following a meeting -with Dan’s ward, before discussing his business with anybody. - -Maisie was mildly amused in the knowledge that Dan, of all men, should -have such a problem thrust upon him; she looked forward with no little -interest to watching the peculiar man approach his unusual duty. She -expected if she mentioned the matter that old Casson would laugh -patronizingly and pretend to find the situation devoid of a mature man’s -interest; he might even indulge himself in some light and caustic -criticism, with a touch of elephantine humor in it. That had seemed to -be his attitude toward Dan for a year past and Maisie resented it -fiercely—all the more fiercely, in fact, because her position in -Casson’s household forbade an expression of her resentment. - -“I think I shall motor to Del Monte this morning for two weeks of golf,” -old Casson announced to his wife and Maisie at breakfast. “Suppose you -two pack up and go with me.” - -“I think that would be delightful, John,” his wife replied. - -“I have other fish to fry. Sorry!” Maisie answered him. “If you had -hinted of this yesterday, Uncle John——” - -“My dear Maisie, the idea but this moment occurred to me. Better alter -your plans and come along.” - -She shook her head. - -“It occurred to me this instant—as I have already stated—” Casson -continued, “to escape boredom for two weeks. Our schooner Moorea is in -port and will remain here that long, in all probability. That means the -office will be set by the heels. Her bear-like skipper, Larrieau, will -go roaring from one room to the other, disturbing everybody except -Pritchard and amusing everybody except me. I cannot tolerate the man, -and if I should see too much of him I fear I might forget his record for -efficiency and dismiss him. He was a pet of Dan’s father, and Dan, too, -makes much of him. I dislike pets in a business office.” - -Maisie looked at him coolly. “Then you will be happy to know that your -contemplated exile to Del Monte is quite unnecessary, Uncle John. -Captain Larrieau was discovered, upon arrival, to be a leper, so he sent -ashore for Dan, settled all of his business and committed suicide by -drowning yesterday evening.” - -“Bless my soul! Where did you glean this astounding intelligence?” - -“I talked with Dan over the telephone late last night.” - -“You should have told me sooner, Maisie.” - -Old Casson’s voice was stern; his weak, handsome face pretended chagrin. - -“Why?” - -“Why? What a question! Isn’t the man in my employ—or, at least, wasn’t -he?” - -“He was in the employ of Casson and Pritchard, and Dan Pritchard has -attended to the matter for the firm.” - -“I should have been communicated with immediately. Pritchard should have -telephoned to me, not to you.” - -“Oh dear, Uncle John! One would think you revered the man so highly you -planned to have the bay dragged to recover his body, instead of being -happy in the knowledge that you have gotten rid of the nuisance.” - -“Humph-h-h-h! We’ll not discuss it further, my dear. However, it is -difficult for me to refrain from expressing my irritation. How like -young Pritchard it was to disregard me entirely in this matter! For all -the deference or consideration that fellow pays me as the senior member -of the firm, I might as well be a traffic policeman.” - -Maisie’s fine eyes flamed in sudden anger. “Has it ever occurred to you, -Uncle John, that in declining to annoy you with unnecessary details, by -his persistence in relieving you of the labor and worry of the business -management of Casson and Pritchard, Dan may be showing you the courtesy -and consideration due you as the senior member of the firm?” - -“I am not a back number—yet, Maisie,” he assured her. - -“Why do you not buy him out, Uncle John? He seems to be a very great -trial to you.” - -Old Casson appeared to consider this suggestion very seriously as he -gravely tapped the shell of his matutinal egg. “That isn’t a half bad -idea, Maisie,” he answered. “At present, however, I am scarcely in -position to buy his interest. I anticipate this condition will be -materially changed within the next three or four months, and then——” - -He paused eloquently and scooped his egg into the glass. - -“I infer you have a hen on,” Maisie suggested. - -“Perhaps the metaphor would be less mixed if we substituted a goose for -the hen. I believe the goose is the fowl currently credited with the -ability to lay golden eggs.” - -“John Casson!” His wife now spoke for the first time. “Are you mixed in -another gamble?” - -“Not at all, my dear, not at all. I have invested in several cargoes of -Chinese rice at a very low price, and I have sold one cargo at a very -high price. I am holding the others for the crest of a market that is -rising like a toy balloon. It isn’t gambling, my dear. It’s just a -mortal certainty.” - -The good lady sighed. How often, in the thirty years of her life with -John Casson, had she heard him, in those same buoyant, confident, -mellifluous tones, assure her of the infallibility of victory due to his -superior judgment! - -As usual, Maisie placed her finger on the sore spot. “What does Dan -think of it, Uncle John?” - -“He doesn’t think anything, my dear. He doesn’t know.” - -“Oh, I see! This is a private venture of yours?” - -He nodded. “Yes—and no, Maisie. It’s a Casson and Pritchard deal, only -I’m engineering it myself. I’m going to prove to that overconfident -young man the truth of the old saying ‘Nothing risked, nothing gained.’ -Why, the biggest thing in years lay right under his nose—and he passed -it by.” - -“He was in Honolulu on that pineapple deal when you stumbled across this -good thing, was he not, Uncle John?” - -“Yes, but then he knew about it before he left for Honolulu.” - -“Well, I hope you’ll make a killing, Uncle John.” - -He beamed his thanks upon her. “When I do—and I cannot _help_ doing -it—I’m going to be mighty nice to my niece,” he assured her. “However,” -he continued reminiscently, “my day for taking a sporting chance is -over. I’ve learned my lesson.” - -“Have you?” his wife ventured hopefully. - -“Just to prove to you that I have,” he challenged, “if I get an offer of -twenty-four cents per pound, f.o.b. Havana, today, I’ll sell every pound -of rice I have in transit or hold under purchase contract.” - -“What was the market yesterday, John?” - -“Twenty-three cents.” - -“Sell at that today,” Maisie urged him. - -He smiled and shook his head. These women! How little they knew of the -great game of business! How little did they realize that, to succeed, a -man must be possessed of an amazing courage, a stupendous belief in his -own powers, in his knowledge of the game he is playing. Maisie read him -accurately. He was as easy to read as an electric sign. - -When he had departed for the office, Mrs. Casson, a dainty, very -youthful appearing woman of fifty-five, and long since robbed of any -illusions concerning certain impossible phases of her husband’s -character spoke up: - -“Sometimes, Maisie, I suspect John Casson is in his second childhood.” - -“You’re wrong, Auntie. In some respects he hasn’t emerged from his first -childhood. For instance, Uncle John is nurturing the belief that Dan -isn’t aware of his operations.” - -“You think Dan knows?” - -“I’m sure of it.” - -“Has he told you so?” - -“No.” - -“He ought to be told.” - -“I shall tell him—this very morning. Uncle John, wrapped in his supreme -sense of self-sufficiency, appears to have forgotten that in an -unlimited partnership each partner is irrevocably bound by the actions -of the other.” - -“I wonder at Dan’s patience with him.” - -“I do not. Dan has explained it to me.” - -Mrs. Casson’s maternal glance dwelt tenderly upon her dead sister’s -daughter. “Maisie, I want to talk to you about Dan,” she began, but -Maisie raised a deprecating hand. - -“What profit could possibly arise from such a discussion?” - -Mrs. Casson, however, was a woman driven by curiosity. “I wonder if he -is in love with you, my dear. Sometimes I am almost certain of it, and -at other times I am not so certain.” - -“I think dear old simple Dan finds himself similarly afflicted.” - -“Well?” The query, the inflection and the dramatic pause before the good -soul continued were not lost on Maisie. “Why don’t you do something -about it, dear?” - -“Why should I?” - -“You’re twenty-four years old—and certainly Dan Pritchard is the most -eligible bachelor in your set. And I know you’re very, very fond of -him.” - -“Everybody is. He is wholly lovable.” - -“Well, then, Maisie——” - -“Men dislike pursuit, dear. That is their peculiar prerogative. I prefer -to be dear to Dan Pritchard, as his closest friend, rather than to -disturb him as a prospective wife. Dan is old-fashioned, quite -dignified, idealistic, altruistic, artistic, and as shy and retiring as -a rabbit. I’m certain he isn’t the least bit interested in your plans to -alter his scheme of existence by adding a wife to it.” - -“You’d marry Dan Pritchard tomorrow if he asked you today.” - -“Perhaps,” Maisie agreed. “However, I shall not pursue him nor shall I -hurl myself at him. I prefer to operate on the principle that, after -all, I may prove more or less eligible myself!” - -“You desire to be pursued, I see.” - -“What woman does not—by the right man?” - -“Then is Dan Pritchard the right man?” - -“No woman could really answer such a question truthfully until after she -had been married to Dan. I have never given much thought to Dan as a -matrimonial possibility.” - -“That is an admission that you have at least given him _some_ thought, -Maisie.” - -“Of course, silly. What is a girl to think when a man’s freakish humor -dictates that he shall develop all of the outward evidences of a -sentimental interest one week and shrink from exhibiting the slightest -evidence of it a week later? Sometimes I think that Dan is a habit with -me; sometimes I’m quite certain I am a habit with him. I think I was -twelve years old when Dan took me to a vaudeville show one Saturday -afternoon. I remember I held his hand all through the show and he fed me -so much candy I was ill. However, he is a pleasant and delightful habit -to me, and I am not anxious to renounce him; I hope he feels the same -toward me. By the way, I have an engagement with him this morning. I -must run along and dress.” - -She left her aunt gazing speculatively after her. Mrs. Casson shook her -head and sighed. “It’s her frightful spirit of independence,” she -soliloquized. “She scares him away. I just know it. And I do wish I knew -what to do about it.” - -Providentially, she did not! - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - -Promptly at ten o’clock the Casson limousine deposited Maisie in front -of the Pritchard residence. Dan, watching for her appearance from behind -the front window curtains, observed that two young women and a fussy, -somewhat threadbare little man of undoubted Hebraic ancestry emerged -from the limousine and followed her up the stairs. - -Julia opened the door and Maisie led her followers into the living room. -“Good morning, Dan,” she greeted him and gave him her hand. “I’ve -brought half a dozen evening dresses which may or may not impress your -ward; also a model to parade the dresses for Tamea’s inspection, and a -fitter to note the necessary alterations. Of course, she’ll have to have -some street clothes, so I’ve brought Rubenstein, my tailor, to take -measurements.” - -“By Jupiter, Maisie, you’re a marvel! You think of everything.” He -pressed Maisie’s hand in his. “You may ask Miss Larrieau if she will be -good enough to come down to the living room, Julia,” he directed. - -“I will go up with Julia,” Maisie said, and followed the maid. - -The Queen of Riva sat in a small, low chair before the window. She wore -a dark silk dressing gown, which the democratic Julia had filched from -Dan Pritchard’s clothes closet, and she was gazing down into the street, -gray and wet with fog. Her elbows rested on her knees, her face reposed -in her hands, and she was weeping, silently and without a quiver. Julia -went to her, patted her wet cheek and said: - -“Look up, Tammy darlin’. Here is Miss Morrison to see you. Miss Morrison -is the kind leddy that sint over the nice dhress for you last night, an’ -sure she has tailors an’ cloak models and dhressmakers an’ dhresses -downshtairs waitin’ for you.” - -Tamea dried her eyes, shook her wonderful hair back over her ivory brow, -rose slowly and faced Maisie with a certain cool deliberation. Her eyes -swept Maisie’s figure; she forced a smile of greeting. - -“I am—happy to—meet—Miss Morrison. When one is—almost—alone and -very unhappy—kindness from a stranger is like the sun that comes to dry -the sails, following a storm.” - -“Her greeting is as regal as her bearing,” was Maisie’s thought. She -favored Tamea with a courteous little nod and her bright smile—then -held out her hand. Tamea hesitated, then extended her own. - -“You are Maisie?” she queried. - -“Yes, I am Maisie. How did you know, Miss Larrieau?” - -“I guessed,” Tamea answered simply. “You are a much nicer woman than I -had expected to meet.” - -Maisie flushed, partly with pleasure, partly with embarrassment. “I -shall try to be nice to you, Miss Larrieau, always.” - -“You may call me Tamea, if you please. I shall call you Maisie.” - -“Will ye listen to that!” Julia declared happily. “Sure, Tammy’s no -different from the rest of us. She’s in love wit’ you at sight, Miss -Morrison, so she is.” - -“I think with you, Tamea, that we should dispense with formality. I -shall be happy to be your friend and to help you to adjust your life to -new conditions.” - -“I accept your friendship.” Tamea’s words came slowly, gravely. “You are -not a woman of common blood.” - -Maisie stepped close to her, removed from her fingers the sodden little -ball of a handkerchief and replaced it with a fresh one of filmy lace -from her handbag. “Tell my chauffeur to go back to the house and fetch -Céleste, my maid,” she ordered Julia. “Between Céleste and me this -wonderful hair shall be done exactly right. When you come upstairs -again, Julia, bring up those boxes and the two girls in the living room. -Rubenstein shall wait.” - -“Monsieur Dan Pritchard told me at breakfast that Miss Morrison would -call to help me select the clothing which it is fit that I should wear -in this country,” said Tamea when they were alone. - -“You are a brunette—one of the wonderful, olive-skinned type. With -those great dark eyes and that wealth of jet-black hair you will look -amazingly chic in something red and silvery or white. May I see your -foot, Tamea?” - -Tamea sat down and thrust out a brown foot. It was somewhat shorter and -broader than Maisie had expected to see, but the arch was high and the -toes perfect, with the great toe quite prehensile. - -“You have gone barefoot a great deal, Tamea?” - -“In Riva, always. In Tahiti I wore sandals.” - -“You will have to wear shoes here, Tamea. I think a number five will do, -but we must be very particular not to spoil that foot. It is the only -natural foot I have ever seen except on a baby. How old are you?” - -“Eighteen.” - -Maisie could scarcely believe this statement. Physically Tamea was a -fully developed woman, perhaps five feet seven inches tall, a creature -of soft curves, yet lithe and graceful and falling just a trifle short -of being slim. Her ears were delicately formed but of generous -proportions, her neck, sturdy and muscular, swept in beautiful curves to -meet a torso full-breasted and deep. - -“Her form is perfect, and I believe she has a magnificent back,” thought -Maisie. “Her neck and head are Junoesque.” - -They were, indeed. Tamea’s head, in shape, resembled her father’s in -that it was larger than that of most women, and of that width between -the ears which denotes brain capacity and consequently intelligence. Her -features were not small; indeed, they were almost large, but of -patrician regularity and loveliness of line. Her brow was high and wide, -her eyebrows fine, silken and thick, while her eyelashes were -extraordinarily long, giving a slightly sleepy appearance to large, -intelligent, beautiful eyes of a very dark brown shade—almost black. -Her chin was well developed, firm; from behind full, red, healthy lips -Maisie saw peeping fine, strong, white, regular teeth. Tamea’s skin was -clear to the point of near-transparency and her hands were small with -lovely tapered fingers. - -“A perfect woman,” thought Maisie. “She is more than beautiful. She is -magnificent—and when she has been dressed properly——” - -Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Julia and the cloak -model and fitter. Thereafter, for an hour, Tamea dwelt in paradise. -Maisie’s taste, in the matter of dress, was undoubtedly exquisite, and -when she discovered that this exotic islander could wear with dignity -raiment which, on another woman, would be regarded as flamboyant, Maisie -felt that quiet joy which comes to all women who discover beauty or help -to create it. Tamea, too, developed all of the interest of her sex in -the beautiful garments submitted for her selection; so engrossing was -that interest that by the time Rubenstein had departed Tamea’s drooping -spirits had been more than a little uplifted. She commanded Julia to -summon Dan to admire such portions of her wardrobe as she had already -selected. - -“My dear, but you must wait until you are fully dressed,” Mrs. Pippy -cautioned her. Tamea was barefooted and wearing the skirt of a -ready-made tailored suit, but not the coat; neither was she wearing -waist or brassiere. - -“Why?” she demanded coolly. “Why should I demand of Monsieur Dan -Pritchard that he wait upon my pleasure?” - -“But you can’t receive him half dressed.” - -Tamea, for answer, took from the dresser a large framed photograph of -Maisie Morrison in evening dress. “Mademoiselle Maisie was but half -dressed when she had this photograph made. Julia, call Monsieur Dan -Pritchard.” - -Mrs. Pippy’s cold blue eye warned Julia that the price of obedience -might be prohibitive. Julia hesitated. - -Tamea, Queen of Riva, stamped a bare foot. “Obey me!” she commanded. - -“Och, sure now, Tammy, darlin’, listen to Mrs. Pippy, there’s a -dear——” - -“There will be no talk. Obey!” - -“Julia,” said Mrs. Pippy firmly, “in this house you take your orders -from me. When Miss Larrieau is properly dressed she may receive Mr. -Pritchard, but not before.” - -“Julia is my servant. She takes orders from no one but me,” Tamea warned -Mrs. Pippy. “Dan Pritchard gave Julia to me.” - -“Julia is not a slave, to be given away at will, Miss Larrieau. She must -be consulted in such transactions.” - -“Did you not accept me as your mistress, Julia?” There could be no -evasion. - -“I did that,” Julia confessed weakly. - -“Summon Monsieur Dan Pritchard. Take no heed of this woman—this Pippy.” - -“If you disobey me, Julia,” Mrs. Pippy warned, “I shall be forced to -dismiss you without a reference.” - -“If you disobey _me_, Julia,” Tamea countered, “I shall dismiss you but -not until you have been beaten. In my country that is how bad servants -are treated.” - -Julia appealed to Maisie. “What shall I do, Miss Morrison?” - -Maisie sighed. “It is apparent, Julia,” she replied, “that Mrs. Pippy -and Tamea have not hit it off very well together. Mrs. Pippy’s position -in this house must not, she very properly feels, be questioned. Tamea, -who has doubtless never heretofore had her authority questioned, has -elected to make an issue of the seat of authority. We will seek a -compromise.” She turned to Tamea and smiled upon her kindly. “Will you -please me, Tamea, by declining to oppose Mrs. Pippy’s authority in this -house?” - -“I will not, Maisie, although I am sorry not to be kind to you. I am not -one accustomed to taking orders and I will not have this Pippy thwart my -desires. As you say, I have elected to force the issue. It is better -thus. Why wait? Julia, for the last time, I order you to obey my -command.” - -“Heaven help me!” groaned Julia, and turned to open the door. Mrs. -Pippy’s cool, firm voice halted her. - -“Julia!” - -“I’m thinkin’, Mrs. Pippy, ye’ll have a hard time queenin’ it over a -rale queen,” said Julia. She made Mrs. Pippy a curious curtsy. “I quits -yer service, ma’am,” she announced, thereby in the language of the -sporting world beating the excellent Mrs. Pippy to the punch. The door -closed behind her. - -“You are dismissed. Pack and leave at once.” Thus the Pippy edict, -shouted after the retiring maid. - -Tamea smiled and watched the door until Dan Pritchard knocked on it. - -“Come, Dan Pritchard,” Tamea called. She was standing in the center of -the room, on parade as it were, when he entered and permitted his amazed -glance to rest upon her. Maisie saw him recoil perceptibly, saw him as -quickly become master of the situation. - -“Well, well, what a marvelous apparition!” was all he said. - -“You like these garments?” - -“Indeed I do, Tamea. Put the coat on, please, until I see the fit of -it. . . .” He sat down and waited until Tamea had finished. Then: -“Stunning, by Jupiter! Maisie, I’m so grateful to you for helping Tamea -and me. You’re the shadow of a rock in a weary land.” - -He approached Tamea and fingered the material in her suit. “Do you think -this is quite heavy enough, Maisie?” he queried anxiously. “Our climate -is not quite so salubrious as our little queen is accustomed to.” - -Tamea came close to him, grasping each lapel, gazing upward at him with -frank approval and admiration. - -“You would not care to have your Tamea die?” she queried. - -“Indeed, my dear, I would not.” - -“You would not care to have your Tamea put out of this warm house to -suffer in the cold?” - -“Certainly not.” - -“You will never, never put Tamea away from you?” - -“Great Scot, no! I promised your father I’d take care of you, child. -What’s worrying you?” - -Tamea sighed. “I have felt the necessity to leave this house,” she -confessed, “unless assured that my orders to my servant will not be -interfered with. Pippy grows very—well, what you call—fresh!” - -Dan sensed the approach of a cyclone and hastily sought the cellar. “My -dear Tamea,” he assured her, “it is conceivable that you may find _me_ -growing what you call fresh if you seek to impose your will on mine. -Mrs. Pippy’s orders to the servants of this house must be obeyed by -those servants. Meanwhile, try to be nice and—er—polite to Mrs. -Pippy.” - -“I think you ought to know what Tamea is driving at, Dan,” Maisie -interposed. “Tamea is in open rebellion against Mrs. Pippy and the -disaffection has spread to Julia.” - -“Mr. Pritchard,” said Mrs. Pippy with great dignity, “I have found it -necessary to dismiss Julia for insubordination.” - -“Julia belongs to me. Pippy cannot dismiss my Julia, can she, dear Dan -Pritchard?” Thus the unhappy man was caught between the cross-fire of -the conflicting pair. Dan looked helplessly at Maisie, who eyed him -sympathetically and humorously. “Let there be no weakness here,” Tamea -warned. “I would have my answer.” - -“Why, of course, you asked me for Julia and I said you could have her,” -Dan began. At that moment Julia entered the room. “Julia,” Dan queried, -“do you desire to remain in the service of Miss Larrieau?” - -“Humph! Faith, I’ve never left her ser’rvice, sir.” - -“Mrs. Pippy informs me she has dismissed you.” - -“The back o’ me hand to Mrs. Pippy.” Julia had started running true to -her racial instincts, which dictate a bold, offensive spirit in the face -of disaster. - -“Julia remains!” cried Tamea. - -“Julia goes!” - -Devoutly Dan wished that an old-fashioned magician were on hand to -render him invisible. - -“Dear Mrs. Pippy,” he pleaded, “I appeal to the undoubted wisdom of your -years—to your innate sense of proportion—er—to your—why, dash it -all, this difference of opinion about Julia has me in the very deuce of -a box. Surely you must realize, Mrs. Pippy, the total lack of reason, of -understanding, from our viewpoint, in this child!” - -“Oh,” Tamea interrupted coldly, “you think I am a fool!” Suddenly she -commenced to cry and cast herself, sobbing, upon the Pritchard breast. - -He glanced over her heaving ivory shoulders to Mrs. Pippy, then to -Maisie. “I’ve taken a big contract,” he complained. - -“Julia goes,” said Mrs. Pippy firmly. - -Tamea heard the edict and her round, wonderful arms clasped Dan -Pritchard a trifle tighter—it seemed that her heart was just one notch -closer to disintegration. - -“Julia stays,” she sobbed. “You gave Julia to your Tamea—yes, you -did—you did—_you did_!” - -Suddenly, impelled by what cosmic force he knew not, Dan Pritchard made -his decision and with it precipitated upon his defenseless head a swarm -of troubles. “Excuse me, dear Mrs. Pippy,” he said gently. “I am sorry -to have to veto your decision, which I trust is not an unalterable one. -Julia—confound her Celtic skin—stays!” - -Mrs. Pippy bowed her silvery head with the utmost composure and swept -magnificently from the room; Tamea raised her tear-stained face from -Dan’s breast, took a Pritchard ear in each hand, drew his face down to -hers and rewarded him for his fearless stand with a somewhat moist and -fervent kiss. Maisie, watching the tableau composedly, felt a sharp, -sudden stab of resentment against Tamea—or was it jealousy? - -“Well, that’s settled,” she remarked dryly, and Dan sensed the sting. - -He looked at his watch. “Got to be going down to the office,” he -mumbled, presenting the first excuse for escape that came to his mind. -His anxious glance searched Maisie’s blue eyes in vain for that humorous -glint that had marked them when he first entered the room. “Please help -me, Maisie,” he murmured appealingly. “I’ve got my hands full.” - -Maisie nodded. “I’ll try to undo the mischief, Dan. By the way, Uncle -John told me something this morning that you ought to know. He’s up to -his silly eyebrows in the rice market.” - -“The double-crossing old idiot! I had begun to suspect he was up to some -skull-duggery. I was on his trail and would have smoked him out in a day -or two.” - -“I imagine that is why he told Auntie and me about it. He wanted me to -break the news to you, I think.” - -Dan’s head hung low on his breast—the sad Abraham Lincoln look was in -his face and in his troubled eyes. Tamea, looking up at him very soberly -now, read the distress which, momentarily, he could not conceal; in a -sudden burst of sympathy her arm started to curve around his neck. - -“Oh, stop it, stop it, Tamea!” Maisie cried sharply. “Mr. Pritchard is -not accustomed to such intimate personal attentions from comparative -strangers.” - -Tamea drew away from Dan quickly. - -“Dress yourself!” Maisie commanded. “Julia, help her. Dan, run along and -try not to worry.” - -Tamea’s eyes flashed, but nevertheless she sat down and when Julia -handed her a pair of black silken hose she commenced dutifully to draw -them on. - -“Much obliged for the tip, Maisie. I’ll start a riot in Casson and -Pritchard’s office this very day. By the way, I think Mrs. Pippy is on -her high horse. Please try to wheedle her down.” - -“Mrs. Pippy has resigned, Dan.” - -“The deuce she has; how do you know?” - -“Why, any woman of spirit would.” - -He pondered this. - -“Oh, well, let her go if she wants to. She’s scarcely human at times. -Well, if she insists upon leaving I’ll give her a year’s salary in -advance. . . . Damnation. . . . Good morning, Maisie, dear. Please try -to reason with—the sundry females about this house. . . . Tamea, I go -to my office. Be a good girl.” - -“You are my father and my mother,” she replied humbly. “I will kiss you -farewell.” And she did it. - -“This primitive young witch has been in this house less than twenty-four -hours and already she has kissed that defenseless man twice in my -presence. I have known Dan all my life—and I have kissed him but once,” -Maisie thought. - -The stab of resentment, of jealousy, perhaps, was more poignant this -time; in addition Maisie was just a little bit peeved at the ease with -which Tamea had achieved her victory. - -Maisie had sufficient imagination to understand why Tamea, daughter of a -thousand despots, with the instinct to rule complicated by the desire, -must be excused for precipitating the clash with Mrs. Pippy. But what -Maisie could also understand very clearly, since she too was a woman, -was that Tamea, by the grace of her sex and her shameless effrontery in -using every wile of that sex, was likely to become absolute master of -Dan Pritchard’s establishment. The man was helpless before her. Maisie -permitted a challenging gleam in the glance which she now bent upon -Tamea. - -Tamea intercepted that glance and interpreted it correctly. It was as if -Maisie had heliographed to her: “Young lady, you’ve got a fight on your -hands.” Without an instant’s hesitation Tamea’s smoky orbs acknowledged -the message and flashed back the reply: “Very well. I accept the -challenge.” - -Then Maisie smiled, and Tamea, with hot resentment in her heart, smiled -back. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - -Dan left his home with the alacrity of one who seeks escape from a most -uncomfortable situation. As a bachelor he was conscious of the fact that -this morning there had been four women too many in his life. He cringed -from the prospect of having Mrs. Pippy resign his service in a huff. He -hoped she would, under Maisie’s cogent reasoning, consent to make -allowances for Tamea until Maisie should have impressed upon the latter -the fact that in a white democracy a South Sea Island queen was expected -to be seen and not heard. - -“Tamea is such a child,” Dan told himself. “And a spoiled child at that. -Old Gaston has permitted her to do exactly as she pleased, and now the -task of correcting that mistake is mine. It isn’t going to be an easy -task, and what’s more I haven’t the slightest idea where to commence and -where to stop. . . . What fragrant hair she has. . . such an appealing -creature. When she weeps she’s just a broken-hearted little girl . . . -makes me want to take her on my knee and soothe her. . . . - -“Maisie’s nose went up a trifle the first time the child kissed me, and -there was steel in her voice when she reproved Tamea. Fine state of -affairs if she and Tamea fail to hit it off together and Tamea elects to -use me as a club to hurt Maisie. I have a feeling it would be like her -to try! Come to think of it, most women would! As soon as Tamea has -adjusted herself to her new life, I’ll pack her off to some select -school.” - -He picked up the annunciator and ordered Graves to halt alongside the -first newsstand he could find. Thus presently he found himself with half -a dozen magazines, skimming through their advertising pages in search of -some hint of the most advantageous school for girls of Tamea’s sort. -Preferably the school should be situated in the center of a boundless -prairie; as an additional safeguard, it should be surrounded by a very -tall barbed-wire fence or a cactus hedge and sans communication with the -outside world. - -By the time Graves had deposited him on the sidewalk before his office -building the problem of the right school was as far from solution as -ever, and a growing resentment against Gaston of the Beard was rising in -Dan’s heart. Down under the Southern Cross the problem of living was an -easy one. Why, then, had Gaston transplanted this girl to a land where -the problem was so complicated—where she was so certain to add to the -complications? - -“I feel tremendous events portending,” Dan soliloquized. “The very -foundations of my life are tottering.” - -On his desk he found a memorandum from his secretary to the effect that -he was to call Miss Morrison at his home the moment he came in. - -“Hello, Dan’l!” Maisie’s voice carried a triumphant note that cheered -him wonderfully. “I merely wanted to relieve your mind of your domestic -worries before you crossed swords with Uncle John. I have had a talk -with Mrs. Pippy and she will remain—for the present at least.” - -“I’ll raise her monthly stipend very materially,” he answered -gratefully. “Have you talked to Tamea?” - -“No, but I shall, Dan. I realize the precise proportions of the -predicament your generous acceptance of a white man’s burden has placed -you in. So, my dear, I dare say I shall have to stand at thy right hand -and hold the bridge with thee.” - -“God bless you for that, Maisie. I think Tamea is a wonderfully -affectionate girl—fiery, but generous, loyal and grateful, but hard to -handle. She must be appealed to through her heart rather than her head.” - -“You don’t know anything about it, Dan.” Maisie rather bit that sentence -off short. “That’s her plan for ruling you—via your soft heart and your -softer head. The girl Tamea has brains, she can reason and she can -understand, and the instant she realizes that your words of wisdom are -about to undermine her opposition to your desires, she will make a -flying leap for your manly breast——” - -“Do you really think she might develop such a habit?” - -“Dan, she’s a fully developed woman——” - -“Don’t build me a mare’s nest, Maisie. She’s just a little girl.” - -“Have it your way. But I warn you she’s the sort of little girl that a -respectable bachelor cannot afford to have around his house a day longer -than is quite necessary. That sounds catty, Dan, but I know whereof I -speak.” - -“Yes, I suppose I’ll have to do something radical and do it quickly,” he -agreed. “Thank you, Maisie—a million thanks.” - -“Happy to be of service to you, old boy.” - -“Maisie! Will you accord me another favor?” - -“Certainly. What is it?” - -“Consider yourself duly and affectionately kissed.” - -“Oh! Dan, you’re developing a habit. But don’t you think two kisses are -quite sufficient to start the day with?” - -“That was a little mean feminine jab, Maisie. Good-by. I’m going to hang -up.” - -He did, albeit smiling and much relieved. He could now turn to the task -of standing old John Casson on the latter’s snowy head, so to speak, and -see how much rice would run out of his pockets. - -Experience had taught Dan that the best way to handle his partner was to -rough him from the start, for, like all weak and pompous men, Casson was -not superabundantly endowed with courage or the ability to think fast -and clearly under fire. He would fight defensively but never -offensively, and Dan had discovered the great fundamental truth that the -offensive generally wins, the defensive never. - -He summoned his secretary. “Miss Mather, please inform Mr. Casson that I -desire to confer with him—in my office—immediately.” - -As he had anticipated, old Casson obeyed him without question. - -“Well, boy, what have you got on your mind this morning?” he began -genially. - -“Rice,” Dan answered curtly. “Sit down.” - -Casson walked to the window, looked out over the vista of bay and -commenced thinking as rapidly as he could under the circumstances. - -“I told you to sit down,” Dan reminded him crisply. “I mean it. Sit down -and face me. I want to look into your face and smoke the deception out -of it.” - -“By the gods of war, I’ll not stand such talk from any man!” Old Casson -had decided to bluster. - -Dan glowered at him. “You’ll stand it from me. You’ve got some rice -deals on in this crazy market and you’ve kept the news of your -operations from me. Have you speculated any in coffee or sugar?” - -“No, no, Dan. Nothing but rice.” - -“What sort of rice have you committed us to—California or Oriental?” - -“Both.” - -“Playing alone or in a pool?” - -“Alone.” - -“How much California rice have you purchased?” - -“One million sacks.” - -“Paid for any of it?” - -“Half of it. Balance in sixty days.” - -“Where is the rice?” - -“Scattered in various warehouses throughout the upper Sacramento -valley.” - -“I didn’t notice that our bank account had been particularly depleted -during the month I was in Hawaii. You bought the rice on open credit, -hypothecated the warehouse receipts with various banks, paid for half -the rice with the proceeds and used the remainder of the loan to pyramid -with. I suppose you sunk that in a little jag of Philippine rice.” - -“I did,” Casson admitted, flushed and anxious. He had seated himself, -facing Dan. - -“Holding your warehoused rice for a rising market, eh?” - -“Exactly.” - -“Suppose the bottom drops out?” - -Casson shrugged and for the first time smiled. “I think, Pritchard, -you’ll have to admit that I’ve put one over on you this time, and what’s -more, you’re going to like it. I bought that California rice at prices -ranging from nine and a quarter to ten and a half cents per pound, and -today it is worth twenty. We stand to clean up a hundred thousand -dollars on that lot alone.” - -“We are engaged in legitimate business, not food profiteering. Can you -dispose of that million sacks readily?” - -“Had an offer of twenty cents for it this morning.” - -“Reliable people?” - -“Rated up to five million, A-A-A-one.” - -“Cash?” - -“No, ninety days.” - -“Suspicious. Don’t like ninety-day paper. The banks are beginning to -discriminate in their loans. All over the country there has been a wide -expansion of credit in all lines, due to war-time prosperity, and my -guess is that the demand for credit will soon result in the usual -banking situation. The banks will discover that their loans have so -increased as to be out of proportion to their reserves and deposits; and -if the banks once get frightened, business will be crippled overnight.” - -“Pooh, no danger of that for a couple of years yet, Pritchard.” - -“On that subject I prefer sounder advice than yours, Mr. Casson. Call up -the people who want that rice and tell them we’re willing to cut our -price considerably if they will pay cash.” - -“Sorry, but it can’t be done, my boy. I’ve already traded on a -ninety-day basis. Don’t worry. We’re perfectly safe.” - -“With you, the wish is father to the thought. How much Oriental rice -have you bought?” - -“We’ve got the British steamer Malayan loading a cargo of eight thousand -tons in Manila, for Havana, Cuba. On or about the middle of next month -the steamer Chinook will load four thousand tons at Shanghai, for -delivery at Havana.” - -“Our specialty, of which we have a good, safe, working knowledge, is -South Sea products—mostly copra, and the operation of ships. The -shoemaker should stick to his last. Now, then, listen to my ultimatum. -If the sun sets today and leaves Casson and Pritchard the proprietors of -rice stored anywhere except in our respective kitchens, you and I are -going to dissolve partnership about an hour after the sun rises -tomorrow. And, whether you realize it or not, the moment our partnership -is dissolved, that moment you start tobogganing to ruin.” - -Casson rose and stretched himself carelessly. “Oh, well, boy,” he -replied, the patronizing quality of his words driving Dan into a silent -fury, “suppose we leave the crossing of our bridges until we come to -them.” - -Dan’s fist smashed down on his desk with a thud that caused old Casson -and the inkwell to jump simultaneously. “We’ll cross our bridges today,” -he roared, “and we’ll start now. Sit down, you consummate old jackass!” - -Casson trembled, paled and sat down very abruptly. “My dear Dan, control -yourself,” he stammered. - -“I’ll control myself, never fear. My chief job is controlling you. How -dare you commit me to ruin without consulting me?” - -“Ruin? Ridiculous! Only a fool would have neglected this golden -opportunity—and I’m the senior member of this firm and a sixty percent -owner in it.” Simulating righteous indignation, Casson too commenced to -pound Dan’s desk. - -“No bluffs!” Dan ordered, and took down the intercommunicating office -telephone. The chief clerk responded. “Bring to me immediately all of -the data pertaining to Mr. Casson’s rice operations,” he ordered. He -hung up and faced Casson. “That will be all, Mr. Casson. From this -moment you are out of the rice market and I’m in it. I’ll attend to the -marketing of more rice than this firm is worth.” - -“Pritchard, I forbid this!” - -“Very well.” Dan reached for his hat. “I’m going up to our banker and -tell him all about your rice deals. A business man should be as frank -with his banker as with his lawyer. You’ll get your orders from the man -higher up. If a loss threatens us, I prefer to have the blow fall now.” - -The battle was over. “Oh, have it your own way, my boy!” Casson cried -disgustedly and with a wave of his plump hand absolved himself from any -and all disasters that might overtake the firm. - -Half an hour later a well-known rice broker appeared in Dan’s office in -response to the latter’s telephoned request. - -“This firm,” Dan announced, “owns eight thousand tons of rice now -loading for Havana, in Manila. It owns four thousand tons due to be -loaded in thirty days at Shanghai. Is that rice quickly salable?” - -“How soon do you want it sold?” - -“Immediately.” - -“Can do—at a price.” - -“Do it!” Dan Pritchard commanded. “And if you can dig me up a cash -customer—at a cent or two under the market—I’ll pay you an extra -quarter of one per cent commission.” - -“Cash, eh? Well, that’s a bit doubtful. However, that extra commission -will make me work. I’ll report when I have something you can get your -teeth into.” - -“May I hope to hear from you today?” - -“Scarcely. The market’s a bit off—somewhat sluggish. Trading has been -pretty rapid of late, and the opinion prevails in some quarters that the -market has about reached the point of saturation.” - -“Many traders unloading?” - -“Oh, no! Everybody is still holding on for a further rise in price, -which I personally believe will come. We’re all optimists in the rice -market.” - -“Well, I’m a pessimist, but only because I do not care for rice. I have -never dealt in it before and I don’t know anything about the rice -market. Frankly, I’m closing out some trades of Mr. Casson’s under his -protest. My instructions to you are practically to throw Casson’s trades -overboard in order to get us out of the rice market.” - -The broker eyed him keenly. “No necessity for getting stampeded and -breaking the market,” he suggested. - -The remainder of that day Dan devoted to Tamea’s business. First he went -to the Appraisers’ Building and declared the pearls which Gaston had -smuggled in on the Moorea. Having paid the duty on them, he called on -the leading jewelers and had them appraised again, after which he added -ten per cent to the appraisal value and sold the entire lot to a -wholesale jeweler for cash. He reasoned, very wisely, that at the height -of a period of such prosperity as the country had not hitherto known, -the selected pearls of Gaston of the Beard would never bring a better -price. He then deposited all of her funds to the credit of “Daniel -Pritchard, guardian of Tamea Oluolu Larrieau, a minor,” in a number of -savings banks. He next called upon his attorney, who drew up, at his -request a formal petition to the Superior Court for letters of -guardianship for Tamea. - -Yes, Dan was a practical business man, a slave to the accepted forms. He -was taking his office as Tamea’s guardian so very seriously that his -position was analogous to that of the man who failed to see the woods -because of the trees. It did not occur to him that the administration of -an estate for a minor who knew nothing of the value of money and cared -less, who had never known discipline and who yielded instantly to every -elemental human desire and instinct, might be provocative of much -distress and loss of sleep to him. On the contrary, what he did do was -to return to his office hugely satisfied with the world as at that -moment constituted. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - -At four o’clock Dan telephoned his home and ascertained from Sooey Wan -that Tamea and Maisie had gone out together. - -He decided, therefore, to return to his office and look over the mail; -perchance he might find there some comforting light on the rice -situation. - -As he came into the general office his secretary called to him that Mr. -Mellenger was in his office, waiting to see him; that he had been -waiting there since one o’clock. - -Dan nodded comprehendingly and walked into the ambuscade. Mellenger was -seated in Dan’s chair. He had his feet up on the window sill and in his -left hand he held a cigar. - -“Well, old horse thief,” he murmured with lazy cordiality, “you’ve given -me quite a wait. Have you told the story to any other newspaper?” - -“What story, you fat parasite?” - -“Romantic skipper, leprosy, suicide, lovely half-caste daughter of royal -blood, to be adopted by well-known young business man of highest social -standing. Where is her photograph, and if no photo be available, where -is she?” He touched with his toe a camera on the floor beside him. -“Great story,” he continued. “Front page stuff. Got to give it a -spread.” - -“I could spread your nose for news all over your impudent countenance,” -Dan retorted irritably. “There must be no publicity on this matter, -Mel!” - -“Got to be, my son. The doctor of the public health service who examined -your shipmaster yesterday boarded the Moorea this morning to remove the -man to quarantine, and was informed by the mate that the leprous one had -gone over the rail and failed to come up. That doctor suspects Larrieau -has escaped—and you know they can’t afford to have a leper running -around on the loose. All the water front reporters have part of the -story from the doctor and part from old Casson and they’re satisfied -with that, but I’m here to get the facts.” - -“I understand you’ve been here since one o’clock.” - -Mellenger nodded. “My day off, Dan, but the city editor knew how close -you and I have always been, so he called me up at my hotel and asked me -to get the story.” - -“Call him up and tell him that I decline to be interviewed.” - -“Sorry, but I must interview you. I’ve already interviewed by telephone -old Casson, Miss Morrison, Mrs. Pippy, Julia, Sooey Wan and Graves. The -crew of the Moorea I have seen personally. I’ve got a crackerjack story -but I want a better one. Sooey Wan said he thought you’d marry the queen -about a week from tomorrow.” - -“That Chink is absolutely out of control.” - -“You leave him alone. He’s a friend of mine. And you’ll be interviewed!” -He puffed at his cigar and looked sorrowfully out over the roofs of the -city. “Only one way to handle a newspaper man,” he ruminated. “Receive -him, ignore him or kill him. Ah, to be rich and beloved by a queen—to -dwell in marble halls, with vassals and serfs rendering snappy service!” - -“Mel, don’t be an ass. Don’t insist upon injecting a romantic note into -this story.” - -“Sooey Wan says he’ll back her against the field at a hundred to one, -and any time Sooey has a celestial hunch I’ll play it.” - -“Mel, you shouldn’t discuss my private affairs with my servants——” - -The knight of the pad and pencil waved him into silence. “Sooey Wan -isn’t a servant, Dan. He’s an institution who accepts a hundred and -fifty dollars a month from you just to please you and perpetuate the -institution. Why shouldn’t the old idol discuss you with me? Haven’t I -been dining at your house every Thursday night for ten years? Sooey Wan -knows I think almost as much of you as he does. Come, I’m listening.” - -In five minutes the tale was told. - -“Her photograph,” Mellenger insisted. - -“You cannot have it.” - -“One of the crew—by name Kahanaha—found this one for me in the late -skipper’s desk,” the imperturbable Mellenger informed him, and produced -a photograph of Tamea, hibiscus-crowned, barefooted, garbed in a dotted -calico Mother Hubbard. - -“Hideous as death,” Dan growled and snatched at it. - -But Mellenger whisked it away. “It is, as you say, hideous, but if no -other photograph is available we shall be forced regretfully to use it. -Woodley, of the Chronicle, has one like it, but I know I can prevail -upon him to hand it back for something more recent and not so colorful.” - -“He shall have it.” - -“You understood I couldn’t permit Woodley to scoop me on the -photograph.” - -There was a knock at the door and Miss Mather entered. “Miss Morrison -and Miss Larrieau are in the general office, asking to see you, Mr. -Pritchard.” - -“God is good and the devil not half bad,” murmured Mellenger and picked -up his camera. “Certainly, Miss Mather. Admit the ladies, by all means.” - -To Dan he said: “I’ve always wished I might live to see a queen enter a -room. Tall, stately, majestic, coldly beautiful, they sweep through the -door with a long undulating stride—Judas priest!” - -“_Chéri!_ Look at me, Dan.” From the door, violently flung open, Tamea’s -golden voice challenged his admiration. For one breathless instant she -stood, alert, seemingly poised for flight, a glorious creature -gloriously garbed, her arms held toward him, beseeching his approval; -the next she was rushing to him, to fling those arms around his neck and -implant a chaste salute upon each cheek. - -She thrust him from her, ignored Mellenger and struck a pose. - -“There, dear one,” she pleaded, “is your Tamea, then, so much uglier -than the women of your own race?” - -“You are perfectly glorious, Tamea.” - -“As the aurora borealis,” Mellenger spoke up. - -Tamea, seemingly not aware of his presence until now, turned upon him -eyes which frankly sought a confirmation of the enthusiasm and pride she -read in Dan’s. “You like me, too?” - -“Queen, you’re adorable.” - -He glanced past her to Maisie Morrison, standing, flushed and faintly -smiling, in the doorway. Maisie was gazing with an eager intensity at -Dan Pritchard, who saw her not. Mellenger twitched the tail of Dan’s -coat, and the latter, as if summoned out of a trance, turned and gazed -at him inquiringly. - -“Introduce me, fool, introduce me!” Mellenger suggested, and Dan -complied. - -Maisie acknowledged the introduction with a cordial nod and a weary -little smile, but Tamea thrust out her long, beautiful hand. “How do you -do, Mr. Mel. How are all your people? Very well, I hope.” She swung -around to give him a view of her from the back. - -“Marvelous,” he declared. “Your Majesty is so beautiful I must make a -picture of you at once.” - -With the adroitness of his profession he set his camera up on the -telephone stand, posed Tamea where the late afternoon sun shone through -the window and photographed her half a dozen times; then, with a promise -to Tamea to send her prints, he bowed himself out to have the films -developed and write his story. - -Dan in the meantime had provided seats for both his visitors. - -“So that’s Mark Mellenger,” said Maisie. “I wish he had stayed longer. I -have a curiosity to know anybody who loves you, Dan.” - -“Old Mel is the salt of the earth,” he declared warmly. “When we were in -college together he was editor of the college daily and I was by way of -being a cartoonist. In those days we were the heroes of the campus, and -thoughtless enthusiasts used to predict for each of us the prompt -acquisition of a niche in the Hall of Fame. Mel was to write the great -American novel and I was to create riots among millionaires anxious to -buy my pictures.” He shrugged ruefully, nor did he note Maisie’s wistful -smile as he turned to the radiant Tamea. “I’ll paint you, you tropical -goddess,” he soliloquized audibly. “You’ve had a fine time in the shops -today, eh, my dear?” - -“It was very wonderful, Dan Pritchard.” - -Dan turned to Maisie. “You’re so good and kind, Maisie, and your taste -is always so exquisite. In this instance it is more than exquisite. It -is exotic.” - -“I cannot claim credit for it, Dan. All I did was bring Tamea to the -best shops. What she is wearing is entirely of her own selection.” - -“But, Maisie, how could she?” - -“You forget that Tamea is half French. She has been born with a positive -genius for artistic adornment.” - -He and Tamea exchanged approving smiles. “And is our Tamea an -extravagant girl?” he queried. - -“Tamea,” said Maisie bluntly, “would bankrupt Midas.” - -“For money,” quoth Tamea, “I care not that much!” She snapped her -fingers. “But why should I love money? Is money not to be used to make -men happy and women beautiful in the eyes of their men, that they may -hold them against other women?” - -“I suppressed your ward’s spending frenzy as well as I could, Dan, but -nevertheless we spent nearly two thousand dollars.” - -Dan came close to Maisie. He had noticed for the first time how tired -she looked; in her weariness he detected a wistfulness and a repression -that told him Maisie’s patience had been sorely tried. “I suspect your -work today has required all that you had of fortitude and courage, -Maisie.” He pinched her pale cheek and then patted the spot he had -pinched. “You’re a great comfort to me, Maisie.” - -“Well, that helps, Dan. I think if Tamea had not been permitted to dash -home with her purchases, array herself in fine raiment and return here -to dazzle you, the day would have been quite spoiled for her. The -excitement has been good for her, I think. She has not had time to -grieve for her father.” - -“My father dwells happily in Paliuli with my mother. I will not grieve -for him again. I will live now to be happy.” - -“And make others happy, too, dear?” Maisie suggested. - -“_Certainement!_ But first I must know others and learn how to make them -happy.” - -“We will be patient and teach you, Tamea. By the way, Dan, it’s time to -close down your desk, isn’t it? I’ll leave Tamea to you now until you -need me again.” - -She gave him her hand and he noticed it was very cold. - -“Poor old dear,” he whispered as he escorted her into the hall. “I’ve an -idea you’ve had the very devil of a day.” - -“Naturally. I went shopping with an imp, didn’t I?” - -He raised his extra high eyebrow a trifle higher. “Is she very hard to -manage?” - -“She is.” - -“Any hope at all?” - -“I’m afraid I’m not a fair judge, Dan. Every little while she grows -impulsively angelic. She doesn’t like me a bit, yet today, after my maid -Céleste had come over and done the imp’s hair, Tamea assured me I was -very sweet and kissed me. She has a perfect passion for having her own -way.” - -“I’ll have to be firm with her, Maisie.” - -“Don’t be humorous, Dan. In her hands you are as clay.” - -“Nonsense! She’s just a simple child of nature. With tactful -handling——” - -Maisie was suddenly furious. “Oh, you’re such a helpless, lovable booby! -You are the one man in this world whom Providence has selected as the -rightful receiver of gold bricks. Why did you take on this frightful -responsibility? Wouldn’t it have been far simpler and less expensive to -have urged upon her father the wisdom of sending her back to her -outlandish island to queen it over the cannibals instead of——” - -“Instead of whom, Maisie?” - -“Instead of setting your little world by the ears? You just cannot begin -to imagine the terrific time I had inducing Mrs. Pippy to remain.” - -“Deuce take Mrs. Pippy!” he protested. “She ought to thank her lucky -stars for the chance to remain. The first time she met Tamea she looked -down her nose at the child——” - -“What you do not seem to comprehend, Dan, is that Tamea is _not_ a -child.” - -“Well, Maisie, all I’ve got to say is that whether Tamea be a child or a -woman, an imp or an angel, I promised her father I’d look after her, and -I’m going to do it. If she refuses to be directed, if she declines to be -obedient, I’ll——” - -“Yes, you’ll——” - -“You do not like her, Maisie?” - -“Oh, I do not dislike her. She merely startles me. She is such a flashy, -exotic, alien sort of person, voicing whatever thoughts pop into her -head, and with the most extraordinary ideas and outlook on life. She -told me all about an Englishman in Riva who was madly in love with her. -He was a drunken profligate, and she would have none of him because he -was dull and stupid, not because he was such an out-and-out scoundrel. -She speaks of sinful people as impersonally as we would of some -unfortunate who has measles or tuberculosis.” He laughed. “I suppose you -realize, Dan, that to keep Tamea in your home hereafter will be to -invite gossip and criticism from those who do not know you so well as we -do.” - -“But what shall I do with the girl?” - -“Send her to a hotel or a convent,” was Maisie’s suggestion. - -“Very well, Maisie. You spoke of a convent. That’s a splendid idea. A -convent’s the very place for Tamea. I wonder where I might find a good -one.” - -Maisie brightened perceptibly. “I’ll look one up for you.” - -She gave him her hand and he pressed it tenderly. “You’re mighty sweet,” -he murmured. “I do appreciate you tremendously. Good night, dear.” - -Instantly there was in her face a flash of the Maisie of yesterday, the -light he had seen there when he kissed her. “Good night, booby,” she -whispered. “Think of me once in a while.” - -“I think of you more frequently than that.” - -“I’m glad.” - -“You nuisance! You interfere with my conduct of business.” - -“I rejoice in my mendacity. You might walk to the elevator with me, -Dan.” - -He did, and they talked there five minutes longer before Maisie finally -left him. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - -Meanwhile, back in Dan’s office, the childishly curious Tamea had -started a critical inspection of the room. She looked in the wash -closet, turned on the water, inspected the books in the bookcase and the -model of a clipper ship on top of it, and presently discovered on the -side of Dan’s desk a row of push buttons. She touched one of these and -almost immediately Dan’s secretary, Miss Mather, entered the office. She -glanced around and failing to see Pritchard, she said: - -“You called me?” - -Tamea shook her head and Miss Mather excused herself and retired. -Instantly Tamea pressed another button, and to her amazement a youth of -about sixteen summers entered, gazed around the room and said: - -“Yes’m. Whadja want? Me?” - -Tamea solemnly shook her head and the youth departed, mystified, leaving -her with a delightful sense of occult power. She tried another button, -and some thirty seconds later a bald-headed man, the chief clerk, -entered very deferentially. - -“Ha! ha!” Tamea laughed. “Nothing doing, Monsieur, nothing, I assure.” - -The chief clerk retired, registering amazement, and Tamea adventured -with the fourth button, this time without result. So she turned her -attention to the telephone switch box and commenced pressing buttons and -ringing bells all over the suite of Casson and Pritchard, with the -result that everybody was trying to answer his telephone at once. -Impelled by curiosity, Tamea picked up the receiver just in time to hear -a tiny voice say very distinctly: “Hello! Hello! Casson speaking.” - -With a shriek she dropped the receiver. Here, indeed, was magic. -Trembling and white, she pressed all four push buttons in succession, -and again Miss Mather entered. - -“It speaks,” Tamea gasped. “There are devils in this house. _Regardez!_” - -Miss Mather saw the dangling telephone receiver and replaced it on the -hook. “It is silent now. The devil is dumb,” she assured Tamea. “Have -you never seen a telephone before?” - -“But no, never. And I press here—and here—and servants come without a -summons. This is proof that Monsieur Dan Pritchard is indeed a great -chief.” - -“He is a very kind chief, at any rate. We all love him here.” - -Tamea stared at Miss Mather disapprovingly. “I have heard that he is -much beloved by women.” She frowned. “You may go,” she decreed. - -Miss Mather, highly amused, retired. At the door she found the office -boy, the chief clerk and Dan Pritchard about to enter, and explained to -them the reason for the excitement. Dan entered, chuckling. - -“You laugh!” Tamea challenged him haughtily. - -“Yes, and I laugh at you.” - -“Is that—what shall I say—very nice, very polite?” - -“No, but I can’t help it. However, I’ll be fair with you, Tamea. You may -laugh at me whenever you desire.” - -“I shall never desire to laugh at you, Dan.” - -“Forgive me, my dear.” He got his hat and overcoat from the closet. “We -will go home now, Tamea.” - -She took hold of his hand and walked with him thus out through the -general office and down the hall. He was slightly embarrassed and wished -that she would let go his hand, but he dared not suggest it. During the -swift drop in the elevator Tamea gasped, quivered and clung tightly to -his arm. When the car reached the lobby and the passengers made their -exit, the girl retreated into the corner and dragged Dan with her. - -“We get out here, Tamea.” - -“I know, dear one. But I like this. It is a longer and swifter fall than -when the stern of a schooner drops down a heavy sea. I would rise once -more.” - -“Oh, come, Tamea! This is nonsense. One does not ride in an elevator -unless one has to.” - -“Is a second ride, then, forbidden by this man?” She indicated the -elevator operator. - -“No, you may ride up and down all day if you desire. But it’s so silly, -Tamea.” - -“In this country men fear they may be thought foolish. But you are a -brave man. You will not deny your Tamea this simple pleasure.” He -frowned. “Very well. I obey.” - -Tamea started for the door; but Dan pressed her back into the corner -again; the elevator operator favored him with a knowing grin and the car -shot upward without a pause to the fifteenth floor. . . . - -When they were settled in the limousine the girl reached again for his -hand and possessed herself of it. “I think I shall be very happy with -you,” she confided. - -He reflected that Tamea would always be happy if given free rein to her -desires. Aloud he said: “Tamea, it is my duty to make you happy.” - -Gratefully she cuddled his hand to her cheek and implanted upon it a -fervent kiss. - -“Of course,” she agreed. “_Certainement._” - -They rolled out Market Street through the heavy evening traffic, and -presently were climbing to the crest of Twin Peaks. As the car swept -around the last curve and gave a view of the city from the Potrero to -the Cliff House snuggled below them, Tamea gasped. A little wisp of fog -was creeping in the Golden Gate, but the light, still lingering although -the sun had almost set, clothed the city in an amethyst haze that -softened its ugly architecture and made of it a thing of superlative -beauty. The sweep of blue bay, the islands and the shipping, the -departing light heliographed from the western windows of homes on the -Alameda County shore, the high green hills on the eastern horizon, all -combined to make a picture so impressively beautiful that Tamea, born -with the appreciation of beauty so distinct a characteristic of her -mother’s race, sighed with the shock of it. Graves had stopped the car -and the girl gazed her fill in silence. - -“I wanted to bring you up here and prove to you that ours is not an ugly -land, although not so beautiful perhaps as Riva,” Dan explained. - -Then they swept down the western slope of Twin Peaks, up the Great -Highway along the Pacific shore and home through Golden Gate Park. As -was his custom, Dan opened the front door with his latchkey and he and -Tamea stepped into the hall. - -“You have an hour in which to dress for dinner, child,” he told her. -“Ring for Julia. She will help you.” - -The girl came close to him, drew his head down on her shoulder and -pressed her lips to his ear. - -“Yesterday,” she whispered, “was a day of sorrow. It did not seem that I -could bear it. But today has been so joyous I have almost forgotten my -sorrow; in a week it will be quite gone. To you I am indebted for this -great happiness.” - -She kissed him rapturously, first on one cheek, then on the other, and -Dan reflected that this Gallic form of osculation had evidently been -learned from old Gaston of the Beard. How warm and soft her lips were, -how fragrant her breath and hair! In the dim light of the hall her -marvelous eyes beamed up at him with a light that suddenly set his pulse -to pounding wildly. A tremor ran through him. - -“You tremble, dear one,” the girl whispered. “You are cold! Ah, but my -love shall warm,” and she lifted her lips to his. - -She was Circe, born again. Decidedly, here was dangerous ground. He was -far too intelligent not to realize the complication that might ensue -should he yield to this sudden gust of desire, this strange new yearning -never felt before, this impulse for possession without passion, that -shook his very soul. He told himself he must continue to play a part, to -decline to take her otherwise than paternally, to evade, at all hazard, -the pitfall yawning before him. - -“It is not well to think too long or too hard,” Tamea whispered. “Your -people count the costs, but mine do not.” - -Apparently the amazing creature knew of what he was thinking! He was -cornered, he would have to escape and that quickly. “I was just -thinking, Tamea, that my house will be lonely after your bright -presence,” he said, a trifle unsteadily. - -She gasped. “You plan to send me from you, Dan Pritchard?” - -“Temporarily, my dear. In spring the climate of this part of California -is too cold and raw for you. Tomorrow you and Julia and Mrs. Pippy will -go in the car to Del Monte, where it is more like your own country. -After you have been there a month and have grown accustomed to our ways, -you will go to a convent to be educated.” - -She stood with her hands on his shoulders, pondering this. Then: “This -is your desire?” - -“Yes.” - -She looked into the very soul of him. “I do not believe that,” she -declared and looked up at him so wistfully that his reason tottered on -its throne and fell, crashing, into the valley of his desire. He crushed -her to him and their lips met. . . . - -Out of the semi-darkness a familiar voice spoke. “Captain’s girl velly -nice. What Sooey Wan tell you, boss? Now you ketchum heap savvy.” - -Dan Pritchard fled upstairs, leaving the triumphant Tamea to follow at -her leisure. “Fool, fool!” The voice of conscience beat in his brain. - -“That wasn’t kind of me. . . no, not even sensible. . . . I’ve spoiled, -everything. . . Maisie. . . . Why wasn’t I man enough to be strong?. . . -Gaston entrusted her to me and I’ve failed. . . .” - -As he reached the door of his room Tamea’s voice floated up the -stairway. She was singing a pæan of triumph, and she sang it in her -mother tongue. Ah, youth and love and golden dreams! In Tamea’s heart -there was no longer room for sorrow, in her primitive but wonderfully -acute intelligence there was no room for disturbing reflections touching -the whys and wherefores which, in Dan Pritchard’s world, were -concomitant with all decisions and made the wisdom of all issues -doubtful. - -“She is exotic—overpowering, like a seductive perfume. She appeals -profoundly, in her solitary state, to my sympathy; her beauty, her -vitality, her unspoiled and innocent outlook, the impulsiveness and -naturalness of her desire, in which, from her viewpoint, there is -nothing to criticize, all conspire to drive me into the very situation I -would avoid because I know it to be ruinous. ‘East is East and West is -West and never the twain shall meet.’ Kipling knew. When they do meet it -is only an illusion of meeting, and the illusion fades. And yet, from -the moment that girl first gazed upon me, Maisie has been receding -farther and farther from my conscious mind. An incredibly bad compliment -to Maisie, and the deuce of it is I think that, subconsciously, Maisie -realizes this. What a cad I have been!” - -Julia knocked at his door. “Miss Morrison on the ’phone, sir.” - -He went into the hall and took down the receiver. “Yes, Maisie.” - -“Dan, dear,” Maisie replied, almost breathlessly, “would you think me -very forward if I were to invite myself to dinner at your house -tonight?” - -“Indeed I would not! As a matter of fact, Maisie, I very much desire -your presence at dinner tonight. I wasn’t quite aware of this desire -until you spoke, but I think that in about five minutes the same bright -idea would have occurred to me.” - -“Uncle John came home in an ill humor. Scolded me all the way up and -complained to me about you, and of course that put me in a bad -temper——” - -“Why have your dinner spoiled by being forced to sit and listen to your -avuncular relative rave? Shall I send my car for you?” - -“Do, please!” A silence. Then: “You’re quite sure you would have -telephoned and invited me to dinner if I had not telephoned and invited -myself?” - -“Positive, Maisie. I’m at a loose end. I need your moral support. My -duties as a foster father——” - -“I understand. I thought too, Dan, it might relieve you of your -embarrassment if the school or convent question could be settled -tonight. I’ve been doing some thinking and am prepared to submit a -plan.” - -“Good news! Graves will call for you at seven o’clock. And by the way, -my oldest and dearest man friend, Mark Mellenger, is coming. You met him -in the office this afternoon.” - -“Good! Is he interesting, Dan?” - -“The Lord made but one Mellenger and then the plates were destroyed. He -dines with me every Thursday night he is in town. He’s a newspaper man -and Thursday is his day off. He celebrates it with me. Women have never -appeared to interest Mel, and I’m looking forward to watching the effect -on him of two extremes in interesting and charming women.” - -“So Tamea has grown up—so soon,” Maisie challenged. Then she added, -while he searched his puzzled mind for an answer: “Thank you so much for -asking me over, Dan. Until a quarter past seven, then. Good-by, booby!” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - -When Dan came downstairs he found Mark Mellenger seated before the fire -in the living room. Sooey Wan stood before him, vigorously shaking a -cocktail mixer and discussing volubly with the newspaper man some inside -facts concerning the latest tong war in Chinatown. - -“Hello, here come boss. Hello, boss. How my boy tonight, eh? Velly -happy, eh?” Thus Sooey Wan, his idol face wreathed in a smile that -indicated his entire satisfaction with the world as at that moment -constituted. Dan glared at him, for he knew the thought uppermost in -that curious Oriental mind; Sooey Wan assimilated the hint but continued -to grin and giggle. Mellenger stood up. - -“I drink success to your administration of your new job,” he said. - -“It’s a perfectly horrible job, Mel, and nothing but woe can come out of -it. Keeping pace with Tamea is a real chore.” - -“Would that the gods had favored me with her father’s faith and -friendship. Dan, that girl is as glorious as a tropical sunset.” - -“I thought something had happened to you, Mel. So you’re a casualty, eh? -And in the name of the late Jehoshaphat, what do you mean by coming to -my house in dinner clothes? I have never suspected you of owning dinner -clothes.” - -“I am a very easy man to fit in ready-made clothing,” his guest replied. -“I bought these after leaving your office tonight. Made up my mind you’d -be dining more or less formally.” - -“But my dear Mel, you might have known Tamea would not have considered -you _de trop_ if you had appeared for dinner in a suit of striped -pajamas.” - -“No, but Miss Morrison would.” - -“What sorcery is this? I did not invite her until twenty minutes ago.” - -Mellenger drank his cocktail slowly and thoughtfully and held out his -glass for Sooey Wan’s further attention. - -“I am not one of those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear -not. I’m a fairly good judge of human nature, and I always judge the -characters of men and women—particularly women—the moment the sample -is submitted. Which reminds me that for the first time I suspect you of -a failure to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” - -“That’s a definite charge. State your specification.” - -Mellenger’s somewhat heavy, impassive face lighted humorously. “Now, -didn’t Miss Morrison invite herself?” he challenged. - -Dan’s mouth flew open in amazement. “Yes. How did you know?” - -Mellenger sat down and gazed owlishly at the fire before replying: “I -had a suspicion, amounting to a moral certainty, that she would. -Usually, as you know, I am a careless fellow. I snatch quick meals in -cheap restaurants and I work like a dog. Hence my one day of rest is -devoted to rest, meditation and observation. Observation and subsequent -meditation convinced me that Miss Morrison would be a guest here -tonight.” - -“Remarkable man!” - -“I had never had the privilege of meeting Miss Morrison before this -afternoon,” Mellenger continued. “A very striking, intelligent, splendid -looking girl. She has brains and wit.” - -“How do you know? She spoke four-words to you—‘How do you do?’” - -“She has eyes. Why have you delayed marrying her? You’re a bit of a -dodo, Dan.” - -“How do I know she’d marry me, Mel?” - -“Because you do not know constitutes the basis for my charge that you’re -a bit of a dodo. Anybody else would know.” He looked up at Dan suddenly, -his gray, deep-set eyes very earnest under shaggy brows. “Are you aware -that this very excellent young woman is deeply in love with you?” - -“No, I’m not.” - -Mellenger sighed. “Have you ever suspected she might be?” - -“That sounds presumptuous, Mel. Of course, once in a while——” - -“You have suspected it but have banished the suspicion. . . . You’re -very comfortable here; you’re rich and getting richer; you have a -yearning to chuck business one day and woo art.” He stared again at the -fire and sipped at his cocktail. “The victim of a suppressed artistic -desire is loath to give hostages to fortune in the way of a wife and -children. Good Lord, I’ve written a trunkful of short stories and novels -that haven’t sold; I have never been satisfied with one of them, and -until I am satisfied I have planned to remain single and live in a -hotel. . . . Everybody in town in your set knows how Maisie Morrison -feels toward you. Your indifference constitutes a choice topic of -conversation among the tea tabbies.” - -“You are a mine of information, Mel.” - -“I get it from our society editor. She knows all the gossip.” - -“Oh!” - -“Ever consider marrying Miss Morrison, Dan?” - -“Yes, I have.” - -“He who hesitates is lost, my friend.” - -Dan’s face had suddenly gone haggard. “I must not hesitate,” he -murmured, “or I may be lost.” - -“Yes,” Mellenger agreed coolly, “only in this case suppose we substitute -for the word _may_ the word _shall_.” - -“Tamea?” asked Dan. - -Mellenger nodded. “She is exotic, marvelous, irresistible—just the sort -of woman to sweep an idealistic ass like you off his feet—into the -abyss. Maisie Morrison knows that, and Tamea, young as she is, knows -that Maisie Morrison knows it. This afternoon in your office your ward -favored you with an impulsive, childish hug and kiss. That was a stab to -the other girl. They exchanged swift glances. There was challenge in -Maisie’s and triumph and purpose in Tamea’s.” - -“This is perfectly horrible, Mel.” - -“We-l-l, at any rate it’s inconvenient and embarrassing. It would be -horrible for Maisie to have to come to a realization that this -half-caste islander had won you away from her—and it would be very -horrible for you to arrive at the same realization after it was too -late.” - -“But I entertain no such crazy intention.” - -“You don’t know what intentions you _may_ entertain. You may never truly -fall in love with Tamea, but—you may become infatuated with her. She -has a singularly potent lure for men—men who love beauty and fire and -vitality—men who feel mentally crowded by a mediocre world. I have -known such men, when infatuated, to sacrifice everything they valued in -life for the transient favor of women who did not assay very highly in -mental or moral values. As a matter of fact, my boy, you are infatuated -with Tamea already.” - -“How do you know?” - -“I do not know how or why I know. I just know it, and now I am sure I -know it. Forget it, Dan.” - -Pritchard’s head sunk on his chest in the thoughtful, half sad posture -that Maisie termed the Abraham Lincoln look. He sighed and said -presently, “What should I do about it, Mel?” - -“Get this girl out of your life at once and marry Maisie Morrison as -soon as you can procure a license.” - -“I think that’s very sound advice, Mel.” - -“I think so, too.” - -Mellenger drifted over to the piano and commenced playing very softly; -the words of the song he played rang in Dan Pritchard’s mind with -something of the sad poignancy of the distant tolling of church bells: - - Tow-see mon-ga-lay, my dear, - You’ll leave me some day, I fear, - Sailing home across the sea - To blue-eyed girl in Melikee. - If you stay, I love you true, - If you leave me—no can do! - Me no cry, me only say - Tow-see mon-ga-lay. - -“Yes”—Mellenger resumed the train of his thoughts—“my advice is -eminently sound—but you’ll not follow it.” The doorbell rang. “There’s -Maisie Morrison now, Dan.” - -“I shall ask her this very night to marry me, Mel.” - -“I think not, old-timer.” - -“You are a very wise man, Monsieur Mel.” - -Tamea spoke from the doorway and Dan, looking up startled, beheld her -standing there, a thing of beauty, dazzling, glorious, shimmering, in a -dinner gown of old rose that displayed her matchless figure to -bewildering perfection. Her eyes, not flashing but softly luminous, were -bent upon Dan Pritchard a little bit sadly, a little bit puzzled. - -“I have been a stranger here, _chéri_,” she said very distinctly, “but -you have looked with favor upon your Tamea, Dan Pritchard—and we are -strangers to each other no longer. You are my man. I love you, and -though I die this Maisie shall not possess that which I love.” - -She crossed swiftly to Dan’s side; as he sought to rise she drew him -down in his chair again and pressed his head back to meet her glance as -she bent over him, her arms around his neck. A silence, while she -searched the soul of him. Then: “You do love your Tamea?” - -Dan Pritchard murmured, “I don’t know, Tamea.” - -“_Je t’adore!_” She patted his cheek. “I have no wish to hurt this -Maisie,” she informed him and with a glance included Mellenger in the -confidence, “but that which I have, I hold.” - -“Exactly,” said Mellenger and commenced to play again, softly and with -devilish humor: - - The bells of hell go ting-a-ling, - For you and not for me . . . - -Dan sprang up and brushed Tamea aside as Julia appeared in the doorway. - -“Miss Morrison,” she announced. - -As Maisie entered Mark Mellenger’s heart almost skipped a beat. “She has -accepted the challenge. Zounds! What a woman!” he thought, and stared at -her in vast admiration as she advanced to meet Dan and carelessly gave -him her hand—to kiss! As Dan bent his white face over it Tamea’s voice -shattered the silence. - -“I think, Maisie, perhaps you should know that Dan Pritchard belongs to -me. I love him and he is mine.” - -Maisie’s smile was tolerant, humorous, maddening; it was apparent to the -watching Mellenger that she had anticipated some such open, direct -attack and had schooled herself to meet it. - -“Indeed, Tamea, my dear!” she drawled. “Has Mr. Pritchard, then, given -himself to you so soon?” - -“No,” Tamea replied honestly, “he has not. But—he will.” - -“How interesting!” She turned to Dan. “Dan, old boy, since it is your -mission in life to make Tamea happy, permit me to give you to her. Here -he is, Tamea, you greedy girl.” She chuckled adorably, gave Dan a little -shove toward Tamea and crossed to the piano where Mellenger stood, grave -and embarrassed. She gave him her hand in friendly fashion. - -“Clever, clever woman,” he breathed, for her ear alone. - -“How adorably primitive she is, Mr. Mellenger!” - -He nodded. “Between the two of us, however,” he answered, still in low -voice, “we’ll fix the young lady’s clock.” - -The mask fell from Maisie’s face and Mellenger saw in it naught but pain -and terror. - -And then Julia announced dinner. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - -Many arduous and adventurous years in the Fourth Estate had sharpened -Mark Mellenger’s native ability to think and act quickly in an -emergency. He saw that Tamea’s bold onslaught for the love rights in his -friend had disturbed Pritchard greatly; the latter’s face was rosy with -an embarrassment that was all the more poignant because nothing that Dan -could do or say would relieve the situation; Maisie had apparently -exhausted her ammunition and would, unless supported promptly, retire -from the field. Weeping, doubtless. Something had to be done, and in -this emergency anything would be better than nothing. - -Mellenger strolled up to Tamea and offered her his arm to take her in to -dinner. But Tamea only smiled at him the tender, tolerant smile which, -apparently, she had for all men, and said in a low voice: “Thank you, -Monsieur Mellengair, but I will take the arm of Dan Pritchard.” - -“Oh, but you must not do that!” Mellenger protested confidentially and -addressing her in excellent French. “You are a member of this household, -while Miss Morrison is a guest here tonight. If Mr. Pritchard were to -permit her to go in to dinner on my arm, that would be equivalent to -informing her that she was not welcome in his home. It would be a very -great discourtesy—in this country,” he added parenthetically. - -“Oh! I did not understand that. Nobody has told me these things. I would -not care to embarrass anyone.” - -“Thank you, Miss Larrieau. You are very kind and considerate.” He bowed -to her with great courtesy, and she accepted his arm. - -“I like you, Mellengair—no, I will call you Mel, like Dan who loves -you.” - -“That’s better.” - -“And you shall call me Tamea.” - -“Thank you. I think that is better, too.” - -She came closer to him. “And you will tell me—things?” - -“You mean the things you should know in order to avoid embarrassment to -yourself—and others?” - -“_Oui_, Mel.” - -“There is not a great deal that you will have to be told, Tamea. Merely -an outline of the principal customs of this country which differ so -radically from yours. For instance, just now you made a very sad -mistake—oh, very, very sad!” - -“But no!” the girl protested. - -“But yes! You were very discourteous to Miss Morrison.” - -“About Dan?” - -“Yes.” - -“But that is the truth.” - -“It is not always necessary to tell the truth. You have assumed that -Miss Morrison is in love with Dan.” - -“She is, Mel. I know.” - -“But he does not know this, and she would not tell him for all the -wealth of the world.” - -“Such a stupid! Why not?” - -“It is the custom of the land,” he assured her. - -“Then I must not tell Dan Pritchard I love him?” - -“Not unless he tells you first that he loves you.” She laughed softly -but scornfully. “Has he told you that he loves you?” - -“With his eyes—yes.” - -“Eyes are not admissible as evidence. What you mistook for love may be -admiration. Until he speaks with his tongue you must remain silent, else -will you be dishonored.” - -They had reached the dining room. Maisie and Dan were following, in -frozen silence. Mellenger tucked her chair in under Tamea, and over her -head he winked at Maisie and Dan. There was a terrifying silence until -after Julia had served the soup. Then Tamea spoke. - -“It appears,” she said very contritely, “that I have been stupid and of -gross manners. I have offended you, Maisie, and to you, dear Dan, I am -as a dishonored woman. I am truly sorry. Will you both forgive, please?” - -“You poor, bewildered dear,” said Maisie, and laughed. To Mellenger’s -amazement the laugh held real humor. She got up, walked around the table -to Tamea’s side and kissed her. “Of course you are forgiven. You did not -understand. How could you know, Tamea, that Dan and I are to be married? -Nobody told you, I dare say. Dan, darling, did you tell Tamea of our -engagement?” - -“Of course, I didn’t,” he began. He was at once amazed, indignant and -profoundly complimented. “Why, Maisie——” - -“Shut up, fool!” Mellenger’s lips formed the words without speaking -them. “Do you want to spill the beans?” - -Maisie returned to her seat, flushed, bright-eyed, distinctly -triumphant, and Mellenger realized that, between himself and Maisie, -poor Tamea had been thoroughly crushed, humiliated beyond words. She -contented herself with looking at Dan very curiously, as if she were -seeing him for the first time. - -“Now,” Mellenger remarked dryly, “I think we’ll all feel equal to -imbibing a modicum of soup. Maisie—pardon my effrontery in calling you -by your first name on such brief acquaintance, but then those who love -Dan always inspire me with a desire to know them better and act as if I -had known them always—how long have you and Dan been engaged?” - -Dan glared at him. Maisie, scenting the deviltry behind his query, liked -him for it. “I really do not remember, Mark—pardon my effrontery in -addressing you by your first name on such brief acquaintance, but it -seems I’ve known you always. Dan, when did you first propose to me?” - -“Maisie, you’re an imp.” - -“A benevolent imp, at any rate,” Mellenger adjured him. “She goes out of -her way to make everybody around her comfortable.” - -“Did Dan tell you he desired you, Maisie?” Tamea was speaking now. - -“What makes you ask that, Tamea?” - -“I inquire to know. This is important.” - -“Well, Tamea, I don’t suppose Dan ever told me in so many words——” - -“Ah! With his eyes, then?” - -Maisie shrugged. “I suppose so.” - -Tamea favored Mellenger with a sidelong glance of disillusionment and -contempt. She spoke in French. “It appears that the rules of deportment -are broken as readily by those who dwell in this country as by those who -are ignorant of those rules. Now I shall proceed to be happy again. What -an excellent soup!” - -She saw by the look in Maisie’s eyes that Maisie had not understood her. -And this was true, for while Maisie was presumed to have learned French -in high school, it was high-school French, and Tamea’s rapid-fire -utterance was far beyond her understanding. - -“I hope you will be very happy,” she said in English to Maisie, who -thanked her with a demure smile. To Mellenger she said in a swift aside: -“I know very well she will not! What a curious dinner party! This woman -is thinking of schemes to take from me the man whom I desire. Alas! She -is no match for me, for look you, Mel, she has not the courage to take -that which she desires.” - -“Unfortunately, she has not, Tamea. Nevertheless, she may develop a form -of courage that may amaze you. Just now she gave you a bad minute or -two.” - -Tamea shrugged. “I have no fear. That which I desire I take, and that -which I take I think, perhaps—I—can—keep.” - -“Well, suppose we discuss something else,” Mellenger suggested in his -surprisingly good French. “And if you do not feel equal to the task of -keeping pace with the discussion, try being silent awhile.” - -Tamea included Dan and Maisie in her retort to this fundamentally solid -bit of advice. “This large friend of yours does not like me, no?” - -“Why, of course he likes you. Nobody could help liking you!” This from -Maisie, who was bound to be cheerful and complimentary at any cost. - -“You are wrong, Maisie. Mel thinks very quickly, and he talks as quickly -as he thinks. He thinks clearly, too. . . . Well, I should like him for -my good friend. One does not care for stupeed men. Mel is very honest. -He will make a good fight, yes? I think so. Yes, you bet. And I will -make a good fight, also.” - -“Something tells me you will. Are you the offspring of a nation of -warriors?” Mellenger queried. - -“My mother was the daughter of a chief—a king, bred from a thousand -kings. And in Riva he who would be king must be a warrior and a leader -of warriors.” - -“Is polyandry practiced in Riva?” Dan had emerged from the trance into -which the startling events of the past few minutes had thrown him. - -“I do not know what that is, dear Dan Pritchard,” declared Tamea. - -“I mean, do the women have more than one husband, and do the women -choose their husbands? In this country,” he hastened to add, “the men do -the choosing.” - -“Indeed?” Tamea seemed to find this humorous. “Men are weaklings -everywhere, I think, and in this country, as in Riva, it appears the -women sometimes do the choosing of their husbands. What else may one do? -You men are so stupeed!” - -“Let us discuss the League of Nations, Dan,” Mellenger suggested. “That -is a subject upon which you and I may hazard an opinion. Tamea, are you -an advocate of the right of self-determination for the lesser -nations—Ireland, for instance?” - -“You make the josh, Mel.” - -He chuckled, gave his attention to Maisie and displayed an amazing -facility at small talk and the gossip of her set. Thereafter he -addressed but an occasional word to Tamea, who, however, appeared to -relish this neglect, since it gave her ample opportunity to favor the -uncomfortable Dan with languishing looks. With the advent of the salad -Mellenger deftly piloted the conversation into the realm of trade and -finance, appealed very frequently to Dan for confirmation of some theory -or an expression of opinion. He contrived to leave Tamea quite out of -it, and when at last Maisie rose from the table and the others followed -her into the drawing room, Tamea was sensible of a feeling of neglect, -of paternalism. She resented this with all the fierce resentment of her -hot blood. - -But Mellenger was tact and graciousness personified; and when, as the -evening wore on, it began to dawn on Tamea that his action was not -predicated so much on antagonism to her as on a desire to save Maisie -from humiliation, her resentment began to fade. She observed that Dan -had little to say, that the conversation was dominated by Mellenger and -Maisie; in listening to their words, in watching the play of emotions on -their faces, an hour slipped by. Then Mellenger sat at the piano and -played while Maisie sang; and later Maisie played while Mellenger sang. -Tamea enjoyed their songs immensely and urged them on until ten o’clock, -when Dan suggested that perhaps she was tired and would like to retire. - -“You wish it?” Tamea queried softly. - -He nodded, so Tamea kissed him good night and then followed her caress -with one each for Mellenger and Maisie. - -When she had gone Mellenger swung round on the piano stool and grinned -at Dan Pritchard. - -“This has been a trying evening, old horse,” he declared, “but, by and -large and thanks to two people who appear to possess the faculty of -keeping their heads when all about them are losing theirs, what -threatened to become a riot has ended in a love feast. Dan, that girl is -nobody’s fool. Her head is quite filled with brains.” - -“I think, when she has become a little more civilized, she will be -adorable,” Maisie added. - -“She is adorable now,” Dan reminded them. Subconsciously he desired to -defend any weakness he might have exhibited during the evening. Also, he -had an impulse to castigate Maisie for her inexplicable conduct in -declaring, in the presence of his other guests, that an engagement -existed between them. - -“That’s no excuse for your losing your head over her, old son.” - -“Quite so,” Maisie echoed. “Because I sensed your helpless state, -following Tamea’s frank declaration of a proprietary interest in you, I -invented our engagement as a sort of funk-hole for you to crawl into, -Dan.” - -“You were very courageous, Maisie.” - -“It was a forlorn hope and it failed. I might as well inform you, my -friends, that Tamea was unimpressed.” Mellenger was very serious now. -“What are you going to do about this girl, Dan? You’ve got to get her -out of your house.” - -Dan shrugged helplessly. - -“If you send her to a boarding school now,” Maisie suggested, “she would -matriculate in the middle of a semester. You refer to her as a child, -Dan, but she is a fully developed woman, and I fear that her education, -in English at least, has been so neglected that she would have to start -in the same class with girls of ten or twelve. This would prove -embarrassing to her. She should have a year of private tutoring.” - -“Where, Maisie?” - -“I do not know, Dan.” - -“But you telephoned to me this evening that you had a plan to discuss.” - -“My plan is not fully developed, Dan, but it contemplated the engagement -of a governess and companion for Tamea, and sending them both to a -warmer climate—say Los Angeles—until Tamea becomes acclimated. You -seemed worried about her in the cooler climate of San Francisco.” - -“That’s a splendid plan,” Mellenger hastened to interrupt. “The success -of it depends upon the acquisition of the right sort of governess, of -course. She should be firm, indomitable, tactful, able and possess the -physical attributes of the champion heavyweight pugilist of the world.” - -“I fear you are absolutely right,” Dan sighed. - -“Well, then, I’m at my wits’ end, Dan’l,” Maisie confessed. - -“I am not,” Mellenger replied coolly. “I beg of you, Maisie, to dismiss -the matter. I shall go into executive session with myself and evolve a -plan that will be puncture-proof. I fear me neither you nor Dan is able -to think clearly in this emergency.” - -Maisie flashed him a swift glance of deepest gratitude. “In that event I -think I shall go home,” she said, and rang for Julia to fetch her wrap. -Dan escorted her out to her car, and as she gave him her hand at parting -he bent and kissed it humbly, turned and left her without the formality -of saying good night. - -Fortunately, Maisie thought she could understand the failure of his -conversational powers. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - -“Well, Mel,” Dan declared as he returned to the drawing room after -seeing Maisie to her car, “I am prepared for the worst. Fly to it, old -philosopher. I observe you are fairly bristling with bellicose veins.” - -“That is only additional proof that you are purblind.” Mellenger helped -himself to a cigar, rang for Sooey Wan, ordered a Scotch and soda and -removed his dinner coat. The major portion of his existence was spent -working in his shirt-sleeves, and tonight he had work to do. So he -cleared for action. - -“Now, then,” he began, “are you or are you not engaged to be married to -Maisie Morrison?” - -“I am not.” - -“I thought so. Going to be?” - -“I—don’t know, Mel.” - -“I’ll make up your mind for you. You are.” - -“Why?” - -“For any number of incontestable reasons. However, the principal reason -is that she is very much in love with you, and she is not particularly -happy about it. You’re such a dull dog.” - -“Granting that, why should I engage myself to Maisie?” - -“Because it would be good for you. It would be protection from the -world. You’re going to marry Maisie sooner or later. Why not do it now -and get the worry of it off your mind?” - -“But, you double-dyed idiot, I’m not at all certain I’d be perfectly -happy with Maisie.” - -“I’ll dissipate your doubts. You wouldn’t be. No man ever is perfectly -happy in the married state.” - -“How do you know?” - -“Observation and philosophical meditation. You would be perfectly happy -with Maisie about eighty-five per cent of the time, and all you have to -have in order to win is a controlling interest, or fifty-one per cent. -All married life is a continuous adjustment of conflicting -personalities. What you are seeking, we all seek—the wild, abandoned -thrill of a love that will never grow old or stale or commonplace—a -love that will punctuate your life with wonderful, breathless -moments—moments that you would not miss, even though in claiming them -you realized that sorrow and heartbreak might be the inevitable outcome -of your yielding. My dear old friend, you paint pictures in water colors -and see them turn to crude charcoal smudges. Dan, you seek the -unattainable; when you have found her, she will have been married ten -years to a barber!” - -There fell between them a long and pregnant silence. Then: - -“You spoke just now of—breathless moments, moments one would not miss, -even though in claiming them one realizes that sorrow and heartbreak may -be the inevitable outcome. Have you ever known such a breathless -moment?” - -“Yes—in France, during the war. She was a little dancer, about twenty, -I should say. I found her weeping and half conscious in the Place -Vendôme at four o’clock of a winter morning. There had been an air raid -and a great deal of anti-aircraft firing; she had been struck in the -foot by a shrapnel falling five thousand meters. I carried her to my -billet. . . two months. . . she will never dance again. . . fortunately -I was ordered home. . . send her a few francs every month. . . not very -much, because I can’t afford much, but she writes. . . breathless -moments when I get her letters. . . brains, imagination. . . I think she -loves me—always will, perhaps, but it’s no good thinking too much about -it. I have gotten over it.” Mellenger blew a succession of smoke rings -and watched them float upward to frame a face he would never see again, -except in his dreams. And dreams fade as men grow older and the fires of -youth burn out. - -“And was it worth the price, Mel?” - -“No, I knew that in the beginning. No joy that leaves a pain is quite -worth having.” - -“Yet we will never have done with our longing for the adventure. I -suppose that is why men who have never worn a uniform feel their hearts -beat high at the sight of homecoming troops.” - -“Yes, I think so. But remember, those civilians see only the avenue with -the flags flying; they have never seen the wreckage or heard the wail of -a funeral march. They’ve only dreamed of that and painted a vision they -call the Field of Honor, with a trail across it labeled the Path of -Glory. They know it leads to Hell, but they know also that some men -escape. You know, Dan, we can always visualize ourselves escaping, -because the wish is father to the thought.” - -“Well, at any rate, Mel, I have lived to know—one breathless moment.” - -“Do not know another, my friend.” - -“Believe me, I did not desire to know this one. I—I——” - -Mellenger waved his cigar in absolution. “You didn’t have any help at -the critical moment. I observed the event. I was sitting in the -semi-twilight of this room, thinking—I had asked Julia not to turn on -the light except in the hall. And then you and Tamea came in. . . I saw -your face, I saw hers. . . . And I had seen the face of the other girl -this afternoon. Tamea has told me in so many words, in French, that she -is going to land you; that she doesn’t consider Maisie a foeman worthy -of her steel. Says Maisie hasn’t got the courage to take that which she -desires. Tamea has. I’ll swear to that.” - -“There is nothing wrong about that.” - -“Certainly not. A convention of maidenly modesty has metamorphosed many -a fine woman into an embittered, disillusioned old maid. She could have -had her man for the asking—for the taking; and because she neither -asked nor took he thought her repression spelled indifference or -dislike. - -“There are many shy, embarrassed men in this world, you know. They are -always unhappy because always married to terrible women. - -“Big women, fat women, red-headed, dominating, coarse women, women with -thick ankles, sloppy women, dull women, over-dressed women, loud women, -but all women who flouted convention and who just naturally helped -themselves to the shy, embarrassed, gentle little men they coveted.” - -“Praise be, Tamea doesn’t come within the scope of your female _index -expurgatorius_. Isn’t she a glorious creature?” - -“Of course she is,” Mellenger agreed petulantly. “She’s more than -glorious. She’s devastating, and all the more ruinous to your peace of -mind because she is simple, natural, unspoiled, eager and amorous. But -you’ve got to put your bright day-dreams behind you and marry Maisie -Morrison.” - -“But why, Mel?” - -“Why, man, you cannot possibly contemplate the prospect of -miscegenation?” - -“Does Tamea remotely resemble a mulatto, a quadroon or an octoroon?” - -“She is half Polynesian.” - -“But a pure-bred Polynesian is a Caucasian.” - -“Very well, then, if you insist. But I insist that the Caucasian race -has many subdivisions. An Arab is a Caucasian; so is a Hindoo; but if -you marry a woman of Arabic or Hindoo blood and have children by her, -your offspring will be Eurasians. Tamea is a half-breed brown white. And -she’s not very brown, either—sort of old ivory. She’d pass for a white -girl anywhere. People who do not know her blood will say, ‘Isn’t she a -marvelous brunette type of beauty!’” - -“Well?” - -“If she bore you sons, how would you feel if they should grow up to be -great, hearty, brown fellows, unmistakably Polynesian, with prehensile -great toes, an aversion to work, a penchant for white vices? You cannot -dodge the Mendelian law, my boy. Like begets like, but in a union of -opposites we get throwbacks. Breed a black rabbit to a white one and you -will get piebald rabbits. Breed these latter to a white rabbit, and -continue to breed the offspring of succeeding unions to other white -rabbits until you have bred all the black out of them. About the time -you think you have beaten the Mendelian law, the pure white descendant -of a black and white union, a hundred generations removed, will present -you with a litter of pure black rabbits! You’re not going to run the -risk of mongrelizing the species, are you?” - -“No, I do not think I am, Mel.” - -“Do you know you are not?” - -“No.” - -“I thought so.” Mellenger rose, walked to Dan and thrust the ruddy end -of his cigar in the latter’s face. “You’re in love with Tamea already, -aren’t you?” - -“I don’t know, Mel. Something has happened. It happened tonight. You saw -it happen. It never happened to me before. Good Lord, Mel, old man, my -head has been in a whirl ever since.” - -“That isn’t love. It’s infatuation. I’ve been through it. I know. It’s a -wonderful madness. It’s what’s wrong with the world today. It’s at the -root of the divorce problem. Infatuation. And the fools think it is -love. - -“Nothing divine about it, nothing spiritual; its victims take no thought -of the qualifications so essential to successful marriage—an even -temper, generosity, unselfishness, tenderness, physical fitness, the -absence of mental and physical repulsiveness. - -“My dear man, love should be born in reverence, and if later it develops -into infatuation—well, I suppose that would be quite all right, since -in that case infatuation would be the natural, normal outgrowth of -love—the apotheosis of it. If you marry Maisie Morrison—look here, -Dan, you say you do not love her——” - -“I’m not certain, Mel.” - -“Then it is a fact that you think a very great deal of her. You have the -utmost respect for her, you are happy in her society, you feel reverent -toward her.” - -“Of course I do.” - -“Then, you star-gazing jackanapes, marry her and become infatuated with -her afterward. She can’t reach out and grab you and maul you and paw you -over and kiss you and whisper love words to you—like this child of -nature, Tamea. It’s up to you to do that, Dan. How are you going to -discover Maisie’s possibilities to compete with this passion-flower, -Tamea, unless you uncover them yourself? You’re a weak, cowardly sort of -man where women are concerned. I grow very weary of you, my friend. You -want to eat your cake and have it.” - -Dan laughed long and pleasurably at his old friend’s outburst. “You’re -such a comfort to me, Mel,” he declared. “I dare say you are right. I’m -cowardly. But then, one shouldn’t take even the most remote chance when -he marries. Marriage is until death.” - -“Death sometimes comes early to some married men, and it is welcome. If -you marry Tamea you will die spiritually long before the breath leaves -your carcass and the doctor signs a death certificate authorizing your -burial.” - -“What a gloomy picture you paint!” - -“Marrying an exotic woman like Tamea—a half aborigine—is like marrying -any other aborigine, because all aborigines are pigmented. And no matter -how transcendent the beauty of a pigmented aborigine—or half-breed -aborigine—that beauty fades early. They degenerate physically and -mentally. They are old at thirty, repulsive at forty, hags at fifty.” - -“Nonsense! Educate Tamea, spread over her the veneer of civilization, -teach her how to play, cultivate her voice, dress her exquisitely, and -who shall say of her, ‘You—_you_—are half aborigine’?” - -“You speak of a veneer of civilization. Sometimes I think the veneer is -very thin and that man today stands, basically, where he stood five -thousand years ago. Dan, it isn’t a question of a veneer of -civilization. It’s a question of the adaptability of species to its -environment. How long do you suppose it would take you, a white man, to -adapt yourself to the environment of such an island, say, as Riva, in -eastern Polynesia?” - -“I couldn’t hazard a guess.” - -“I could, and it would be a fairly accurate guess, since the history of -white occupation of the isles of the south Pacific will support my -contention. You would be an infinitesimal portion of the moral and -physical decay before you had lived there five years. After that you -wouldn’t care. It’s like mixing two acids that, combined, produce an -explosion. There is never any real adaptability of the human species, -you know. As long as you and Tamea lived you would have different -thoughts and different thought impulses, different moral values. This -difference would prove an attraction at first; then, gradually, you -would begin to find her ways inferior to yours, so you would have a -contempt for them, which means that presently you would grow to hate -Tamea.” - -Mellenger sat down and rested his head in his hands. “I wish I could -remember my geology and paleontology,” he complained. “However, I never -cared for it, so I swept it out of my rag bag of a mind. At any rate, -you are much older than Tamea——” - -“Oh, not so old as to make a vital difference. About eighteen years.” - -“Shut up, you ass. You ditch my train of thought. You are millions of -years older than Tamea. She is a Neolithic maid and you’re Paleozoic or -Silurian or Cretaceous or something, and in order to reach common ground -she’ll have to climb up through a lot of queer strata or you’ll have to -dig down. You paint mighty fine pictures, but down in Riva they’re still -carving hideous gods out of limestone and making hieroglyphics with a -burned stick; they’re still chasing each other around stumps with knobby -clubs.” - -“You’re the man who can paint pictures!” - -Mellenger sighed. “No, I cannot. I used to think I could, but nobody -else agrees with me, and now I agree with them. Thought once I’d develop -into a great novelist, when all that God Almighty created me for was to -be a great newspaper man!. . . Well, I’m not embittered, because I can -still think clearly and without illusion. And I can see fairly clearly, -too. . . . You’ve got to get rid of this girl.” - -“You’re quite bent on clearing the way for Maisie, aren’t you?” - -“Yes. But you are my friend, faithful and just to me, and I’ve loved you -since our freshman days in college. The years and wealth and success -haven’t changed you. You’re still the same shy, helpless, gentle, -obstinate, wistful boy, and—and—I—I want to do something for you, old -son. The best thing I can do is to clear the decks for Maisie and marry -you off to her. She’s a fine woman.” - -“But I do not know, really, how to get rid of Tamea. I can’t just chuck -her out, you know. Can’t send her to a hotel or an apartment house and -let her go on the loose. Maisie’s plan is ill-advised. You realized -that.” - -“Maisie didn’t have any plan. She isn’t up to the job of collected -thinking now.” - -“But she said she had a plan.” - -“Yes, I know. She wanted an excuse to come over here this evening to -guard you from Tamea.” - -“Mel, you have the most extraordinary ideas. You newspaper men are -always so suspicious of motives.” - -“Rats! Not suspicion. Absolute knowledge. When you asked her for her -plan she floundered. Got into deep water close to the shore and I had to -throw her a line. Immediately thereafter—but not until Tamea had -retired—Maisie went home.” - -“Have you a plan?” - -“You bet I have. The talk of a school is sheer nonsense. That girl is -beyond school, and if you put her in a school she’ll not remain put.” - -“You’ve overlooked one important detail. If she may not remain here or -in school she may promptly go to the deuce, for lack of proper control.” - -“That would be all right, Dan. The main point is that she must not take -you with her. If she sticks around this house she’ll get you into Town -Topics. She has designs on you, my boy. That’s why I suggest you queer -them by marrying Maisie Morrison immediately, if not sooner. Maisie has, -in effect, proposed to you, and you’ve been very cavalier in your -treatment of the proposal.” - -“What do you suppose made her make that wild statement to Tamea, Mel?” - -“The best excuse in life. Self-preservation. It’s the first law of human -nature.” - -“Just starting a backfire, eh?” - -Mellenger nodded and put on his dinner jacket. “I suppose you have -observed that women usually marry the men they make up their minds to -marry.” - -“No, I have not observed it.” - -“You’re a greater numbskull than I thought you were. Two women have made -up their minds to get you, and one of them is going to succeed.” He -glanced at his watch. “Well, I suppose Maisie Morrison is safe in her -bed by this time, crying herself to sleep, wondering how she is ever to -muster the courage to face you again after tonight. Better send her some -flowers in the morning and ask her to go for a drive with you. That will -put her at her ease. I managed to give Tamea some food for thought, and -with her sleep has been out of the question. She looked out of her -bedroom window and saw Maisie drive away. Then she crept downstairs, and -even now she is sitting out on the hall stairs listening to every word -we say. Tamea! Enter!” - -Tamea appeared in the doorway. - -“I am such a splendid clairvoyant. I can see around a corner,” Mellenger -remarked dryly. . . . “Well, if I had heard the stairs squeak a little -earlier in the evening I would not have talked so freely. Good night, -Tamea. Good night, Dan. Thanks for a wonderful dinner and a wonderful -evening. I’ll be back next Thursday night, as usual.” - -He smiled patronizingly as, on his way to the door, he passed Tamea. She -turned slowly and her fiery glance followed him. - -“No, Monsieur Mellengair, you have made the great mistake. I am not the -go-to-the-deuce kind. But if that is interesting, perhaps I shall make -the experiment, no? Well, when I do I shall make it alone, thank you.” - -“Now I suppose you’re very angry with me, Tamea.” - -“A little. Not so much as I think I shall be tomorrow. I forgive you -much tonight because you are not a fool. But—I shall remember some -things that you said—and those things that I remember I shall not -forgive. Good night.” - -“Good night.” - -Dan Pritchard roused from the dumb amazement into which he had been -thrown by Tamea’s sudden appearance on the scene. “Hey, wait a moment, -Mel! I’ll walk downtown with you,” he called. He had a sudden impulse to -flee from danger. - -But the heavy oaken door had already closed behind his friend, and in -the entrance to the drawing room Tamea stood looking at him. “Come to -me,” she murmured. “Come, _chéri_!” - -He went. - -Tamea’s round, beautiful arms came up around his neck slowly, -caressingly, and his head was drawn gently down toward her glorious face -until her lips touched his ear. - -“That man Mellengair—he is your friend. He is not mine. But if I had, -like you, such a friend—ah, I would be so rich! You must never lose -him, _chéri_! Oh, yes, I hate him, but that does not matter. He is very -wise, but he does not know your Tamea. Ah, no, dear one. I would have -you—ah, so happy—and I would be happy with you. But if to be with me -meant sorrow for you—oh, I could not be so cruel! First I would die. -And you will believe that? Yes?” - -Dan’s heart swelled—with that ecstacy that was almost a pain. And then -Tamea kissed his ear lightly, patted his cheek and fled upstairs to her -room, leaving him standing there—breathless, with a feeling that, be -the price what it might be, he could not afford to miss such another -moment as this. . . . It did not occur to him that sorrow and heartbreak -might be the outcome of his yielding. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - -Long before the sun came creeping up beyond Mt. Diablo, Dan Pritchard -made the discovery that the man who has too many things to think about -cannot devote constructive thought to any of them. After being the -innocent cause of more discomfort than Dan had thought it possible for -any man to experience in a single evening, Tamea had swept from his -heart in a moment a feeling of resentment, or irritation, that had been -developing there. Her tender little speech, evidencing as it did the -essential nobility of her primitive soul, had surrounded the girl, in -Dan’s eyes, with a newer, more distinctive charm, and rendered more -distressing the prospect of the impending parting. For all the -embarrassment she had caused him in Maisie’s presence, Dan realized that -Tamea was not _gauche_, that she possessed in full measure a -characteristic rather uncommon among her white sisters, and that was -sportsmanship. - -Tamea fought in the open; she was above a mean, small, underhanded -action. Notwithstanding the fact that Tamea’s calm announcement to her -rival that Dan was her man had caused him to yearn for a hole into which -he might disappear, effectually dragging the aperture in after him, Dan -had a hearty man’s hearty appreciation of her frankness, her simplicity, -her utter lack of dissembling, of feminine guile. He entertained a -similar feeling of admiration for Maisie, in whom the exigencies of this -peculiar situation had developed similar characteristics. And lastly, he -was sensible of a little titillation to his masculine vanity in the -knowledge that two glorious women desired him, that they were engaged in -a battle of wits and charm to win him. - -He was, on the whole, however, very uncomfortable and apprehensive of -unfortunate developments. Mellenger, beloved pal of his boyhood and -steadfast friend of his mature years, had read him truthfully and then -told him that which he had read. Dan was unwilling to believe that -Mellenger had read him aright yet he had lacked the courage to deny it. - -What a keen fellow Mark Mellenger was! How prudent, farseeing and -fearless! And how charitable, how thoroughly understanding! Dear old -Mel! He hadn’t gotten ahead in life. His one great ambition had failed -dismally of realization, and he had had to content himself with second -place; nevertheless he was not embittered. His life was taken up with -doing well the task he could do so much better than others; no hint of -the sadness of unfulfilled dreams ever escaped him, and until tonight -Dan had never seen him excited or distressed about anything. - -“The old boy has a tremendous affection for me,” Dan meditated as he got -out of bed, donned dressing gown and slippers and sat by the window to -watch the sun rise over San Francisco bay. “What a blow it would be to -him were I to—but of course I shall not. The idea is unthinkable.” - -Gradually his mind turned to thoughts of business, to the increasing -annoyance of association with old John Casson, to the rice market. He -would call upon Ridley, the rice broker, and put pressure behind the -selling drive if Ridley failed to render an encouraging report by noon. -Once in the clear on those rice deals, he was resolved to do one of two -things—buy John Casson out or force Casson to buy him out. - -And then there was the accursed question of what to do with Tamea. That -also would have to be solved today. - -At seven o’clock he heard Sooey Wan puttering about in the kitchen -below, so he shaved, bathed, dressed and descended for an early -breakfast. Sooey Wan served him in profound silence, but eyed him with a -steady, speculative gaze; from time to time he shook his old head as if -he, too, wrestled with problems hard to solve. When Dan left the house -Sooey Wan accompanied him into the hall, helped him into his overcoat -and handed him hat and stick. Then he voiced something of what was on -his mind. - -“Boss, how soon you mally Captain’s girl?” - -“How dare you ask me such a question? Mind your own business, you -grinning old idol, or I’ll fire you one of these bright days. I’m not -going to marry the Captain’s girl.” - -Sooey Wan did not seem to be impressed. “Helluva house you ketchum, -boss, you fire Sooey Wan. Allee time you makee too much talkee-talk. -Talk velly cheap, but ketchum money you likee buy whisky. You no mally -Captain’s girl, eh? Well, when you mally Missie Maisie?” - -“I don’t know. Why do you ask?” - -Sooey Wan rubbed his corrugated brow and scowled in huge despair. “Go -’long, boy, go ’long,” he entreated wearily. “Allee time you makee Sooey -Wan sick. Why I ask? Wha’s mallah? You no wanchee ketchum little -baby—ketchum fi’, six son?” - -“I haven’t thought about it,” Dan growled. - -“Hully up. Thinkee quick!” Sooey Wan entreated. “Pitty soon if you no -thinkee, evelything go blooey-blooey. Sooey Wan talkee Captain’s girl, -she tellee me pitty soon ketchum my boss for mally. Now you say no -ketchum. Wha’s mallah? You thinkee make fool of Sooey Wan? Listen, boy. -When Captain’s girl say ketchum boss, then Sooey Wan bettee bankroll on -Captain’s girl. She ketch you, sure. Oh-h-h, velly nice!” - -Dan slammed the door in Sooey Wan’s face and hastened down the street. -It was an hour’s walk to his office and his head ached from too much -thinking. The exercise would do him good. - -He purchased the morning papers and looked through them for Tamea’s -picture and the story of her arrival, of her father’s dramatic death. -Mellenger, for some unknown reason, had not featured his story as Dan -had expected. It was a short straight news story, on the second page, -with a very good picture of Tamea, and Dan noted that Mellenger had said -nothing of the fact that he was to be Tamea’s guardian, that she was a -guest at his home. The other paper had handled the story more -flamboyantly and featured it on the first page, but with an eye single -to local color the editor had run the photograph of Tamea in the Mother -Hubbard dress. - -“Brainless apes,” Dan growled. “Makes her look like a colored mammy. I -hate them.” - -Arrived at his office, he had scarcely read his mail before Ridley, the -rice broker, called him up. - -“I can unload that four thousand tons at Shanghai for cash,” he -announced, “but the price I can get will not leave you much of a -profit.” - -“How much?” - -“Fourteen cents, at ships’ tackles, Shanghai.” - -Dan figured rapidly while Ridley held the wire. The price quoted would -net his firm a profit of about eight thousand dollars. “Sold!” he cried -triumphantly. - -By noon the deal had been definitely closed with Ridley’s client, the -space contracted for on the Malayan transferred to the new owner of the -rice, and the check in payment deposited in bank. Dan’s mental -thermometer commenced to rise, so he decided to accord himself the -delight of breaking the news to old Casson. - -The senior partner’s face darkened with fury. “You’ve cost us a -potential profit of a quarter of a million dollars, Pritchard. I suppose -you realize that this confounded interference of yours means the end of -our business association.” - -“I hope so. Thank you, I wouldn’t care for another helping of the -mustard. Do you propose buying me out or selling out to me?” - -“I would prefer to buy you out—today—and carry those rice deals -myself.” - -“Unfortunately, the sale of my interest here will not invalidate my -signature on some of this firm’s paper, Mr. Casson.” - -“That might be arranged somehow. What do you want for your interest?” - -Dan named a figure and old Casson nodded approval. - -“Terms?” he queried. - -“Cash.” - -“Impossible.” - -“Well, then, fifty thousand in cash and the balance on secured notes.” - -“Impossible.” - -“I had a suspicion you have dissipated in crazy deals most of your share -of the money we made during the war. Well, it appears you cannot buy me -out, and until our rice deals have been safely disposed of, if not at a -profit at least without loss, I do not yearn to take over your share. It -might prove a very bad investment. However, for reasons which would -never occur to you, I am willing, once the rice deals have been disposed -of, to buy you out on a basis of the actual value of our assets, but -with nothing additional for good-will. All the good-will value of Casson -and Pritchard has been created by my father and myself.” - -“I shall not sell on that basis.” - -“Very well. The day on which our last note is paid I am relieved of all -contingent liability as a partner in Casson and Pritchard. We will -dissolve partnership. That will kill your credit with our bankers and I -shall sit calmly by and watch you go to smash. When you’ve had your -beating, sir, you will be glad to sell—at my terms. I am generous now. -You may be sure I shall not be generous then.” - -Old Casson glowered, puffed at his cigar and then studied the ash -reflectively. - -“While you were busy this morning unloading that Shanghai rice at a -paltry eight thousand dollars profit—just because you lack the courage -of a jack-rabbit—I disposed of the Manila rice at the market.” - -“To whom?” - -“Katsuma and Company.” - -“Japs, eh?” - -“They’re good.” - -“Financial rating is unquestionably splendid. Know anything about the -moral rating of a Japanese business firm?” - -“They’ve always met their business obligations.” - -“Any Jap will—until the meeting of them becomes burdensome or -unprofitable. Ninety day paper, I suppose.” - -Casson smiled triumphantly. “No, not with Katsuma and Company. Sight -draft against bill of lading, payable at the Philippine National Bank.” - -“Well, that’s better than I had expected. Unfortunately the cargo has to -be loaded aboard ship before that draft will be cashable. That means -thirty days of suspense—and I do not like the financial aspect in the -East. Prices _must_ come down—and once they start downward they may -develop into an economic avalanche. It’s an unhealthy situation and I -don’t like it. Where’s your contract with Katsuma and Company?” - -Casson handed it to him and Dan scanned it carefully, nodded his -approval, rang for the chief clerk and gave the contract to him to be -placed in the safe. - -“Well, on the face of things, we’re out of the rice market,” he said as -he rose to return to his own office. “I feel much relieved.” - -In his private office he found Mark Mellenger waiting for him. “Well, -you bird of ill omen,” Dan greeted him cheerily, “what brings you here?” - -“Had an hour to kill and thought I’d kill it here. I do not go on duty -until one thirty. Dan, I’ve been thinking. What, if anything, have you -decided in the matter of the girl, Tamea?” - -“Nothing, Mel. I’ve been too busy on something else.” - -“It would be well to make Tamea’s matter a special order of business. -Have you thought of anything to do?” - -“Not a thing.” - -“I suspected that might be the case. The fact is that you are being -ruled by your subconscious mind. You do not wish to do anything. -However, you shall. I have a plan.” - -“Indeed?” - -“None of your sarcasm. Not that it will avail you anything. It’s just -futile—wasted energy—on me. You must induce Maisie Morrison to take -Tamea to Del Monte for a couple of weeks.” - -“My dear man, why should I ask Maisie to burden herself with such a -responsibility?” - -“Well, it _is_ selfish, I admit, but then if one would make an omelette -one must break eggs. Maisie will regard it as a burden and she will -appreciate to the fullest your cussedness in asking her, but she will -accept the nomination gracefully—indeed, I am moved to -add—gratefully.” - -“How do you know she will?” - -“Don’t know. I’m merely guessing. I guessed her right last night, did I -not?. . . Yes, I’m not half bad at guessing things.” - -“But something tells me there is mutual hostility between Maisie and -Tamea. They disliked each other at sight.” - -“Quite true. But then women who despise each other for a reason which -may not be discussed will never admit that they despise each other. And -Maisie will subjugate her very natural desire to spank Tamea if she -realizes that by so doing she will be enabled to thwart Tamea in the -latter’s campaign for your affection. It occurs to me, therefore——” - -“You mean that Maisie will eagerly grasp the opportunity to take Tamea -out of my presence and keep her out?” - -“Dan, you poor moon-calf, you’re growing brilliant. You’re beginning to -do some head-work. Answering your question, I would say that such is my -interpretation of what will be her mental attitude.” - -“Women are so queer,” Dan declared helplessly. - -“Women study the essentials which most men overlook, to wit, cause and -effect. The adverb _why_ was invented for the use of women. They always -want to know. When they have a battle on they use their heads to think -continuously of the enemy. They do not forget him or ignore him or -underestimate him—I mean her.” - -“Old cynic!” - -“Not at all. That’s sound argument based on observation. A smart woman -never forgets that her opponent is extremely likely to act with -discretion.” - -“Well?” - -“I think you ought to ask Maisie and her aunt to be your guests at Del -Monte for a few weeks, and explain to Maisie that you will take it -kindly of her to look after Tamea. Be sure to inform her that while you -will drive down with them and spend the week-end, you will motor home on -Monday—and stay at home thereafter. You see, Dan,” Mellenger continued, -“there will be much to divert and interest Tamea down there. She can -ride, and if she cannot ride she can spend her time learning. Same thing -with golf. She can swim—and I dare say she’ll be the sensation of the -beach. Lots of good looking, idle gents down there to take her mind off -you, and with Maisie and her aunt to chaperon her, and Julia to help -steer her straight, you stand a very fair chance of forgetting her, of -having her forget you.” - -“That is a very good plan. After a few weeks there I will have her -school arrangements made. Then I’ll have a talk with her, tell her -exactly what I want, and that I am going away on a trip to Europe and -that she must be a very good, obedient girl while I am away.” - -“But—are you really going to Europe?” - -“I am. In about thirty days I’m going to sell out to old Casson, or buy -him out. If the former, I’ll be free to go. If the latter, I’ll appoint -a manager and go abroad anyway.” - -“The day you get Tamea into a convent—and that’s where she belongs—you -are to marry Maisie Morrison and take her to Europe with you. I’ll keep -an eye on Tamea for you. - -“No risk, I assure you. I have a pachydermous hide which her glances may -not penetrate. Besides, I’ve always been singularly intrigued with the -idea that one of these bright days I may marry some fine woman and -father some blue-eyed, flaxen-haired children.” - -“You old-fashioned devil!” - -“Do not seek with specious compliments to swerve my single-track mind -from your _affaire de cœur_. It is understood, then, that you are -committed to my plan?” - -“Absolutely.” - -“Fine! Telephone Maisie at once.” - -Dan hesitated, so Mellenger pressed the push-button that summoned Dan’s -secretary. “Please get Miss Morrison on the telephone for Mr. -Pritchard,” he requested. - -Maisie was at home and to Dan’s suggestion she agreed—not with -enthusiasm, but upon the ground of obliging him, of helping him out of a -distressing situation. Mellenger, listening to Dan’s replies, managed to -patch together a very fair résumé of their conversation, and grinned -openly. - -“Told you I was a good hand at guessing,” he bragged. “Ah, that’s a -smart girl, that Maisie. She’s a diplomat. Got tact—rarest feminine -gift. Before you hang up I should like to speak to her.” - -There was a wait of a few minutes while Maisie urged her aunt to agree -to chaperon the party. Presently Maisie called back to say that Mrs. -Casson, having communicated by telephone with her husband, would be -delighted to accept. - -“Falls in with old Casson’s mood very nicely,” Dan soliloquized. “He’s -morose and sulky and prefers to be alone.” To Maisie: “Mel is in my -office, Maisie. He wishes to say a word to you.” - -“Miss Maisie,” Mellenger announced, “I’ve taken on a new job.” - -“Indeed?” - -“I’m managing Dan Pritchard. The man is bewildered and doesn’t know how -to manage himself. He’s afraid to act with force and decision at home, -although down in the office he never hesitates to crack the whip.” - -“I know. Dan is so tender-hearted. He’s afraid his passion-flower will -droop and die if he exercises the least bit of authority. If his true -friends do not organize——” - -“Exactly, Miss Maisie, exactly. You start for Del Monte at two o’clock -this afternoon, in Dan’s car. You will arrive in time for dinner. Your -trunks will follow by express.” - -“Are you giving orders, Mel?” - -“I am.” - -“I hear you and I obey. Good-by. Thank you.” - -Mellenger hung up and faced Dan. “Go home and get ready, but before you -leave this office, telephone Julia and start her packing.” - -“You’re a fast worker.” - -“I know a faster one,” Mellenger retorted significantly. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - -At a quarter past seven, when Dan Pritchard’s limousine drew up in front -of the Hotel Del Monte, a white, flannel-clad figure heaved itself out -of a chair on the porch, came down the steps and opened the door of the -car. - -“Good evening, everybody,” he greeted Dan’s party. - -“Hello! Mel! You here!” - -Mellenger sighed. “One might glean the impression judging by your -intonation, that I haven’t any right here,” he complained. “After -leaving your office today I began to feel the downhill pull, so I jumped -the two o’clock train and here I am. How do you do, Miss Maisie.” - -He gave Maisie his hand and assisted her to alight. They exchanged -glances and Mellenger felt his hand squeezed just a little. He answered -the pressure, was introduced to Mrs. Casson as Dan handed her out on the -steps, and immediately turned to greet Tamea. - -“Good evening, Your Majesty.” - -“Good evening, Monsieur Stoneface,” Tamea answered, and ignored his -outstretched hand. He knew she was not pleased to find him here, and her -next words, spoken in French, clinched this conclusion. “I will make -your task an easy one,” she challenged. “I have been doing some -thinking.” She smiled enigmatically. “Oh, I understand you very well, -indeed!” - -“Yes, I think we understand each other, Tamea. I want you to know, -however,” he added as they followed Dan, Maisie and Mrs. Casson into the -hotel, “that my attitude is perfectly impersonal. I do not dislike you.” - -“If you understood me there would have been no necessity for that -speech. Listen to my words, Stoneface. I——” - -“Why do you call me Stoneface?” he interrupted. - -“Because to many people your face reveals nothing. It is dull and blank -when you would deceive people, but you are not a fool, Stoneface. But -you remind me of the tremendous stone images on the coast of Easter -Island, with their plain, sad, dull faces turned ever toward the sea as -if seeking something that never comes. So you are Stoneface to me.” - -“And what do I seek?” he demanded. - -“You seek in men those qualities which are in you. They are hard to -find, Stoneface. And you seek from some woman a love that will give a -little in exchange for a great deal. You are a lonely man, -Stoneface—always seeking, seldom finding, never satisfied. You see, I -have been thinking of you. And I have done some thinking on your words -to Dan Pritchard.” - -“I hope you will not quarrel with me for that.” - -“It is hard to quarrel with the true friend of him I love, but you are -in my way, Stoneface, and you are a resolute man. So I shall not have -mercy. Of two women who love your friend, you must, it seems, approve of -one. I am not that one. . . . Well, when the gods rain blows on Tamea -she will take them standing and none shall know how much they hurt. And -you have hurt me, Stoneface. Still, I shall be what you call a good -sport. Dan Pritchard has come to this place for a few days to play—with -me—and you are here to have him play—with you! Well, Stoneface, I give -him to you for those few days because I love him. I would not have his -mind distressed with the striving to keep two women happy. I shall not -again be of gross manners and embarrass him,” she added darkly. - -“You feel quite certain of yourself, do you not?” - -“Yes. And why not? This girl”—with an infinitesimal shrug of her -shoulder she indicated Maisie, who had met a friend in the lobby and was -talking to her—“causes me no alarm, so I shall be kind to her.” - -“I’m the bug in your amber, eh?” - -“You must be considered,” she admitted. - -He laughed. - -“Why do you oppose my desires, Stoneface? I am not a black woman, I am -not stupid, I have, perhaps, as much beauty as——” And again she -shrugged a shoulder at Maisie. - -“I am informed,” said Mellenger coolly, “that on your mother’s side you -are descended from a line of kings who have never mingled their blood -with that of the common people.” - -“That is true.” - -“I would that my friend refrained from mingling the blood of his -children with that of another race, a race that is not white.” - -She was silent, digesting this unanswerable argument. Then: “Some day, -perhaps, Stoneface, you will cast away that argument. Like a child’s -garment, it will not fit a grown man.” - -Maisie came toward them. “We will go to our rooms now and dress for -dinner, Tamea,” she suggested. - -When he was alone in the lobby Mark Mellenger sat down in a quiet corner -to think. “She bombs one,” he complained. “She fairly blows one out of -the water. She will not be deferred to nor pitied nor patronized. -Realizing why I am here—why I have found it necessary to be here—she -renders me futile and my presence unnecessary by changing her tactics. -She reads my poker face, and, having read it this evening, she has taken -my job away from me and I feel foolish. Judas priest, what a woman! -She’s perfectly tremendous! Fair and square, hitting straight from the -shoulder and with character enough to dislike me intensely. She is -adorably feminine and I’ve got my hands full to defeat her purpose. She -isn’t going to plead with me to get out of her way, nor is she going to -oppose me. She’s just going to ignore me. . . . Well, poor old Dan, I -did the best I could by you, at any rate. The idealistic, altruistic -dreamer. He’s helpless, because this girl possesses a charm that Maisie -hasn’t got or hasn’t developed. Tamea can hear the pipes of Pan. That’s -it! She can hear them and make men hear them, too.” - -It did not occur to Mellenger that he liked reedy music. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - -At dinner Tamea captured a seat beside Dan but gave it up almost -instantly to Maisie, giving as a reason her desire to sit beside Mark -Mellenger and talk with him. However, she had little to say during the -meal. Seemingly she was content to be a good listener. - -“Yes, she has been doing some thinking,” Mellenger thought. “And she has -decided to disarm active opposition by abandoning direct action and -fighting under the rules of the game as Maisie and her kind play it. -Preëmpted the seat beside Dan and then abandoned it, just to show her -power. She’s half French and a born coquette.” - -Suddenly Tamea turned to him as if she had read his thoughts. “I have -decided to be all white,” she said. - -He noted the fascination of her habit of starting a conversation as if -it were the continuation of a discussion, her trick of foreshortening -words and ideas. - -“I commend your decision, Tamea.” - -“Will you help me, Stoneface?” she pleaded with sad wistfulness. - -“No!” - -She bowed her head understandingly. . . . When the gods rained blows on -Tamea, Queen of Riva, she took them standing, and none might know how -much they hurt. - -“I hate you—but I respect you,” she said in a low voice. “You are a man -of resolution, Stoneface.” - -“I wonder, my dear, if you will believe me when I assure you it is very -difficult for me to act in a manner which causes you to dislike me.” - -“Yes, I know that. If you were unkind because you enjoyed unkindness, -Dan Pritchard would not love you.” - -“Tamea, you have, in full measure, the greatest gift, an understanding -heart. In time I shall hope to be understood and—forgiven.” - -She frowned. “An understanding head might be a better gift. This -evening, when I saw you, I understood why you came without telling -anybody. And I thought: ‘Tamea, you are a little fool. Go back to Riva -where your mixed blood does not set you apart from your world. Here it -is difficult to know happiness!’” - -“That was a sensible thought. Why do you not return to Riva? You are -terribly out of place here.” - -“You, who are all white, cannot understand the combat in my heart, -Stoneface. I inherited too much from my father, who was a very wonderful -man. I comprehend too quickly, I see too clearly and, I think, -sometimes, I shall never be very happy. I am a child of love and -I—I—well, I am sorry you will not help me know the ways of your -people. I shall learn without aid but just now I would make haste. . . . -However, I understand.” - -Her long, beautiful hands lay in her lap—her fingers lacing and -interlacing nervously; her face was downcast. Mellenger suspected that -her long black lashes, seeming to lie on her rose-ivory cheek, -effectually concealed a suspicious moistness. There was about her a sad, -gentle, Madonna-like wistfulness more poignant than sorrow. Mellenger -was touched. - -Presently she raised her head and smiled defiantly. “Perhaps I, too, -shall be a Stoneface, searching the sea for that which never comes. -Tomorrow what shall we do to make happiness for ourselves?” - -“Tomorrow I would like to dedicate to the delightful task of making you -happy.” - -“Then go away. You are not needed here.” - -“I will go on Monday with Dan in his car. Until then you must endure -me.” - -“Thank you, Stoneface. This is a pretty place with none but fashionable -people in it, apparently. I shall learn much here so I shall be dutiful -and remain here very quietly with Maisie and Mrs. Casson.” - -“That will please Dan very much.” - -“He will think of me while he is away. He will write to me. Perhaps he -will think of Maisie too and write to her. If so—very well. It is not -nice to play the cat.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - -That ended the conversation for that night. Tamea retired shortly after -dinner, leaving Maisie and Mellenger in possession of the field. The -next morning Dan and Mellenger breakfasted early and left for the golf -links at Pebble Beach. Maisie, her aunt and Tamea joined them there for -luncheon, and in the afternoon Maisie, Dan and Mellenger made up a -threesome and played nine holes, with Tamea following, playing the part -of the gallery and bored to the point of tears. At a point on the course -where one drives along the cliff, Mellenger sliced badly and drove a new -ball into the Pacific Ocean. Tamea was frankly delighted. In the evening -there was dancing and again Tamea was out of it. She could neither -fox-trot nor waltz; she could only gaze wistfully after Dan and Maisie. - -Mellenger sat with her. “Do you dance, Stoneface?” she queried. - -“Oh, yes!” - -“Perhaps you will teach me?” - -“When?” - -“Now.” - -“Oh, but a beginner——” - -“You do not wish me to dance with Dan Pritchard?” - -“I do not.” - -She nodded. “I have listened to this music and I have watched these -others dance. I think I can dance the fox-trot, too. You shall dance -with me, Stoneface. I would learn.” - -“I’ll not make a spectacle of myself, Tamea.” - -“Then I shall. You shall dance with me or I shall dance alone, and when -I dance alone others cease dancing to watch me. I will do what you call -bust up the show. I will do the _hula_!” - -“You win,” he declared, and they stood up. Tamea made a false step or -two, caught the rhythm and moved away rather easily. As she gathered -confidence she improved and they circled the hall without colliding with -anybody. “You’re an apt pupil,” said Mellenger. - -“I grow more apt,” she retorted—and commenced to dance. In all his days -Mark Mellenger had never held in his arms a more wonderful partner. She -handled him easily, steering him cleverly among the dancers, moving with -a swiftness, a lightness and an abandon both new and thrilling. - -“You have danced before?” he charged. “You’re marvelous.” - -“In Tahiti,” she admitted. “I had a humor to force you to meet my will. -Now I am very weary—so weary that I shall not dance with Dan Pritchard -if he asks me—and he will.” - -Dan did—and Tamea begged off. Mellenger was immensely amused. “Playing -me off against old Dan,” he thought. “Well, I think I shall fall in with -that mood and play the game. This is getting interesting.” - -They drove around the seventeen mile drive the following forenoon and -had a Spanish luncheon in Monterey; in the afternoon Mark and Dan played -eighteen holes of golf while Tamea and Maisie went down to the beach -swimming. After dinner Tamea fell into step beside Mellenger as they -walked down the long hall and clasped her hand in his, after a childish -fashion she had. - -“You have been very nice to me today, Stoneface,” she admitted. “I -think, perhaps, I may learn soon to forget that I dislike you. Do you -insist upon going back to the city tomorrow morning?” - -“Yes, I’m going back with Dan.” - -“Please do not go,” she whispered, and squeezed his hand a little. - -“Why? Why do you ask me to remain, child?” - -“Because I shall be lonely here—and if you remain perhaps we may have a -nice fight, no? I wish to talk to you—to understand some things. -Please?” - -She halted him, came close to him and looked up at him in a manner that -could not be resisted. Mellenger felt a wild thrill in his heart and it -must have registered in his eyes, for Tamea’s great orbs answered thrill -for thrill. - -“I’ll not stay,” he almost growled. - -“Then walk with me a few minutes in the grounds,” she begged. “I must -have some conversation with you—alone.” - -They strolled out and down a graveled path through the trees to a bench -Tamea had observed under one of them that day. They sat down. Tamea was -first to speak. - -“Stoneface, I have done much thinking because of what I heard you tell -Dan the other night at his house. I know now how the friends of Dan -Pritchard will regard me if he takes me to wife. They will not say, ‘Ah, -there is that nice wife of his.’ No, they will say, ‘There is Dan -Pritchard and his Kanaka wife.’ I shall always be one apart. You have -made me very unhappy, Stoneface, but perhaps I should thank you for -telling me first. Now I shall not go too far until I know how far I -should go.” - -“I’m so sorry,” he murmured humbly. “I didn’t mean it for your ears. I -wouldn’t have said it—then—if I had known you were eavesdropping. -You’re much too fine, Tamea, to have this happen to you, but I know Dan -Pritchard. You are not the woman for him. Maisie Morrison is.” - -“Perhaps those are true words, Stoneface. I do not know men of your race -too well. Yet it is certain that some day a man will seek me and I will -be glad of the seeking. Many have sought me already, but you must -understand, Stoneface, they were not gentlemen. Ah, but you do not -understand. . . you do not know how much I wish to be all white. . . how -my heart hurts because here, where I am alone, I must be alone always -because I—am—different.” - -He was overwhelmed with sympathy and possessed himself of her hand and -patted it, but without speaking. - -“You like me, do you not, Stoneface?” she pleaded. - -“You are wonderful—transcendently beautiful—you have a mind and a -heart and a soul.” - -“And you like me—a very little?” - -His grip on her hand tightened. “God help me,” he murmured huskily. “I -love you. I am like a man smitten with a plague.” - -“Yes, you love me. I was quite certain of that, only you told me the -eyes were not admissible as evidence. You did not think I could stir a -heart of stone and see love and longing in Stoneface, no? But I saw it, -and I have not wished it, for I have not liked you. And now will I make -you humble. You shall seek the love of the woman you would not wish your -friend to take to wife—no, no, I dishonor you, Stoneface. - -“Forgive, please. You would not seek it, but you shall yearn for it with -a great yearning that shall cause you to forget that in my veins flows -an ancient and alien blood. Stoneface, know you that if half of my blood -is dark it is not the blood of the unbeautiful or the base. It is the -blood of the kings and patriarchs of a lost race that is dying because, -in its innocence, it touched hands with the vilest of living things, the -white man civilized. No, I am not ashamed of my blood. I am proud of it -and I rejoice that it has given me a weapon to humble you.” - -She grasped his hands and drew him toward her. “Look at me, Stoneface,” -she commanded. But he turned away his heavy, impassive face. “Ah, look -at me,” she pleaded now, “and let me see again in those strange, stern -eyes the look that was there when you betrayed yourself into my power. -For I have power—over men. I know it. It is not to brag, to show a -large conceit, when I admit it—to you. . . . Come, look at me, -Stoneface.” - -He looked at her, turning his head slowly, as if it hurt him to move it. -There, in the moonlight, in that scented park, her power, her tremendous -magnetism, the intoxicating glory of her strange, baffling, childlike -but commanding personality made his heart pound and set up in his huge -frame a weak trembling. Had he possessed the power to think, this spell -she had cast upon him, all within the space of seventy-two hours, would -not have been possible of analysis. Perhaps the best explanation was the -one he had already given—that he was as a man suddenly smitten with a -plague. - -“You tremble, Stoneface.” - -“That is because I am weak, Tamea, and I am ashamed of my weakness. I, -who came to scoff, remain to pray.” - -“That is my desire. I would have you, of all men, suffer as you have -made me suffer. I shall make of you a great stone idol, with stony face -turned sadly to the sea, like those colossal figures on the coast of -Easter Island. Yes, Stoneface. Now you may gaze long for that which -never comes. I am avenged.” - -She dropped his hands and with her own clasped tight against her -tumultuous breast she looked at him with eyes that blazed with emotion. -Mellenger sighed deeply and then his heavy, almost dull face lighted -with a smile so tender the plain face was glorified. - -“And when the gods rain blows upon me, O Tamea, I, too, shall take them -standing and smiling. You have called me Stoneface. Very well. I -withdraw my opposition. I would have you happy, even at the price of my -old friend’s unhappiness, even at the sacrifice of my own. But I shall -not gaze out to sea for that which never comes. For it shall come. And -when I see you bent and broken and taking the blows with your flower -face in the dust——” - -Her glorious face softened. “Then what, Stoneface? Then what?” - -“Then,” he murmured huskily, “I shall weep. But I shall also lift you up -and hold you to my heart and love you, and my love shall endure in the -days when you are old, and perhaps fat, when your beauty shall be but a -memory. Yes, Tamea, when you too are a Stoneface gazing sadly out to sea -for that which came—and went—and shall never, never come again, I -shall love you and love you the more because your child’s heart will -have been broken. You will, perhaps, remember this when you need a -friend.” - -He left her there and went away, with hands outstretched a little before -him, like one who walks in darkness and is afraid. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - -In the morning Mellenger was gone. He left a note to Dan explaining that -he had received a sudden and wholly unexpected call to return to San -Francisco and begged Dan to present his compliments to the ladies and to -express his regret at an unceremonious departure. - -“The man’s a poor slave,” Dan declared. - -Tamea, who had been at his elbow as he read, inquired: “Who?” - -“Mellenger. He has left us.” - -“Ah,” Tamea breathed—thoughtfully. After a brief silence she said: -“Then Maisie will have an opportunity to play with you. I am glad -Mellengair has gone.” - -“Tamea, you mustn’t hold a grudge against my friend Mark. He is not an -enemy of yours.” - -“An enemy conquered is no longer an enemy, Dan. I do not hold the -grudge. I have taken my vengeance on that man for the hurt he has done -me, and I am content to forget him.” - -“But you’ll always be pleasant and courteous to him when you meet him at -my house?” - -“_Certainement._” - -“Sorry you cannot play golf, or we’d make it a threesome, Tamea.” - -“What man would be delayed and annoyed in his sports by an unlearned -woman? I have letters to write to friends in Riva and Tahiti, so go you -with Maisie.” - -Dan was glad to accept an invitation so heartily extended. He had a -feeling that, in the delicate operation of remaining strictly neutral, -he had neglected Maisie; he felt that Maisie sensed the neglect. With a -light heart and a beaming smile, therefore, he sought her out and drove -off with her to the golf links at Pebble Beach. They played eighteen -holes and had luncheon at the Lodge, and not once during the day did -either refer to Tamea, her future or her avowed attitude toward her -guardian. - -Late in the afternoon they drove down the Monterey County coast. Dan -could not recall an occasion when Maisie had been more delightful in -conversation or more winsome as to personal appearance. She appeared to -have fallen suddenly into a habit he had not previously noted, that of -adjusting herself to his moods. Throughout that drive there were long, -blissful silences when Maisie observed his head sunk on his breast and -the dreamer’s look in his troubled eyes; when he saw fit to toss her a -conversational bone she seized it eagerly and managed to extract from it -a surprising quantity of red meat. He was thrilled with a new sense of -the girl’s potentialities for comradeship and sympathy, for abrupt and -infallible understanding. Today she made no attempt to dominate him, to -encompass and envelop him in the aura of her penchant for leadership, -for direction. And he liked that quite as much as he disliked criticism, -whether expressed or implied. Had Maisie at last sensed what had been -keeping them apart for so long—his repugnance to the slightest -suggestion of a hindrance to his masculine freedom? He pondered this. - -Dan wished that women viewed men and their affairs from a more masculine -point of view. He wished that they did not have such a tendency to -condemn without trial by jury, as it were. He deplored their prompt and -definite acting on instinct or intuition, and he wished that the girl he -might desire ardently to marry should be possessed of a modicum of the -sportsmanship of a very gallant gentleman. Why did they dislike each -other so on sight? Why did they provoke silly little tiffs over nothing -in particular; and why, when they were not on speaking terms with each -other, did they decline to avoid the embarrassment of a meeting, as men -do? Why were they controlled by their emotions? How difficult of -understanding they were! - -Well, at any rate, Tamea appeared to have a fairly well developed sense -of sportsmanship, for she had deliberately abdicated today in favor of -her rival, and Dan thought that was mighty decent of her. She had a -definite philosophy, and, it seemed to him, she could smother an active -dislike and not develop the remotest indications of a soul convulsion. -Poor child! He wondered if he had been quite kind in leaving her to -amuse herself all day at the hotel. - -He shifted his position and his hand fell, not by design, on top of -Maisie’s. Instantly her soft, warm fingers closed over it. The touch -thrilled him pleasurably; he wanted to hold Maisie’s hand, so soft and -small and fragile; he did not want her to hold his. So he removed his -hand from hers and she drew away from him. - -“Ah, don’t,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean that,” and his arm went up and -around her neck, deliberately, possessively. She leaned toward him and -he felt her tremble. “This has been a wonderful, wonderful day,” he said -huskily. “It’s been one of those rare days that upthrust themselves for -years in one’s dearest memories. You’re such a bully little comrade, -Maisie. I’m getting quite wild about you, dear,” and he kissed her -tenderly on the cheek closest to him and patted the other cheek. - -Her eyes were starry with love; she snuggled closer to him and laid her -head in the hollow of his shoulder. “I’m glad you wanted to play with me -today, old dear,” she whispered. “I’ve been so happy. I was afraid, when -I heard Mark Mellenger had left early this morning, that you would -attempt the impossible task of spreading yourself over too much -territory. I don’t think I could have stood more than nine holes with -Tamea along for a gallery.” - -“Score one for Tamea there,” he blurted undiplomatically. “She declined -to come with us.” - -She raised her head and looked out of the window. “Oh,” she breathed, -“so you _did_ ask her!” - -He was suddenly annoyed. “No, I did not, Maisie. She was the first to -suggest that I take you golfing.” - -“Indeed! What magnanimity! I wonder why.” - -“She said she had some letters to write.” - -“Her letters could have waited. She had some other reason. I do not -relish being the recipient of her—of her—forbearance and generosity. -I’ll not be patronized by that barbarian.” - -He was furious. “I’m sorry you mentioned her name,” he retorted. “_I_ -have carefully refrained all day long from doing so.” - -“Why?” - -“Maisie, that eternal ‘why?’ of yours grows provoking. You make me feel -like a cadaver on a dissecting table.” - -“You’re mixed in your metaphor, my dear Dan,” she replied with a small -clink of ice in her tones. “Your statement that you have carefully -refrained, all day long, from mentioning Tamea’s name to me seems to -imply an impression on your part that such mention would be distasteful -to me. I have a normal, healthy feminine curiosity, so I asked you why. -If one would ascertain information, one must make inquiries, I’m sure.” - -“Well, you didn’t mention her name, and that seemed a bit queer. I -merely bowed to what I gathered was your unspoken wish.” - -“How silly! Why, I didn’t refer to the girl today because I never once -thought of her today—until just now. Why should I think of her? She -doesn’t interest me in the least, Dan.” - -“I’m glad to know that. I had a sneaking impression she did interest -you—vitally.” - -“You amazing man! Now, why should she?” - -“There you go,” he declared furiously, “driving me into a corner and -forcing me to say crazy things so you will not have to say them. How -like a woman!” - -She laughed softly. Evidently she was enjoying his discomfiture -immensely. “Don’t evade the issue, Dan. Why did you have that sneaking -impression that Tamea did interest me—vitally?” - -“Well, after that night Mel was up to dinner—that was a bit awkward, -you know. And you two do not like each other.” - -“If you mean that I decline to fall on that young hussy’s neck and make -over her——” - -“Don’t call her a hussy, Maisie. That doesn’t sound like you, and -besides, she isn’t a hussy. She’s a poor, lonely, misunderstood young -girl and——” - -“And making desperate love to you,” Maisie taunted him. - -“Well,” he chuckled, “that doesn’t annoy me particularly. In fact I feel -complimented.” Maisie winced. There was a note of sincerity in his tone -that robbed it of any hint of badinage. Dan continued: “The fact that -she is making desperate love to me—it would be useless and stupid to -endeavor to hide that fact—seemed to me to constitute sufficient ground -for my suspicion that you would prefer not to discuss her.” - -Maisie turned abruptly and faced him with wide, curious eyes. There was -cleverly simulated amusement in those sea-blue orbs, and Dan’s train of -thought running his single-track mind was completely ditched. - -“Indeed, Dan, my dear old friend, what possible interest could I have in -anything Tamea does—with you or any other man? You say you are -complimented. Perhaps you may even be delighted. I’m sure I do not know, -and I’m not sufficiently interested to inquire. It hasn’t occurred to me -to take you or Tamea or your love-making at all seriously.” - -He was crushed. “I see I’ve made a star-spangled monkey of myself,” he -said gloomily. - -“Oh, say not so, old boy!” Maisie bantered. She had him down in his -corner now; a little more battering and he would be counted out. “Have -you been indulging in some day-dreams, Dan?” - -He nodded, and she laid her little hand on his forearm with an adorable -look of simulated interest, tenderness and banter. With a fascinating -uplift and outthrust of her lovely chin, Maisie said: “Tell Auntie about -it.” - -“Oh, don’t annoy me. You’re a most provoking woman.” - -“Do please tell, Dan’l. I’m that cur’ous.” - -“Well, I suppose I might as well. It appears I have laid the flattering -unction to my soul that you loved me.” - -“Yes?” Maisie barely cooed the word. - -“And you do not.” - -“How do you know, old snarleyow?” - -“I’m not exactly feeble-minded.” - -“No, indeed. I think you’re a high-grade moron. At least, you act like -one. Now, I want to know how you could possibly have gathered the -impression that I am in love with you.” - -“I cannot answer that query, Maisie. I only know that very recently I -began to think you did.” - -“You take too much for granted, Dan. Why didn’t you ask me to make -certain?” - -“It’s not too late, Maisie.” He was desperate—afraid of Tamea and what -might happen to him if he did not forestall her by some definite -strategy—fearful of being “spoofed” so outrageously by Maisie for a -minute longer. In her present mood, half childish, half devilish, wholly -womanish, Maisie held a tremendous lure for him. Indeed, the environment -was ideal for such a situation. There was the blue sea out beyond them, -with the white waves breaking on a white beach; their little subdued -thunder as they broke, and then the mournful swish as the broken water -raced up the shingle, had a particularly soothing effect upon him. It -stimulated his imagination. On the mountains to their right the blue -sunset haze still lingered; cock quails were calling to their families -to “Come right home, come right home,” and somewhere over in the -chapparal a cowbell tinkled melodiously. Why, the man who could ride -with Maisie Morrison in such surroundings and not feel his pulse throb -with desire for love and contentment was fit for treason, stratagems and -spoils. - -With a mighty sigh he said: “Well, Maisie, do you?” - -Alas! The blundering idiot had neglected to postulate his monumental -query with a plain, blunt assertion of his own love for her. Maisie, -being what she was, could never by any possibility admit anything now. -She would not have him think of her in the years to come as a brazen -woman who had proposed to him—that she had been at all _gauche_. So she -looked him coolly in the eyes with a glance that did not conceal the -fact that she was irritated profoundly; with a certain silky waspishness -she gave him his answer. - -“Well, not particularly, Dan.” - -Fell a silence. Maisie, glancing sidewise at her victim, observed him -gulp. There was a momentary flush and then Dan took up the annunciator -and said very distinctly to Graves: - -“Step on it, Graves. I think the county motorcycle officer has gone home -to dinner. At any rate, if we’re arrested I’ll pay the fine.” - -Graves nodded and the car leaped to forty-five miles an hour. “I have a -special arrangement with Graves,” Dan continued, turning to Maisie as -calmly as if his heart were beating at its normal rate of seventy-six, -full and strong. “Unless instructions to the contrary are given him, his -orders from me are to obey the traffic laws. If he is arrested in the -absence of such instructions to the contrary, he pays his own fine. -Under any other circumstances, I pay it.” - -“Fair enough,” Maisie answered, with a near approach to slang which, -coming from her, was rather delightful. To herself she said: “What a -charming old idiot he is! I’ve gotten him quite fussed and he is in a -hurry to get back to the hotel so he can go to his room and sulk. Well, -he almost proposed that time. I wonder if I wasn’t just a little bit too -feminine with him. I had an opportunity and failed to take advantage of -it. . . . Oh well, he shall propose again before the night is over, and -this time. . .” - -Dan was humming a crazy little lumber-jack song: - - Oh, the Olson boys they built a shingle mill, - They built it up on the side of a hill, - They worked all night and they worked all day, - And they tried to make the old mill pay. - And—by heck—they couldn’t! - - So the Olson boys just took that shingle mill, - And turned it into a whisky still; - They worked all night and they worked all day, - And tried to make the old still pay. - And—by heck—they done it! - -The golden moment had, indeed, passed. Maisie made one heroic attempt at -a rally. “Well?” she queried. - -“Well, what?” Dan demanded. - -“What we were discussing a moment ago.” - -“I make a motion that we lay that motion on the table, Maisie.” - -“The motion’s denied.” - -“Well, a motion to lay on the table is not debatable. The question must -be put to a vote. All those in favor of laying on the table will vote -aye. Contrary minded—no!” - -“No!” said Maisie. - -“Aye!” boomed Daniel. “The ayes have it and it is so ordered.” - -“Steam roller tactics,” Maisie protested and laughed to conceal her -chagrin. She had obeyed the instinct of her sex, which is to flee from -the male, even while obsessed with the desire to be overtaken. She had -yielded to the feminine impulse to chastise him for his clumsiness in -love-making, to play with him awhile, as a cat plays with a mouse, -before claiming the poor victim. She wanted him to be rough and -resolute, to thrust aside her protestations and claim her by brute force -and the right of discovery. She was very happy and she had desired to -linger a brief moment in the afterglow of her decision to surrender to -him—before surrendering. She wanted to be deferred to, to have him -plead with her for her love, to deluge her with a swift avalanche of -love words. How could she confess her yearning for him until he had laid -at her feet the wondrous burden of his own great love and asked her, -humbly, to accept the gift in exchange for her own? - -Maisie had never really had a sweetheart before. She was a girl of the -type that has a cool habit of keeping amorous youths at arm’s length. -Unlike so many of her girl friends, she could not bear to be pawed over -by youths who failed to arouse in her the slightest interest. She had -never sought conquest for the sake of conquest, although all of her life -she had hugged to her heart an ideal of love. She would marry the one -great love of her life, and having married, she would devote her life to -making her husband happy and comfortable. She would bear children for -him; she would keep herself young and fresh; she would not do any of the -stupid things she frequently observed young matrons in her set doing to -their husbands—driving them crazy by daily, almost hourly, demands for -renewed, fervid assurances of undying love; tagging after them always, -herding them in, cutting them off from healthy association with other -harassed males, protesting against everything not connected with the -office and the home. - -For Maisie was, without anybody close to her remotely suspecting it, a -tremendously romantic young woman. She yearned with a great yearning to -be wooed by a romantic lover who was fifty per cent slave and fifty per -cent Prince Charming. Long before she had ever fallen in love with Dan -Pritchard she had fallen in love with love; hence her automatic -resentment of Dan Pritchard’s peculiar approach to the Great Adventure. -Having shyly hidden within herself all her life, how could she expose -her heart to Dan merely to satisfy his accursed curiosity? What -assurance had she that he would, in turn, expose his heart to her? -Moreover, wasn’t it his first move, the monumental _omadhaun_! Maisie -smiled sweetly, but what she really wanted to do to Dan Pritchard was to -slap him furiously and then cry herself to silence and forgiveness in -his arms. - -“Well, pride comes before a fall,” Dan answered her lugubriously. - -“You weren’t so _very_ proud,” Maisie assured him, with a forgiving -glance. - -“Perhaps. But that didn’t soften my fall.” - -“I think perhaps you were quite within your rights in asking,” she -pursued eagerly. “You’ve known me so long and we’ve always been such -good pals, I suppose you concluded——” - -“Yes, yes,” he interrupted. “I’m so glad you understand. Well, I’ll not -embarrass you again, my dear. You’re much too sweet and lovely to have -my silly action of a few minutes ago cast a shadow over our perfect -friendship.” - -“I’ll have to propose to him after all,” Maisie thought. And she would -have done it if a car hadn’t come up behind them and with a hoarse toot -warned them of a desire to pass. Maisie could not bring herself to speak -at that moment. One does not desire to hint of one’s love to the -accompaniment of a motor siren. And to complicate matters Graves glanced -back quickly, measured at a glance the speed limit of the following car, -and proceeded to run away from it. This infuriated the driver of the -other car, who in turn speeded up and continued to honk at them until -Graves turned in at the entrance to the hotel grounds and, before Maisie -could renew the conversation, had paused before the portals of the hotel -and was standing beside the car holding the door open. - -As Dan helped her out of the limousine she squeezed his hand and favored -him with a look of abject adoration. - -“I know, dear,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have presumed. It is sweet of -you to forgive me.” - -Maisie ran quickly to her room, cast herself upon her bed and sought -surcease from her rage and chagrin in that soothing form of feminine -comfort known as “a good cry.” Indeed, she wept so long and so hard that -she decided she was too red and swollen of eye and nose to venture forth -where Tamea would see her. So she sent down word by her maid that she -had developed a severe headache, as a result of the hard day in the sun, -and would have dinner in her room. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - -Tamea, secretly delighted at Maisie’s misfortune, expressed to Mrs. -Casson and Dan a concern about Maisie which she was far from feeling. -Maisie had had him all day, and it had been Tamea’s generous thought to -abandon the evening to her rival. However, since fate had willed -otherwise, she decided promptly to make the most of her opportunity. -After dinner she managed to locate a bridge game with one partner -missing. The players were acquaintances of Mrs. Casson’s and it was no -trick at all for Tamea to steer her chaperon into this vacancy; -whereupon she took Dan’s arm and wandered with him down into the art -gallery. There was nothing in the art gallery that Dan could cheer for, -and Tamea quickly discovered this. Almost before he knew it, she had him -outside and was walking him through the scented starlit night down the -road toward Monterey Bay. - -As they walked Tamea attempted no conversation. Instinctively she -realized that Dan did not want that. He had something on his mind and it -was depressing him. What he needed, therefore, was love and sympathy and -song; whereat Tamea twined her long soft fingers in his, swung his hand -as they walked and commenced softly, very softly, to sing a song of -Riva. It must have been a love song, for although Dan Pritchard could -not understand a word of it, yet in the soft succession of syllables he -caught a hint of passion, of longing, of pathos. . . . Once when, -apparently, Tamea had a half rest in her music, she raised his hand to -her lips before resuming her crooning love lullaby. - -They came to a wooden bench on a low bluff, against which the waves beat -at extreme high tides. They sat down, Tamea still holding Dan’s hand. -She released it long enough for him to light a cigar, then she drew his -arm around her neck and laid her cheek against his. She continued to -sing and like a modern Circe she wove her spell about him. - -Suddenly she ceased, placed one hand on his cheek and tilted his face -toward her. - -“_Chéri_,” she whispered, “I love you with all my heart and soul.” - -He stared at her incredulously. He seemed to be thinking of something -else—and he was. He was thinking how different—this—from his -experience of that afternoon with Maisie. - -“But,” Tamea continued sadly, and let her hand fall back into her lap, -“my _chéri_ does not love his Tamea. She is half Kanaka.” - -“Hush, child,” he admonished. “I have never thought of you as anything -save as one of God’s most glorious creations.” - -“But,” Tamea persisted, “it makes a great difference—to be half Kanaka. -It makes a great difference to a white man like you.” - -“It doesn’t make the slightest difference, sweetheart,” he cried, and -wondered why he had called her sweetheart. His heart was pounding now, -there was a drumming in his ears, he was atremble with the trembling -that had shaken him as a zephyr shakes the leaves of a forest that -evening on the Moorea after old Gaston had departed for Paliuli and the -girl had clung to him, weeping and despairing. “You’re wonderful, -glorious,” he continued, his words outpouring in a sort of rapturous -jumble and mumble, and swept her into his arms. Their lips met. . . -Tamea could kiss. - -“Then you love your Tamea—truly, dear one?” she whispered finally. - -“I adore you.” - -“And you will not wed Maisie, even though you are engaged to her?” - -“I am not engaged to Maisie and never have been. What’s more, I never -shall be, Tamea. No man could marry a more wonderful woman than Maisie, -but unfortunately for me, Maisie isn’t the least bit in love with me.” - -Tamea started, drew away from him and eyed him wonderingly. - -“You are wrong, dear one. Maisie adores you.” - -He shook his head. “I asked her—once,” he explained. “She assured me -she did not.” - -“She assured you of that which is not true, Dan Pritchard. Now why -should she do this? The women of your country are strange women, love of -my heart. They deny that which they feel. They pretend to be interested -in that which bores them. They desire a husband, yet they shrink from -taking him, even after he has looked upon them with the look that no -true woman should mistake. - -“I do not understand this. I wanted you, dear one, and when you looked -upon me with favor I came to you. And I am very happy—so happy, -perhaps, that when we are married and I have borne children for you, I -may forget that I am not exactly that which you would wish me to be. - -“But I shall learn, dear one. And I shall obey my lord because he is my -master and I love him.” - -He stood up and held her tightly to his heart that was pounding so -madly, so rapturously. He rained kisses on her upturned flower face, and -the perfume of her glorious hair was as myrrh and incense to him. -“You’ve bewitched me, Tamea,” he muttered hoarsely. “Come, let us go -back to the hotel. Come!” - -They went. Tamea knew better than to oppose a man. She knew that men -love best the women who give them their own way, who do not seek to -restrain or discipline or mold them to their own desires. Daughter of a -race that would disappear before emerging from the condition of family -life where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage for the -avoidance of sin and the preservation of property rights, Tamea was -following woman’s truest and most primitive instinct. She was ruling by -love and not by the sad and silly principle that possession is nine -points of the law. - -Young as she was, Tamea was a fully developed woman, watchful, -observant, philosophical, courageous, resourceful; she had the gift, -rare in a woman, of initiative and instantaneous power of decision. -Gaston of the Beard had richly endowed her with the treasures of his -massive mind. She realized that she had swept Dan Pritchard off his -feet, that he was her slave, but that his servitude was not as yet -wholly voluntary. And she knew why. He was mentally hobbled by the -knowledge of her island blood and a vision of Maisie Morrison. - -But Tamea was not dismayed. She had faith in her power—in the power of -love—to make him forget both. In the belief that he had been pledged to -Maisie she had decided gallantly to surrender him to Maisie that day. -She had told herself that if Maisie desired him, then, that day, she -would make certain of him, and if she did not, then was she a fool. -Well, she had not closed her deal, wherefore here was a fair field and -no favor. Tamea told herself that she had acted with a degree of -sportsmanship pleasing to Dan; and now, when from Dan’s own lips she -learned that Maisie had denied her love for him, Tamea had promptly -renewed the campaign; like a good soldier she had taken the offensive -and, as usually occurs in offensive campaigns, she had won. She had felt -Dan Pritchard’s wild kisses on her lips, her cheek, her hair, and she -was content. - -Had Tamea been more conversant with Nordic custom, had she even a remote -conception of the holding power of the marriage vow even in a land where -thinking people speak learnedly of a divorce problem, she would have -urged upon Dan the desirability of motoring into Monterey that night and -getting married. It is probable that she would have urged this anyhow -had she the slightest fear of Maisie as a rival. All anxiety on that -point had now disappeared, however; on the morrow she would set herself -to the task of making friends with Maisie. . . . Meanwhile, if her -heart’s desire persisted in striding back to the hotel without speaking -to her, who was she to obtrude upon his mood? Instinctively she realized -that men resent intrusions upon their moods of depression or deep -thoughtfulness. Her father had been like that. - -A white bench, gleaming through the cypress and fir trees down a path -that led off at right angles, caught her eye. She steered him toward it, -but he balked and shook his head in negation. - -“You will come, dear one,” Tamea cooed. - -“No, no,” he cried huskily. “Do not tempt me, Tamea.” And he moved a few -feet. When he looked back she was standing where he had left her and her -arms were outstretched to him. “No, I tell you,” he protested, and -hurried away from her. So Tamea walked down the little path and sat down -on the bench to await his return. - -He returned to her. She knew he would. - -“You are thinking, dear one, of what your friend Mellengair said to you -about me,” she challenged. “You are thinking of the danger to a great -white man to mate with a half-breed Kanaka.” - -“Please,” he pleaded. “I wasn’t thinking of that at all.” - -“Then you were wondering what Maisie would think—what she will say when -you tell her how it is with us two.” - -“I—I do not think I shall tell her—yet.” - -Tamea’s breast heaved and her dark eyes flashed. “Then I will tell her, -Dan. What have we to conceal? Maisie means nothing in my young life,” -she added, tossing in a colloquialism she had picked up, the Lord knows -where. “Why do you fear?” - -“I do not fear.” - -“I am glad to hear you say so. I should not love you if you were afraid -of anything.” - -“Ah, but I am afraid of something, Tamea dear. I am afraid I do not love -you, with a sufficiently great love to marry you. Perhaps that which I -think is love is not really love, but passion.” - -She laughed softly. Such fine distinctions were too difficult for her to -fathom. “What is love without passion?” she protested, “and what an -unlovely thing would be passion without love. Fear not, beloved. All is -well with that dear heart of yours, and even if it should be that you do -not love me too well—that some day your love should grow cold and you -should leave me—still would I ask of you tonight all the love of which -you are capable. Is it not better to have known a little happiness than -none at all? I think so. For look you, dear one. When the parting -comes—if come it should as Mellengair foretold that night—you will -leave me as you came to me—in love. What manner of fool is the woman -who would strive to hold a man whose love has grown cold and dim like -the stars at dawn? When you weary of me, Dan Pritchard, you will tell -me; then, because I shall always love you, I will prove my love; I will -send you away with a smile and a kiss. Ah, sweetheart, will that day -ever come? I think not. I think I shall never grow old or stale or -intolerable to you.” - -“Never,” he promised, profoundly touched by her sweetness, her candor -and amazing magnetism. “You are driving me mad with longing for you, -Tamea.” - -“And I am driving you mad against your will?” - -He nodded. - -Tamea actually chuckled, took his none too handsome, solemn face between -her two palms and looked at him long, earnestly and impersonally, as one -looks at an infant. She appeared to be puzzling something out in her -unspoiled mind. - -“Such men as have sought me heretofore,” she said presently—“and I have -not been without attraction to several—have desired me—well, you -understand. There was that in their eyes that frightened me or disgusted -me and I would have none of them. I could read their hearts. They said -of me: ‘Ah, here is a half-caste maid. She is like the others—a -trusting, silly half-caste, without pride or dignity. I will amuse -myself with her.’ But you are different, _chéri_. It is not a woman you -seek, but a woman with a soul. I think I love you best because you are a -gentleman. I have not had many advantages, but something calls out in me -here”—she beat her breast—“to be different, that I may be beloved by -such as you.” - -He murmured helplessly: “Well, I’ll be damned!” - -“Possibly. Your white world is a strange world, with many things and -many customs that damn one—particularly a woman. Yet would I follow you -to damnation. Would you follow me?” - -“I don’t know, Tamea. It requires courage for a white man to quarrel -with his white world—that is, such a white man as am I. Some of us -choose unhappiness rather than affront our world, you know.” - -“Yes, I think I understand. That is your Christian religion. It teaches -strange things, such as duty, and the battle against sin. It is -something that makes one unhappy, uncertain, filled with many fears. It -causes men and women to be unhappy in this life that they may be happy -in a life to come. The missionary’s wife in Riva explained it to me—and -I laughed. I told her I would be happy in this, the only life I know I -shall know, and she grew angry and said I was a hopeless heathen.” - -Tamea’s silvery little chuckle tinkled faintly on his ear like a distant -sheep bell. He hadn’t the slightest objection to spooning with Tamea, -but his natural refinement rebelled at a park bench. He felt like a -country lover; he wanted to go back to the hotel; he feared some one of -the guests might see them and start some silly gossip. - -“Let us return to the hotel,” he blurted out bluntly. “Mrs. Casson will -be wondering what has become of us.” - -Tamea raised his hand and looked at his wrist watch. “We will sit here -and talk until midnight,” she declared. “Two hours. It is little -enough.” - -“Impossible, Tamea. We will get ourselves talked about. Of course I can -stand it, but you——” - -“I can stand it too, dear Dan. Sit down, do!” - -“Tamea! Please be sensible.” - -The Queen of Riva stamped her foot. “You will place your arms around me -and speak to me of our love,” she commanded. - -He obeyed. Nevertheless, while he held her to his breast and whispered -to her warm words of love; while his heart poured forth its passion and -longing and ecstasy so poignant it was almost pain, the vision of -Mellenger obtruded. - -He was making a mistake. What his personal opinion of an alliance with -Tamea might be mattered not. His friends, the code of his class, forbade -the banns; and the realization of this brought him uneasiness and -unhappiness even in the midst of his wild happiness. He feared for the -future. Tonight the world appeared to stand still in space, but tomorrow -it would continue to revolve, and unless he took a very brave and -resolute stand, it would move on toward a tragedy. - -However, he had sufficient sense, now that he found himself involved -with this tropic wild flower, to attempt the exercise of his undoubted -power over her to the end that he might outline definite plans for her -future and secure her acquiescence in them. He reverted, therefore, to -her father’s plans for her education and reminded Tamea that he had -promised her father to see to it that the latter’s plans were carried -out. He impressed upon her the vital necessity for acquiring as much -education, knowledge of the world and refinement, as white girls of her -age. She must have music lessons, she must learn to dance, to ride, to -drive a motor-car, to manage a household, to sing, to meet his white -friends on their own social level. In a word, she must make him very -proud of her. - -Tamea agreed to obey him implicitly, but fought desperately against the -idea of a convent. She pleaded to be permitted to live at Dan’s house -and have private tutors; she reminded him that she was amply able to -afford them. When he explained to her the impossibility of this he saw -that she accepted his explanation as something irrelevant and immaterial -and decidedly peculiar. Reluctantly she abandoned her stand and sought a -compromise. If she went to a convent all week could she come home of -week-ends? Dan said she could not. Then would he come to the convent to -see her on Sundays? He promised to do this every Sunday, and thus the -momentous issue was settled. Tamea promised to enter the convent the day -after their return to San Francisco. - -This was the first long, uninterrupted confidential conversation they -had ever had. Dan was an understanding and sympathetic listener with -sufficient patience to continue answering childish questions long after -the majority of his sex would have become irritated. And Tamea asked him -hundreds of questions on an amazing variety of topics; she discussed -intimately the principal features of her own life and extracted the last -shred of information he had to give concerning himself. He observed how -clear, direct and straightforward was her method of reasoning; she had a -nicely balanced choice of words, and a fascinating habit of clothing her -odd fancies in brilliant, brief, illuminating metaphor or simile. In -those two hours when Tamea talked to him, with her head on his breast, -he really began to know her; and to the spell which her physical beauty -had cast upon him was now added an ardent admiration for her mental -equipment. She possessed none of the flightiness, frivolity or -empty-headedness of the white flapper. To her, life was something very, -very real, something to be studied, considered and not to be tasted -indiscriminately. She had inherited from her father an insatiable -yearning for information on every subject that interested her remotely. - -It was twelve-thirty before Dan, with a start, cast off his thraldom and -looked at his watch. - -“Yes, I suppose we should go in,” Tamea said softly. “I have had my -delight spoiled for half an hour in the fear that you would look at your -watch. And now you have looked at it and the suspense is over.” - -They walked slowly back to the hotel and came in the front entrance. In -the lobby of the hotel they came across Maisie reading a magazine. - -“Hello, Maisie, my dear,” said Dan, “I had an impression you had a bad -headache and had retired. If I had remotely suspected you had recovered -we would have remained to keep you company.” - -Maisie acknowledged this cheerful salutation with a forced smile. Her -eyes were cold and blue. “You must have taken a long walk, Dan. Were you -in to Monterey?” - -“No, just down to the beach and back. The night is so balmy we’ve been -sitting outside. Tamea has been asking questions and I have been -answering them.” - -“I had so many to ask,” said Tamea demurely, “that it was very late when -I finished.” She patted her mouth to stifle a little yawn. “I’m so -sleepy. Excuse me, please, Maisie. I am going to my room. Good night, -Dan, you darling. Good night, Maisie.” - -Dan escorted her to the elevator, then returned to Maisie and sat down -beside her. Said she, coolly: - -“Well, Dan, did Tamea propose to you tonight?” - -On the instant he was irritated. He scowled at Maisie who, disdaining an -answer, reached over on his left shoulder and carefully brushed away a -very noticeable white patch on the blue cloth of his coat. - -“I’ve told Tamea several times not to use so much powder,” she -complained. - -Dan was aware that he was flushing very noticeably. When Maisie spoke -again the flush deepened. - -“Aren’t you too old for that sort of thing—with that sort of -semi-developed girl, Dan?” - -He knew that Maisie, coming downstairs for some purpose earlier in the -evening and learning from her aunt that he and Tamea had strolled away -together, had decided to sit where she could keep watch over both -entrances and await their return. What business had she spying upon -them? He was distinctly irritated. - -“I must confess, Maisie, I do not relish——” he began, but Maisie -interrupted him. - -“Oh, I dare say you’re thinking I’m an old snooper and that this is none -of my business. I’d be prepared to admit that if you had not asked me to -look after the child here. If you wish to have yourselves talked about, -why then, spooning around the hotel grounds until twelve-thirty o’clock -is a very good way.” - -“Tamea is perfectly safe with me,” he defended, “and you ought to know -it.” - -“I do. With any woman you have as much boldness as a canary bird, my -dear. What I object to, Dan, is the fact that you are not perfectly safe -with Tamea, and we might as well have an understanding regarding her now -as later. If you’re to be her guardian you cannot afford to let her vamp -you. As one of your very oldest and dearest friends I’m going to take -the liberty of painting you a picture of the future. I feel certain you -cannot see the future clearly, Dan, or else you refuse to see it. May I -speak very plainly, Dan?” - -“What’s the use, Maisie? Mel has already painted me the same picture and -I disagree with his color tones. I think I know what I am doing and I -think, also, that one of the rarest gifts God ever grants to civilized -woman is a nicely balanced diplomacy. They have too much or too little.” - -It was Maisie’s turn to flush now—with embarrassment and anger. The -flush departed, leaving her pale and trembling. “The first bearer of -unwelcome news hath but a losing office,” she forced herself to say. -“Are you driving back to town in the morning, Dan?” - -He nodded. - -“I think it would be just as well if you took Tamea with you,” Maisie -continued icily. “Aunt and I will remain here for a few weeks. I do not -feel quite up to the task of helping you with Tamea when you decline to -help me to help you to help her.” - -“Oh, Maisie, I’m sorry——” - -“Of course you are. And you’ll be much sorrier some day, old dear. I may -not have much of a gift for diplomacy, Dan, but it does not require the -gift of second sight to see that you are madly infatuated with this -girl, and common sense is as far from an infatuated man as the north -pole from the south. When you come to your senses send for me—should -you feel that you need me. Meanwhile—good night and—good-by until we -meet again.” - -He was furious. He had assimilated smilingly one terrific blow from -Maisie within the past twelve hours and now he was forced to assimilate -another. He rose and bowed to Maisie with polite frigidity. - -“You are perfectly right, Maisie,” he assured her. “I am, beyond -question, the most monumental ass in all California. Fortunately for -both of us, I was just about to inform you that Tamea has consented to -enter a convent immediately; consequently she no longer assumes the -proportions of a white elephant to both of us. I shall take her home -with me tomorrow and place her in school the day after. I am deeply -grateful to you for all that you have done for me in this emergency, -Maisie, and I am sincerely sorry my conduct has been displeasing to you. -It has been eminently satisfactory to myself! Good night and—since I -shall not see you before I leave tomorrow morning—_au revoir_. When I -need you again I shall not, however, send for you. I am already too deep -in your debt. Good night.” - -Maisie managed her leave-taking admirably. A little nod, a cold and -twisted smile—and she was gone. The instant the elevator deposited her -on her floor, however, she fairly ran to her room, nor did she observe -that the door to Tamea’s room was opened ever so little; that Tamea’s -eye was at that crack and that the tears that rained down Maisie’s -cheeks had not escaped that keen scrutiny. - -“I am right,” Tamea soliloquized as she switched off her bedside lamp -and slipped into bed. “Maisie loves him. She was too sure of him and -that is a mistake. No woman should be too sure of any man because all -men are children. After I left Dan with her they quarreled. That is -well. Dan is not ashamed of me, then. Now Maisie weeps. That is well, -too.” - -The telephone tinkled faintly and Tamea took down the telephone. - -“How do you do?” said Tamea cordially into the mouthpiece. - -“Dan speaking, Tamea. I am going back to San Francisco tomorrow morning -and you are to accompany me.” - -“But Maisie and her aunt remain here?” - -“Yes. How did you know?” - -“I am a very wonderful girl. I am smart—yes, you bet.” Her triumphant, -musical little chuckle was soothing to his scarred soul. - -“Julia will be in your room at six o’clock to awaken you and pack your -suitcase and trunk. Good night, my dear.” - -“I kiss you once—for luck,” said Tamea and smacked her lips loudly. -Then she hung up, snuggled down in bed and fell asleep almost instantly. -She had started the day with a handicap, but her finish had been -magnificent and she was well content. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - -Tamea was awakened by Julia at six o’clock. At seven she and Dan -breakfasted together; at seven-thirty they entered Dan’s limousine, the -smiling Julia tucked the robe in around her charge, took her seat beside -Graves, and the homeward hegira began. At San José they looked in on the -Mother Superior of a splendid convent that catered to the educational -needs of young ladies of high school age, and Dan made arrangements to -enter Tamea there the following day. - -And this he did. Tamea had quite a wild weeping spell at the parting and -Dan had to promise to write to her daily. Then the necessity for -abandoning Julia was provocative of another outburst of grief, and to -add to the complications this proof of devotion so touched Julia, all -unused to such appreciation, that she wept loudly and copiously and was -pathetically homely after two minutes of it. Dan, aware that all -incoming and outgoing mail would be censored at this convent, realized -that he, faced daily the awful task of composing an innocuous little -letter to Tamea, and he was troubled with the thought that Tamea might -not understand and go into open revolt as a result. - -Finally the ordeal was over and Dan motored back to San Francisco. Here -he discovered that there was trouble in the Seattle office of Casson and -Pritchard and that it was necessary for him to go there at once. He -welcomed the opportunity. Promptly he wrote Tamea that he was called -away, but that he would telegraph her every day while he was traveling. -Telegraphing was so much easier than writing under a handicap. Surely -Tamea would understand that he could not afford to call her endearing -names by wire. She must realize that men of his class did not do that -sort of thing. - -He was gone two weeks. Graves met him at the ferry depot upon his -return. - -“I’m glad you’ve returned, sir,” Graves announced. “The fur has been -flying since you left. Mrs. Pippy gave Julia the air the minute you and -Miss Larrieau were out of the house, so Julia beat it down to the -convent and reported to Miss Larrieau. Up comes Miss Larrieau from the -convent and tells Mrs. Pippy where to head in, and there’s a grand row. -Mrs. Pippy calls on Sooey Wan to give Julia the bum’s rush out of the -house and Sooey Wan tells her to go to Halifax or some other seaport. -Then Mrs. Pippy cries and Julia cries and Sooey Wan cusses like a pirate -and Miss Larrieau takes charge of the house and she and Sooey Wan are -running it.” - -Dan gasped. “But where is Mrs. Pippy?” - -“She must have got frightened and left, or else Miss Larrieau fired her. -Anyhow, she’s gone.” - -“Has Miss Larrieau returned to school?” - -“No, sir. I think she’s waiting until you get back.” - -Dan sighed in lieu of the words he could not muster. Here indeed, in the -expressive terminology of Graves, was “hell to pay and no pitch hot.” - -He dropped in at the office for a few minutes to look through his -accumulated mail. In it he found a formal resignation from Mrs. Pippy, -who regretted that the lack of his moral support at a time when her -position had grown untenable rendered her resignation imperative. She -informed him of the address to which he might mail her check. - -“I suppose I shall never have another Mrs. Pippy,” Dan sighed, and -added, “and I hope I never shall.” - -The moment he entered his home Tamea leaped out at him suddenly from -behind the portières where she had been hiding. “_Chéri!_” she cried and -favored him with a bone-cracking hug. “My adored one,” she added, and -delivered a barrage of osculation that left Dan quite breathless. When -he could speak he said: - -“Graves has told me of the battle which took place here during my -absence. Tamea, I am not pleased with your high-handed procedure.” - -“_P-f-f._ Dear one, that Pippy was offensive. I disliked that old woman -the first time she looked at me—like this,” and Tamea wrinkled her -adorable nose. “There was nothing else to do. She had defied me by -dismissing Julia, and this was mutiny, since Julia was mine and you had -given her to me. If the king fails to protect those who come under the -king’s protection, the people murmur and there is discontent and perhaps -revolt, is there not? My place was here to protect my servant and I came -and protected her. I have done well and you must not reprove me, dear -one. If you do I shall be very unhappy.” - -“Oh, it’s all right, it’s all right,” Dan protested. “It’s just that I -hate a beastly row. You did not secure permission from the Mother -Superior to come here?” - -“I?” the amazed girl demanded. “I—Tamea, plead for permission? You do -not know me, I think, dear one. Julia came in the car with Graves and I -left at once. At the gate the nun on watch desired to stop me. She even -laid hands upon me, but I thrust her aside. _Tiens_, I was angry!” - -“I judged as much from a letter which the Mother Superior wrote me. -Tamea, you may not return to that convent. They cannot control you and -they do not desire that you remain there longer. My dear, can you not -realize that this is very, very embarrassing to me?” - -“It is very delightful to me, darling Dan. I did not wish to remain -there. They opened your letters to me and before I could seal my letters -to you they were read. So I did not send them, but kept them all for -you. Tonight, after dinner, you shall read them, one by one. Yes, at -that convent there was much between us of what you call in this country -rough house.” - -Sooey Wan came in from the kitchen, grunted a greeting to his employer, -picked up Dan’s bags and disappeared upstairs with them. Returning, he -paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs and said: - -“Missa Dan, you fire Julia, Sooey Wan ketchum boat, go back China pretty -quick.” - -His impudence enraged Dan. “You may start now, Sooey Wan,” he told the -Celestial. “I’ll keep Julia, but you’re fired.” - -Sooey Wan looked at Tamea, who smiled and nodded to him. In effect she -said to him: “Don’t pay any attention to him, Sooey Wan. I am in command -here.” - -Sooey Wan had evidently planned for this moment. His shrill, unmirthful -cachinnation rang through the house. “Boss,” he piped, “you klazy, allee -same Missie Pip. You fire me? Pooh-pooh! No can do. Sooey Wan belong -your papa, papa give me to you, how can do? You fire me, who ketchum -dinner, eh? You klazy.” - -Again Dan sighed. It appeared that Sooey Wan’s first introduction to the -Pritchard household had been due to a tong war in Chinatown. Sooey Wan, -young, bold, aggressive, had been marked for slaughter in a tong feud, -and the high-binder whose duty it had been, for a consideration, to waft -him into the spirit world, had dropped Sooey Wan with his first shot. -Then a cane had descended upon his wrist, causing him to drop his -pistol. The peacemaker, Dan’s father, had thereupon possessed himself of -it, handed the would-be assassin over to the police and forgotten the -incident. Sooey Wan eventually recovered from his wound and at once -sought out Pritchard senior, to whom he explained that by reason of an -ancient Chinese custom he who saved a human life was forever after -responsible for that life. Therefore, it behooved Dan’s father to place -Sooey Wan on his payroll instanter, which, being done, the latter became -one of the assets of the Pritchard estate. Inasmuch as Dan had been the -sole heir to that estate, naturally, to Sooey Wan’s way of thinking, he -had inherited his father’s responsibility for Sooey Wan’s life while the -latter continued to live. _Ergo_, Sooey Wan could not be dismissed! - -Decidedly, reprisals were not in order. There was naught to do save -accept the situation gratefully, cast about for another school for Tamea -and try, try again. Dan recalled that there was a very excellent convent -in Sacramento. He would call upon the Mother Superior there, explain -Tamea at length and seek to have the censorship law repealed in so far -as she was concerned. He would offer to pay double the customary rate in -return for special treatment and forbearance in Tamea’s case. And he -would tell that infernal Julia what he thought about her—no, he would -not. If he did she would weep and when Julia wept her pathetic lack of -beauty was extraordinarily depressing. - -“Well, I’m awfully happy to see you again, sweetheart,” he said, and -favored Tamea with one hearty kiss in return for the dozens she had -showered upon him. “Any news from Maisie or her aunt?” - -“Divil a wor’rd, sor,” said Julia, coming downstairs at that moment. “I -called her up, makin’ bould enough to ax her to reason wit’ Mrs. Pippy, -sor, but she would not. Says she to me, says she: ‘Julia, there’s no -reasonin’ wit’ anybody in that household, so I’ll not be botherin’ me -poor head about them. When Misther Pritchard wants me he’ll sind for -me’.” - -“Quite so, Julia, quite so. She is absolutely right.” - -He went upstairs, bathed and changed his clothes. He intended returning -to the office, but Tamea pleaded with him to spend the remainder of the -day amusing her. So he took her to a vaudeville show, and Tamea held his -hand and, between acts, whispered to him little messages of love. Once, -when the house was dark, she leaned over and kissed him very tenderly on -the ear. Then, remembering that he held a grudge against Sooey Wan, whom -he knew would prepare a special dinner to celebrate his return, Dan -decided to take Tamea out to dinner and, deliberately, to fail to -telephone Sooey Wan. He knew that would infuriate the old Chinaman and -indicate to him that he had been reproved. - -They went to an Italian restaurant, the Fiore d’Italia, up in the Latin -quarter. It was a restaurant which was patronized nightly by the same -guests; indeed, Dan, who had a weakness for some of the toothsome -specialties of the house, had been a guest there about three times a -month for years, and Mark Mellenger had been, with the exception of -Thursday nights when he dined at Dan’s house, a nightly habitué of the -Fiore d’Italia for fifteen years. Dan had a desire to bask for an hour -in the light of Mellenger’s delightful but infrequent smile and had -chosen to take Tamea to the Fiore d’Italia in the hope of seeing him -there. - -Mellenger was just rising from his table as they entered. He greeted -them both cordially, but to Dan’s pressing invitation to sit and talk -awhile he replied that he was much too busy at the office and hurried -away. Scarcely had he gone when Grandpère, an ancient waiter who looked -for his evening tip from Mark Mellenger as regularly as evening -descended upon San Francisco, came in with an order of striped bass _à -la_ Mellenger. Dan and Tamea had seated themselves at the table vacated -by Mellenger, and Grandpère stood a moment, blinking at the vacant -chair. Then he glanced toward the peg upon which Mellenger’s wide soft -hat always hung and, finding it gone, sighed and returned to the kitchen -with the order. - -“Why, Mel left without eating!” Dan exclaimed. - -“Yes, he saw us first, dear one. He desired to spare himself the -embarrassment of having to speak too much with me,” Tamea explained. “At -Del Monte I told Mellengair some things he did not like.” - -“Oh, Tamea, how could you? He is my dearest friend.” - -She shrugged. “He told me things I did not like. We are even now. I -think I should tell you that he will not come to your house again for -dinner while I am there.” - -Again Dan sighed. Things were closing in around him. He had lost an -excellent housekeeper, his maid and his cook were in open revolt, his -best man friend avoided him and his best woman friend had quarreled with -him—and all over Tamea. The amazing part of it all was that he simply -could not quarrel with Tamea. He could only adore her and strive to -believe that it wasn’t adoration. Tamea, watching him narrowly, saw that -he had surrendered to the situation and, as was his custom, he would -forbear seeking the details of a situation repugnant to him. So she -dipped a small radish in salt and handed it to him with the air of -royalty conferring the accolade. - -There was dancing to the music of an accordion played by an Italian. He -was a genial man, with smiles for all the dancers, and very generous -with his encores. Old patrons nodded to one another across the tables, -there was much pleasant conversation and some noisy eating, for the -Fiore d’Italia was a restaurant dedicated to food rather than the -niceties of eating, and was patronized by democratic folk who held good -food to be superior to table manners. The camaraderie of the place -appealed to Tamea at once, and when presently the accordion player, -between dances, commenced to play very softly “O Sole Mio,” and an -Italian waiter who had almost attained grand opera paused with a stack -of soiled dishes on his arm and sang it, Tamea was transported with -delight. - -“We will dance, no?” she pleaded brightly. - -Dan would have preferred the bastinado, but—they danced. All eyes were -on Tamea. Who was she? Where did she come from? That was Pritchard with -her, was it not? Who was Pritchard? Zounds, that girl was a corker! How -she could dance and how she loved it! A regular Bohemian, eh? - -“You play very well, Monsieur,” Tamea complimented the musician as the -dance ceased. “Please, I would play your accordion. It is so much finer -than my own.” - -Before Dan could protest the Italian had handed her his instrument, -Tamea had seated herself and commenced to play “Blue Danube Waves.” Dan -stood, beseeching her with his eyes to cease making a spectacle of -herself and return to the table, but the spirit of carnival had entered -into Tamea and she would not be denied. She knew what Dan wanted her to -do but she would not do it. - -“Every one dance,” she commanded. “And I will play that this tired -musician may dance also. It is not fair that he should play always.” - -There was a hearty round of applause and the dancers came out on the -floor. - -“Tamea, dear, you’re making a spectacle of yourself,” Dan pleaded. - -“If you would do the same, dear one,” she replied lightly, “you would be -such a happy boy.” - -She was beating time with her foot; and when the dance was ended she -played a ballad of Riva and sang it. The Fiore d’Italia was in an uproar -of appreciation, athrill at a new sensation, as the girl handed the -accordion back to its owner, thanked him and joined Dan at their table. -Immediately all who knew Dan personally or who could rely on the -democracy and camaraderie of the place to excuse their action, came over -to be introduced to Tamea and felicitate her on her playing and singing. -Marinetti, the proprietor, was delighted, and in defiance of the -Eighteenth Amendment presented Tamea with a quart of California -champagne, which Grandpère fell upon and carried away to be frappéd. - -The girl’s face glowed with a happiness that was touching. “Here is -life, dear one,” she cried. “Why should I stifle in a convent when there -is joy and singing and dancing in your world? We will come here very -frequently, no?. . . Oh, but yes! You would not deny your Tamea the -pleasure of this beautiful place? Would you, darling Dan Pritchard? Say -no—very loud—like that—_No_.” - -“No,” he growled. - -His reward was a loving twig at his nose while those around him laughed -at his embarrassment. What a dull fellow he was to be so evidently -appreciated by such a glorious creature, they thought. Some youths among -the diners even wondered if it might not be possible to relieve him of -the source of his embarrassment! - -It was eleven o’clock when they left the Fiore d’Italia, and Tamea had -sung, danced and played her way into the hearts of the patrons to such -an extent that Dan felt he could never bear to patronize that restaurant -again. Thus he retired with the added conviction that in addition to -robbing him of his friends Tamea had now robbed him of his favorite -restaurant. Like all bachelors he was a creature of habit and resented -the slightest interference with those habits. - -The following morning he journeyed to Sacramento to arrange for Tamea’s -entrance into the convent there. To his huge disgust small-pox had -developed in the school and the convent was under quarantine. So he -returned to San Francisco and, feeling a trifle depressed at the manner -in which fate was pursuing him, he telephoned to Maisie. - -With characteristic feminine ease Maisie elected to forget that she had -been fifty per cent responsible for their disagreement at Del Monte. She -had thought the matter over, tearfully but at great length, and had come -to the conclusion that even if she was not a martyr she could not afford -to let Dan Pritchard think so. After a silence of about two weeks Dan -had a habit of ringing up and burying the hatchet, and Maisie hadn’t the -slightest doubt but that this was his mission now. She resolved to be -dignified and enjoy his suit for reëstablishment of the _entente -cordiale_. - -“Hello, Dan’l,” she answered, and her clear, cool voice sounded like -music in Dan’s ears. “Are you in trouble?” - -“I’m up to my eyebrows in it, Maisie!” - -“Oh, I’m so sorry, Dan! But then it’s no more than I expected. I thought -you’d send for me when you needed me.” - -“I do not need you!” he replied furiously, and hung up. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - -Throughout these late trying experiences Dan had been further distressed -to discover that during the hours he was unavoidably separated from -Tamea, he thought more about her than he did of his business. He had -missed her bright presence far too keenly during her brief sojourn at -the convent—so much so, in fact, that when one day he asked himself if -it were really possible that he, sober, steady, dependable, sane Dan -Pritchard, had fallen in love with this lovely half-caste girl, his -common sense assured him that it was even so. - -He told himself that this was silly, stupid, unintelligent, that he -could not afford to yield to this tremendous temptation, that it would -be a terrible mistake, bitterly to be repented. Nevertheless, he lacked -the courage or the steadfastness of purpose to take the offensive -immediately; he told himself he _would_ take the offensive, but not -immediately. . . and following his brief spat with Maisie over the -telephone he found Tamea’s society so comforting and stimulating that he -shuddered at the thought of hurting her—himself—with the promulgation -of a sophisticated argument she could not possibly understand and which -she would have rejected even had she possessed the gift of understanding -a white man’s reason for discarding her love, even while he yearned for -it. - -From time to time Sooey Wan, growing impatient at his adored employer’s -shilly-shallying, urged definite action. Again and again he reminded Dan -that the sooner he married the lady queen the sooner would his adventure -in fatherhood commence. Sooey Wan confided that he had consulted with -the most eminent magicians in Dupont Street, with a priest who was a -very wise man and an oracle; he had sought signs of approbation from his -numerous Chinese gods and had propitiated them with much burning of punk -in the Joss houses; he had burned devil papers in every room of the -house and had strung fire crackers completely around the house and set -them off, to the signal terror of the neighbors. - -The magician had predicted for Dan five brawny sons—a hard hand to -beat. The oracle had advised quick action since procrastination has ever -been the thief of time and the girl was young and comely. Why, then, -dally until she should become a hag? In his own mind Sooey Wan was fully -convinced, from certain signs, that his Mongolian gods looked with favor -upon the match, and since practically all of the fire crackers had -exploded, the old heathen was certain that the devils of bad luck, which -might or might not have interfered, had been thoroughly exorcised. - -To all of this harangue Dan gave a stereotyped reply: “Sooey Wan, you -are an interfering and impudent old Chinaman. Keep your nose out of my -private affairs.” - -Whereupon Sooey Wan would fairly screech: “Missa Dan, wh’ for you play -damn fool? Boy, you klazy. Sure you klazy.” - -When Dan discovered that he would have to mark time until the convent in -Sacramento should be released from quarantine, he pleaded the urgent -necessity for an unavoidable absence from the city and sought to start -his offensive campaign against Tamea’s steadily mounting influence over -him by going away for a two weeks’ fishing and painting excursion in -Southern California. Tamea was somewhat piqued because he did not invite -her to accompany him, but he ignored her little pout, kissed her -tenderly and fled. And he had no sooner settled himself comfortably in a -hotel at Santa Catalina Island than Maisie Morrison rang up Julia. - -“Julia,” she said, “where is Mr. Pritchard?” - -“The dear Lord only knows, Miss Morrison.” - -“I _must_ know where a telegram can reach him, Julia. Mr. Pritchard did -not tell his secretary where he was going, so it could not have been a -business trip. Put Graves on the line, Julia.” - -Graves, summoned from the garage, informed Maisie that he had driven Mr. -Pritchard to the Southern Pacific depot. There he had heard his employer -direct a porter to stow his baggage in a compartment. Included in this -impedimenta had been a case of fishing rods and a sketching outfit. -Graves had noted that his employer had not taken a creel with him, hence -he opined that if any fishing was to be done it would be sea -fishing—and the boss had always had a weakness for Santa Catalina. - -When Dan Pritchard came in from fishing that first day he found a -telegram in his box at the hotel. It was from Maisie and read: - - Something has jarred Uncle John dreadfully. He is at home ill, - but mentally, not physically. Better assure yourself that - everything is quite right at the office. Would return - immediately if I were you, although when you do you need not - bother to call on me unless you feel you really ought to. - - MAISIE. - -Within the hour Dan Pritchard had chartered a seaplane and was flying -north. About ten o’clock that night the plane swooped down in the -moonlight and landed him at Harbor View; within half an hour he was -ringing the doorbell of John Casson’s home. - -“Take me immediately to Mr. Casson’s room,” he ordered the butler who -admitted him. “It will not be necessary to announce me.” - -The man eyed him sympathetically and silently led the way upstairs. John -Casson was not in bed, however. He was seated on a divan in his wife’s -upstairs sitting room, staring dully into a small grate fire. From her -seat across the room his wife watched him furtively. - -“Good evening, Mrs. Casson. Good evening, Mr. Casson,” Dan greeted them. -“What’s gone wrong, Mr. Casson?” - -The old dandy looked up, frightened. Dan could have sworn he shuddered. -“I’d rather not discuss the matter tonight, Pritchard,” he parried. “I’m -not well.” - -“I’m sorry for that, sir. What appears to be the matter with you? Where -do you feel ill? Have you eaten something that didn’t agree with you -or——” - -“He has,” Mrs. Casson interrupted bitterly. “He’s been on a diet of -high-priced rice for the past several weeks and it has made him ill. -John, do not evade Dan’s query. He is equally interested with you in -this matter. Tell him what happened the day he left town.” - -“Well, Pritchard, my boy,” old Casson quavered, “the rice market has -gone to glory. It’s down to five cents and every rice dealer in this -city is a bankrupt.” - -“Do you include Casson and Pritchard in the cataclysm?” - -Casson nodded slowly and suddenly commenced to weep. - -“But we sold our rice——” - -“I know we did—on ninety days. Now the people we have sold it to are -wiped out and cannot pay for it. The damned Cubans are responsible. They -deliberately wrecked the market. Overnight they made up their minds they -had rice enough. The cargadores went on strike and refused to handle any -more rice. The port of Havana is glutted with rice. It’s on every dock -and on every barge. They jammed the docks with it and loaded all the -barges and then quit. Now the rice is being rained on; the ships that -brought it are lying under heavy demurrage because they cannot get -discharged; the rice brokers and wholesalers have treacherously refused -to accept delivery on bona fide orders because the Havana market broke -immediately when some frightened owners of cargoes cut their prices in -order to unload at any price. Panic, I tell you—worst rice panic -imaginable. Rice was up to twenty-one cents and overnight it broke to -five cents.” - -Dan sat down. This was exactly what he had feared might happen. The war -was ended, but profiteers, still hungry for exorbitant gains, had put -the screws on rice, the staple food of Cuba. They had cornered the crop -there, such as it was, and the crop that year had been meager. Then they -had filled Havana harbor with ships loaded with Oriental rice and had -steadily jacked the price up to the point of saturation. And then the -Cubans, maddened at this brutal and perfectly legal form of brigandage, -had sprung their coup and, overnight, had smashed their oppressors by -the very simple method of refusing to handle longer the commodity which -was so necessary to their existence. They knew they could get rice when -they needed it, and get it at their price. These ships had brought rice -to Havana; now that Havana would not accept it or handle it, where could -another ready and highly profitable market be found? And would these -ships, chafing at the delay, agree to go elsewhere with their cargoes, -save at a prohibitive freight rate? Rice freights from the Orient would -collapse now, and that collapse would be followed by a debacle in other -lines. - -In a flash Dan saw that the post-war slump had started—an economic -avalanche, traveling swiftly toward bankruptcy and ruin. “I see,” he -said quietly. “Beautiful work, beautiful. Three cheers for the Cubans. I -didn’t think they were up to a brilliant stroke like that. And now -you’re cussing them out, Mr. Casson, because they refused to let the -rice bandits take the food out of their mouths. Well, you deserve this, -Mr. Casson, but I’ll be hanged if I do. You dragged me into this, -without my knowledge or consent—you damned, silly, egotistical, -brainless idiot—Mrs. Casson, I forgot you were present. I crave your -pardon for my rudeness and I shall not again offend. -I—I—think—I—shall—sit down.” - -He did, looking quite white and strained. His eyes burned like live -coals. “Well, Mr. Casson,” he said presently, “suppose we start in at -the beginning. To begin with, we had half a million bags of California -rice stored in warehouses here and there, and you hypothecated the -warehouse receipts and bought Philippine and Chinese rice. Well, we sold -our rice in warehouse at a huge profit, half cash, balance in ninety -days. How about Banning and Company, who bought it?” - -“The chief clerk telephoned me today that they had filed a petition of -voluntary bankruptcy. They must be cleaned out because Banning blew his -brains out an hour after filing the petition. He had half a million -dollars’ worth of life insurance, without an anti-suicide clause in it. -His family will doubtless get that. I suppose he wanted to do the decent -thing.” - -“Well,” said Dan, “Banning and Company jarred us but they didn’t put us -down. Lucky for us I sold that Shanghai rice, ex. steamer Chinook, for -cash. You raved at my idiocy when I made an eight thousand dollars’ -profit on that deal and accused me of throwing away a potential profit -of a quarter of a million dollars. As a matter of fact, I threw away a -potential loss of about a million dollars. We’ll take a loss of more -than a dollar a bag on that million bags of California rice, however. -I’ll tell ’em you’re a smart business man, Mr. Casson. Well, how about -that eight thousand tons at Manila—the lot we sold to Katsuma and -Company at the market, against sight draft with bill of lading attached, -payable at the Philippine National Bank?” - -“Our Manila agent cabled that the bank had refused to honor the -documents. I called up Katsuma and tried to get him to do something -about providing funds or a credit to meet that draft, but he wouldn’t or -couldn’t——” - -“Katsuma didn’t want to. He was up to the usual Jap trick—running out -from a losing game. They never stand for their beating. You made him a -price, f.o.b. Havana, that included cost, insurance and freight, did you -not?” - -Old Casson nodded miserably. - -“Well, Katsuma got a notion that shipping rice to Havana was apt to lead -to great grief, so he just didn’t meet the draft. That keeps the owners -of the Malayan out of their freight money and the chances are they will -not permit the vessel to sail until the freight is paid. Did they come -back on us for the freight?” - -“They did. I paid it, and the Malayan is at sea with a cargo of eight -thousand tons of rice fully insured but not paid for. It is going to -cost us eighteen cents a pound to deliver that rice in Havana, and when -it gets there we cannot deliver it. If we do it will be worth what we -can get for it—say three to five cents—and the demurrage on the -Malayan will be two thousand dollars a day. Of course we have a suit -against Katsuma and Company for breach of contract, but in the meantime -we have to pay for the rice and I’ve given a ninety-day draft on London -for that——” - -“When it comes due we will not be able to meet it,” Dan said dully. “The -Katsuma assets are already nicely sequestrated. You monumental jackass! -Why didn’t you sue and attach their bank account, everything they have, -quietly and without notice, the instant you learned they had repudiated -their contract?” - -“That would be a great deal like locking the stable door after the horse -had been stolen, wouldn’t it, Pritchard?” - -Dan nodded. This was the first bright thing he could remember Casson -having said in years. Yes, the wily Orientals had seen the storm -gathering and had fled to their cyclone cellar, caring not a whit what -happened to others, to their own business honor, to their business, -provided their capital remained intact. They could always organize again -under a new name. - -“Well, we’ve been sent to the cleaners, Mr. Casson. You have succeeded -magnificently, despite all I could do to thwart you. You have made a -hiatus of your own life and mine. You’ve smashed your wife and Maisie. -You were drowning; I tried to save you and you pulled me under with you. -Well, I don’t know what you intend doing with your private fortune—if -you have any, which I doubt—but I have assets close to two million -dollars and our creditors can have them. As your partner I am jointly -and severally responsible. If you cannot pay, I must. I shall. When the -squall hits us we will call a meeting of our creditors, tell them how it -happened, have a receiver appointed, turn over everything we have to him -and quit business with whatever dignity we can muster.” - -He turned to Mrs. Casson. “If you will excuse me, Mrs. Casson, I will go -now. Good night.” - -He went out into the hall and his head hung low on his heaving breast, -his shoulders sagged, his arms dangled loosely from his long, raw-boned -frame. He shook his head a little and mumbled something—curses, -doubtless. At the bottom of the stairs he ran into Maisie. Her face was -very white and she had been weeping. - -“Thanks for your telegram, Maisie. I came as fast as I could. It’s too -late. Cleaned—cleaned—smashed by that madman—crooked as a can of -worms—lucky thing I didn’t ask you to marry me that day—lucky for you -you weren’t interested in my proposition. I couldn’t afford that luxury -now, my dear. It’s terrible to have made two million dollars doing work -one loathes, then lose the two million filthy dollars and have to start -in doing the loathsome job all over again. - -“Well, I’m young—I suppose I can stand it. Good night, Maisie, good -night. Sorry for you and Mrs. Casson—mighty sorry.” - -He fended away the imploring, uplifted arms that sought to enfold him, -for Maisie, like all women who trifle with a man’s heart when he is -prosperous and happy, desired to claim that heart now that it was -bruised and broken. - -“Don’t—please—I can’t stand it—don’t want to be coddled,” he -muttered, and strode past her to the door. It opened and closed after -him swiftly, and Maisie, standing on the steps, watched through her -tears his tall, ungainly form stumbling down the street. She yearned -with a great yearning to run after him, to take that white face to her -heart, to whisper to him a torrent of love words, to cherish and comfort -him. Yet she knew that Dan, like all men, when cruelly hurt, preferred -to be alone, resenting sympathy and desiring silence. - -“Poor dear,” she murmured, “when you have recovered a little from the -shock of this failure I shall go to you and nothing shall keep you from -me.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - -Dan walked home. He had to have physical action. It was close to -midnight when he let himself into his house, but there was a dim light -burning in the living room and Dan turned in here, cast his hat and coat -on top of the piano and rang savagely for Sooey Wan, who, having just -returned from his nightly pilgrimage to Chinatown, answered on the jump. -At sight of Dan’s pale, tortured face the old Chinaman turned and fled -to the kitchen. He returned presently bearing a siphon bottle, some ice, -a bottle of Scotch whisky and—two glasses. Silently he mixed two -highballs, handed one to Dan, took the other himself, sat down and said -in a voice of compelling gentleness: - -“Missa Dan, you tellum ol’ Sooey Wan. Wha’s mallah, boy?” - -Dan cooled his parched throat with the highball. Indeed, he had rung for -the Chinaman for the very purpose of ordering one. Strange, he thought, -how Sooey Wan could understand him without a blueprint and directions -for using! - -“Sooey Wan, I’m all through. I have gone broke.” - -“All the way?” Sooey Wan’s voice cooed like a flute. - -“All the way and back, Sooey Wan. I’m done. You’ll have to leave me now -and go back to China. I cannot afford to pay your wages any more.” - -“To hell with wages!” Sooey Wan, for the first time in his life, was -genuinely angry, disgusted and humiliated. His eyes showed it, his -wrinkled lower lip twisted and revealed his yellow fangs, his voice -reeked with the very soul of profanity as he rasped out a few words in -Chinese. Then: “Big fool, wha’ for you talkum money to Sooey Wan?” - -“You know very well I didn’t mean to offend you, you old idol,” Dan -protested. “I spoke the truth. I am broke, utterly smashed.” - -“Shut up!” screeched Sooey Wan. “Wha’ for you all time tellum lie?” He -set down untasted the highball he had planned to drink in profound -sympathy with his adored boss and left the room. - -“Sooey Wan, come back here!” Dan ordered. - -Sooey Wan’s voice rose in a shriek like the bull fiddle of his native -land. “Shut up! Shut up! You klazy fool, wha’s mallah you? You no bloke. -You bet. No can do.” - -Dan sighed and sipped his highball. At the same moment Tamea slid out -from under a dark afghan on a divan in the far corner of the room. She -had fallen asleep there and, unknown to Sooey Wan and Dan, had been -listening to their conversation. Swiftly she crossed the room to him -now; as he rose to greet her she put her arms around his neck and drew -his head down until his cheek caressed hers. Thus she held him a long -time, in silence, save for the plainly discernible, regular beat of her -heart. Then: - -“Poor boy! You are hurt? But yes, I know it.” - -He nodded. “Smashed,” he murmured. “All my money gone. Ruined.” - -Tamea’s glance went past his ear and rested on Sooey Wan standing in the -doorway, a large red lacquered box in his arms. She shook her head at -him ever so slightly and like a yellow wraith he faded back into the -hall. - -“Ruined?” Tamea queried. “Has my lord, then, parted with his honor?” - -“No, no, not that,” he cried brokenly. “Nobody will think that of me. I -will pay, but it will take all I have to do it, and when they have -finished with me I shall have nothing left wherewith to make a new -start. But never mind, Tamea. I’m not whipped. Just dazed, not down for -the count. I’ll come back.” - -He could feel the little chuckle of mirth that rippled through the lithe -body pressed so close against him. “So?” she declared with her golden -little laugh, “it is only a matter of money. And yet my lord is shaken -like a coco-palm in the monsoon. Silly, silly white man. He does not -know that I have money and that all of it is his.” She drew his head -around and kissed him on the lips; he trembled with the knowledge of her -tremendous sweetness. “You will take my money and let me see you smile -again, Dan Pritchard,” she commanded. - -“No, no, darling. I couldn’t do that—ever. Please do not ask me to.” - -“But why, dear one?” - -“Then indeed would I be parting with my honor.” - -“What madness! Is it because I am not your wife? Well, we will be -married quickly and then——” - -“No,” he protested. “I tell you it is impossible. I’ll never be able to -repay the debt of your asking me to take your money, but—I shall never, -never take one penny of it. I couldn’t.” - -“But after we are married——” - -“Never. I am your guardian. Your father gave you to me because he had -faith in my manhood, he believed me to be a gentleman. You will not -understand because your love blinds you, Tamea, but the white men of my -world have a code and we must never break it.” - -“Oh,” said Tamea softly, and her eyes filled with tears. “Of what use is -money save to buy happiness? When a man takes a woman to wife does he -not take all she has—all of her love, all of her wealth, all of her -faith? Is she not to be the mother of his children? You are right, dear -one. I could never understand your white man’s code.” - -“Some day you will, honey. Kiss me good night and run along to your -room, child. I am unhappy tonight and when I am unhappy I have a desire -to be alone. I wish to think.” - -She kissed him and went upstairs obediently; as she paused on the first -landing and gazed down into the hall she saw Sooey Wan slide noiselessly -into the living room, his red lacquered box still clasped under his arm. -Tamea stood there, wondering—and then to her ears came distinctly the -sound of money clinking merrily. - -Tamea came back downstairs and peered around the jamb of the door into -the living room. Sooey Wan was on his knees beside the red lacquered -box, with both hands tossing out on the carpet hundreds of gold pieces, -bales of yellow-backed bills and large, fat, heavy Manila envelopes. - -“You count ’em, Missa Dan,” he begged when the box was empty. And Dan -Pritchard, wondering, knelt beside Sooey Wan and counted long and in -silence, making many notations on a piece of paper. And Tamea, watching, -presently was aware that Sooey Wan, who trusted not in banks, had, in -his forty-odd years in the United States, accumulated in that red -lacquered box a fortune of two hundred and nineteen thousand, four -hundred and nine dollars and eighty cents in cash and bonds. - -“Sooey Wan,” said Dan Pritchard, “do you cook for me by day and rob -people by night?” - -Sooey Wan cackled merrily. “Oh, your papa always pay me big -money—hund’ed, hund’ed fifty dolla month and Sooey Wan no spend velly -much. But Sooey Wan play poker velly nice, velly lucky fan tan and pi -gow, and bimeby I ketchum one cousin. Cousin no money hab got, but him -know all about raisee vegetable. You know, Missa Dan, ketchum farm up on -Saclamento Liver. So Sooey Wan makee partner with cousin and raisee -early spud, ketchum more land. Velly easy. Boss, you likee Sooey Wan -sellee lanch on Saclamento Liver, can do. Sure. Sellee that land plenty -quick, ketchum thousand dollar for one acre, have got thlee hund’ed -acre. You likee, Missa Dan, I sell for you. Sooey Wan no ketchum son, no -ketchum wifee, no ketchum papa, no ketchum mama, no ketchum nobody but -Missa Dan. Missa Dan allee same Sooey Wan’s boy. Eh? My boy losee money, -Sooey Wan no loosum. Long time ago Sooey Wan talkee your father. Your -father say: ‘Sooey, my partner, Missa Casson, no good. Heap damn fool.’ -All light, I watchum.” He came close to Dan and rested his yellow old -claw of a hand on the beloved shoulder. “Boy,” he said, “Sooey Wan savum -all for you. You takee, you look out for Sooey Wan, givee little money -for play China lottery, givee room, givee job, that’s all light. Sooey -Wan likee this house. Likee live here, likee die here, then you send -Sooey Wan back to China, keepee land on Saclamento Liver, keepee money, -mally lady queen and have many son. I think that plenty good for my boy. -Sooey Wan velly old man,” he continued pleadingly. “No can live all -time. Sure you takee, boy. Then you play lone hand in office. Old man -Casson no damn good.” He shrugged optimistically. “Bimeby you ketchum -all your money back.” - -Dan Pritchard thrust out his long arms and his fingers closed around -Sooey Wan’s neck. “No,” he said, “I’m not broke. I never was broke, and -I never will be broke while you and Tamea live. Thank God for you both! -I couldn’t take her money, Sooey Wan, but I will take yours—later, when -I need it. I’ll make you a partner in my reorganized business.” His -fingers tightened around the old servant’s throat. “You old yellow -devil!” he said and shook Sooey Wan vigorously. “We understand each -other, I think. God bless you and bring you to some sort of Oriental -heaven, you golden-hearted old heathen.” - -Sooey Wan took up his untasted highball. “Hullah for hell!” he cackled, -tossed off the drink, gathered up his fortune and departed for his room, -chuckling like a malevolent old gnome. - -Dan Pritchard sat down, alone in the living room, and wept. He was a bit -of a sentimentalist. About one o’clock in the morning he went up to bed. - -At two o’clock Sooey Wan was awakened by a rapping at his door. He -crawled out of bed, opened the door an inch and found Tamea outside. - -“Wha’s mallah?” he growled. - -“Sooey Wan, please lend me five hundred dollars—now,” Tamea pleaded. -“Dan Pritchard will pay you back.” - -“Wha’ for you want money now?” Sooey Wan demanded suspiciously. - -“You are a servant,” Tamea reminded him. “You should not ask questions. -If you do not desire to oblige me I will make Dan Pritchard send you -away from this house.” - -Sooey Wan wilted, dug around in his red lacquered box and handed Tamea -five hundred dollars. Then he went back to bed to think it over. As for -Tamea, ten minutes later she let herself out the front door very -quietly. She carried her accordion and a small suitcase which she had -appropriated from Julia. - -A taxicab cruised down Pacific Avenue after having deposited a bibulous -gentleman in the arms of a sleepy butler. With an eye single to business -the driver pulled over to the curb and hailed Tamea. - -“Ride, Miss?” - -“Take me to the place where the ships may be found,” she ordered and -climbed in. At Clay Street wharf, just north of the ferry building, she -got out and walked along the waterside, north. At that hour the -Embarcadero was deserted, save for an occasional watchman at a dock -head, and to their curious glances Tamea paid no heed. She stumbled -blindly on, questing like a homecoming lost dog, and presently she found -that which she sought. It was the unmistakable odor of copra and it -brought Tamea to a little hundred and thirty foot trading schooner that -lay chafing her blistered sides against the bulkhead at the foot of -Pacific Street. Uninvited, Tamea stepped aboard, sat down on the hatch -coaming and waited for dawn. With the dawn came a gasoline tug and -bumped alongside the schooner. Then men came on deck and to them Tamea -spoke in a language they could understand. The master came, stood before -her and gazed upon her curiously. - -“Who are you, young lady?” he said presently, “and what do you want?” - -“I am the daughter of Gaston Larrieau, master of the schooner Moorea. My -father is dead. My name is Tamea and I am weary of this white man’s -land. My heart aches for my own people and I would go back to them. I -have money to pay for my passage. I would go to Riva.” - -“I have no passenger license, child, but your father was my friend. If -you can stand us, we can stand you. There will be no charge for the -passage. We are towing out this morning with the tide and our first port -of call is Tahiti. Go below, girl, and the cook will give you -breakfast.” - -As the sun was rising back of Mount Diablo the launch cast the little -schooner adrift off the Golden Gate and the Kanaka sailors, chanting a -hymn, ran up her headsails. As they filled, Tamea came out of the cabin -and looked again upon that ocher-tinted coastline, watched again the -bizarre painted gasoline trawlers of the Mediterranean fishermen put out -for the Cordelia banks. Then the mainsail went up and the schooner -heeled gently over, took a bone in her teeth and headed south. - -“It is best to leave him thus,” the girl murmured. “He does not love me -and he never will. I would not stay to afflict him. What he would not -accept from me he accepted from a servant. Then I knew!” - -She lifted her golden voice and sang “_Aloha_,” the Hawaiian song of -farewell. . . . - -For Tamea, Queen of Riva, was of royal blood, and when the gods rained -blows upon her she could take them smiling! - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - - -At seven o’clock the following morning Dan Pritchard was awakened from a -light and fitful slumber by forceful hammering at his bedroom door. To -his query, “Yes, yes, who is it?” a voice freighted with tears and -fright answered: - -“’Tis Julia, sor. Miss Tammy’s gone, God help us.” - -“Gone? Gone? Gone where?” - -“Sorra wan o’ me knows, but she’s not in the house and her bed has not -been shlept in. I found a letther for you, sor, on her bureau.” And -Julia opened his door an inch and slid an envelope in to him. He read: - - Beloved: - - I was very foolish to think you truly loved me, to think that I, - a half-caste Polynesian girl, could make you love me as I desire - to be loved. Therefore, I leave you, though I love you. Because - I love you, last night I offered you all that I have. You needed - it, but—you could not accept it from me because that would have - made you feel that you must accept me also. I have been shamed. - I am not a woman of common blood, yet you refused from me what - you gladly accepted from your Chinese servant. So I have learned - my lesson. I am not angry, dear one, but I am beginning to - understand Mellenger was right. Your world is not for me. Please - tell Mellenger that I forgive him and that I am sorry I spoke - certain words to him, for he is both wise and brave and a loyal - friend. Tell him I know he will forgive me, and why. - - I have begged of Sooey Wan five hundred dollars. Please repay - him. As for the money my father gave me, I leave it to you, for - I love you. You need it and I would have you happy, even though - I may not know happiness myself. Where I go I shall never - require money. - - Good-by, Dan Pritchard. Good-by to our love. Perhaps some day we - shall meet in Paliuli, for the missionaries say that there even - a half-caste girl shall be washed whiter than snow. But alas, I - have never seen snow. I know not what it is. - - And now I depart from this house, with naught in my heart for - you but love. - - Your - TAMEA. - -Dan’s heart was constricted. For several minutes he sat dumbly on the -side of the bed, reading and rereading the letter, striving to realize -that for the second time within twelve hours his world had come tumbling -about his ears. Julia’s sniffling came to him through the slightly -opened door. The sound irritated him. - -“Send Sooey Wan up to me, Julia, please,” he ordered. - -“He’s here now, sor.” - -“Come in, you yellow idiot,” Dan roared, and the old Chinaman shuffled -into the room and stood before him dejectedly, but with eyes that met -his master’s glance unflinchingly. “When Miss Larrieau asked you to lend -her five hundred dollars, why did you not come up and tell me -immediately?” he demanded. - -“Sometime, Missa Dan,” Sooey Wan answered humbly, “evlybody klazy. Las’ -night I think Sooey Wan klazy, too. After Missa Dan go bed, lady queen -knock my door. She say: ‘Sooey Wan, I likee fi’ hund’ed dolla’.’ I think -velly funny, so I say ‘Wha’ for?’ and lady queen get velly mad, so Sooey -Wan think maybe lady queen wanchee buy plesent Missa Dan, maybe likee -make suplise party. Wha’ for Sooey Wan ketchum light for ask question to -lady queen? Sooey Wan allee same cook, lady queen allee same lady boss. -No can do, Missa Dan.” - -“That confounded single-track Oriental mind of yours has broken my -heart,” Dan groaned. “Sooey Wan, last night the lady queen offered to -give me a quarter of a million dollars, but I would not accept it. It -was a trust and I couldn’t take advantage of her generous nature. I -dared not risk losing her money. Her father trusted me, and I couldn’t -accept money from a woman anyhow. She knows that you offered me money, -however, and that I accepted it from you, only she doesn’t know why. She -doesn’t understand that you’re a man, Sooey Wan, that you can take a -gambler’s chance, that I’ll throw old Casson out of the business and put -you in as a silent partner; she doesn’t understand that as a baby I -acquired the habit of accepting money from you. You remember how you -would give me spending money when my father wouldn’t? You old fool, -you’ve spoiled me, but you love me like a son and—well, Sooey Wan, -you’re not a Chinaman to me—a servant. You’re my friend—the whitest -white man and the truest friend I’ve ever known, God bless you—but oh, -I could kill you this morning! You’re such a lovable, loyal old booby, -and because of you the girl has gone. She thinks now that I do not want -her.” - -“Women,” said Sooey Wan, “all klazy.” - -“I haven’t the slightest idea where the girl could have gone.” - -“I think maybe go back same place lady queen come from,” the crafty -Chinaman suggested. “Maybe ketchum steamer today. I think velly good job -talkee policeeman, policeeman ketchum velly quick. If lady queen no come -back Sooey Wan shootum blains”—and he struck fiercely his bony, yellow -temple. - -“I have an idea, Sooey Wan. Last Sunday morning we walked along the -waterfront together. I had a schooner in from the south and I wanted to -talk to the captain. At Pacific Street bulkhead there was a trading -schooner, the Pelorus, unloading copra, and Tamea spoke to the Kanaka -mate in his own language.” - -He reached for the telephone and called up the Meiggs wharf lookout of -the Merchants’ Exchange. - -“Has the schooner Pelorus sailed?” he queried, after introducing himself -as a member of the Exchange. - -“Towed out with the tide about five o’clock this morning, Mr. -Pritchard.” - -“What towed her out?” - -“A Crowley gasoline tug, sir. Wait a minute until I get the glass on -her. She’s just coming back after dropping the Pelorus off the Gate.” A -silence. Then, “Crowley Number Thirty-four.” - -“Thank you.” Dan hung up and turned to Sooey Wan. “Bring me a cup of -coffee and a piece of toast. Get Graves out and tell him to have the car -waiting in front in fifteen minutes,” he ordered, and leaped for his -shower bath. By the time he was dressed Sooey Wan appeared with the -coffee and just as Crowley tug Number Thirty-four slid into her berth to -await another towing job, Dan Pritchard appeared on the dock and hailed -her skipper in the pilot house. - -“You towed the Pelorus out a couple of hours ago. Did you happen to -observe whether she carried any passengers?” - -“I did. One, sir. A young lady.” - -“Describe her.” - -“A handsome young lady, sir, dark complected in a way, and yet not dark. -Struck me she might have just a drop of Island blood in her, sir. She -was wearin’ a blue suit but no hat, and when I saw her first as I bumped -alongside she was settin’ on the main hatch coamin’ and she’d been -cryin’.” - -“Any baggage?” - -“A suitcase and an accordion. The skipper of the Pelorus found her -settin’ there and she introduced herself. I gathered that he knew her -people and was glad to meet her. She must have shipped as a passenger, -because she was standin’ aft lookin’ back at the city the last I saw of -the Pelorus.” - -“How fast is the fastest tug or launch in the Crowley fleet?” Dan next -inquired. - -“Fifteen miles an hour.” - -“Great! I’ll charter her. I want to overhaul the Pelorus and take that -girl off.” - -The man in the pilot house shook his head. “No use, sir. The Pelorus has -lines like a yacht and she’s a witch in a breeze of wind. There’s a -thirty mile nor’west breeze on her quarter and she’s logging fifteen -knots if she’s logging an inch this minute. I cast her off at six -fifteen—two hours ago. She’d be hull down on the horizon in an hour. -You couldn’t hope to overhaul her, sir.” - -“Thank you, friend. I dare say you’re right.” He wadded a bill into a -ball and tossed it in the pilot house window, smiled wanly and returned -to his car. On the way up to the office of Casson and Pritchard he -formulated a plan of action, which he proceeded to place in operation -the moment he found himself alone in his private office. - -First he looked up the Pelorus in Lloyd’s Register and satisfied himself -that she was staunch and seaworthy, or rather that she had been a year -previous. She was owned in Honolulu. Well, Tamea would doubtless be safe -aboard her—that is, safe from the elements, although a cold feeling -swept over him as he thought of that glorious creature alone on a -trading schooner, at the mercy of her captain. He hoped the man was -different from the majority of his kind. - -At nine o’clock he telephoned the Customs House and learned that the -Pelorus had cleared for general cruising in the South Pacific, with her -first port of call Tahiti. With a sinking heart Dan recalled that there -was neither wireless station nor cable station at Tahiti, and a close -scrutiny of the Shipping Guide disclosed the fact that the next steamer -for Sidney, via Tahiti, Pago Pago and Raratonga would not sail for two -weeks. Well, he would write Casson and Pritchard’s agent at Tahiti to -board the Pelorus when she dropped hook in the harbor and deliver to the -girl a letter and a draft on the French bank in Tahiti, to enable her to -purchase a first class steamer passage back to San Francisco, where they -would be married immediately. Undoubtedly the steamer would beat the -Pelorus to Tahiti, even though the latter vessel should have a two -weeks’ start. Even should the Pelorus beat her in, the schooner would -probably lie in Tahiti harbor for a week and Tamea would go ashore and -visit friends of her father’s while awaiting passage on a schooner that -could drop her off at Riva. The chances for overhauling the heart-broken -fugitive were excellent; the letter which would reach her, via the -steamer and later by hand of Casson and Pritchard’s agent, would bring -her back to him. Of that he felt assured. - -However, in the event the steamer should never reach Tahiti, he essayed -two other means of communicating with her, via his agent. There was a -wireless station at Fanning Island and another at Noumea, so he sent a -message to each, with a request that it be relayed to Tamea by the first -vessels touching there and bound for Tahiti. - -He had done all he could to retrieve the situation now, so he spread his -long arms out on his desk, laid his face in them and suffered. He -yearned for the blessed relief of tears, for at last Dan Pritchard was -realizing that he did indeed love Tamea with all of the wild and -passionate love of which he had dreamed. He had not believed that it -would be possible for him to love any woman so. His heart ached for her. -He was thoroughly wretched. - -What matter if her mother had been a Polynesian princess, her father a -carefree, wandering love-pirate, a very Centaur? Tamea was—Tamea—and -in all this world there would never, by God’s grace, exist another like -her. - -He got out her letter and read it again, and a lump gathered in his -throat as he realized how sweet it was, how benignant, how overflowing -with love and the gladness of love’s sacrifice. How prideful she was and -how childish! What a tremendous indication was her act, of a -tremendously regal character! Poor, bruised, misunderstanding and -misunderstood heart. His tears came at last. . . . - -By noon he had regained control of himself, and resolutely driving from -his mind all thoughts of Tamea, he concentrated upon his business -affairs. His first move was to order the firm’s books closed as of that -date and a schedule of assets and liabilities drawn up, after which he -wrote a form letter to the firm’s customers explaining the predicament -in which Casson and Pritchard found themselves and the reason for it, -pledged his own private fortune to retrieve the situation in part and -invited the creditors to meet with him and his attorneys in the assembly -room of the Merchants’ Exchange a week hence, when a thorough and -comprehensive review of the situation would be possible and at which -time he hoped to have worked out a scheme for the rehabilitation of the -business and the payment of one hundred cents on every dollar of the -firm’s obligations. - -As yet no one, not even the chief clerk, knew that Casson and Pritchard -were listed among the casualties in the post-war collapse of values -which Dan had feared so long. Dan and his partner were the sole -custodians of that cheerless information, but in their minds existed no -illusions regarding their situation. That eight thousand tons of rice -aboard the Malayan alone spelled a loss of at least a million and a -half. Already the market on coffee, sugar, Oriental oils, copra and a -hundred other commodities had commenced to slump, and, in the wild -scramble to throw trades overboard before too heavy a loss should -accrue, Dan knew that every importing and exporting house in the country -would be hard put to weather the storm. Casson and Pritchard would have -to face other losses in the natural order of business, and Dan was -shrewd enough to realize that these, coupled with the tremendous loss on -old Casson’s rice gamble, would force him to cry for quarter. Therefore -he faced the issue resolutely and calmly made his preparations for the -assault of the firm’s creditors by assuming the initiative. - -For a week he worked all day and part of each night at the office. Old -Casson, cruelly stung with remorse and fright, remained at home and did -not communicate with him, a condition for which Dan was grateful. He -heard nothing from Maisie, nor did his thoughts dwell long or frequently -upon her. He had room in his harassed mind for thoughts of but one -woman—Tamea. - -All during that terrible week gossip linked irremediable disaster with -some of the oldest and soundest firms on the Street. Apparently Katsuma -and Company had been smashed beyond all hope of rehabilitation, for -Katsuma, Jap-like, had solved his problem by hanging himself and was as -dead as Julius Cæsar. There was a panic in Wall Street and already local -banks had grown timid and were refusing the loans so necessary to the -successful operation of the commerce upon which banks must, perforce, -predicate their existence. Demand loans were being called, and when not -met the collateral back of them was levied upon. - -At the conclusion of that week’s business Dan had before him a written -record of Casson and Pritchard’s affairs; the letters to creditors lay -on his desk, awaiting his signature, and his plan of rehabilitation, -even his address to the firm’s creditors, had been rehearsed until he -knew it by heart. At eleven o’clock on Saturday his bank called a large -loan. Over the telephone the banker informed Dan crisply but courteously -that they expected the note to be paid on Monday; whereupon Dan -Pritchard sent out his letters to Casson and Pritchard’s creditors and -then sent for Mark Mellenger, whom he had not seen since the latter’s -sudden retreat from the Italian restaurant in the Latin quarter. - -“I’ve sent for you, Mel,” Dan informed his friend, “to give you two -exclusive stories, one of which is for publication. In the first place, -Tamea has returned to Riva, or at least she is now en route there. I am -endeavoring, however, to turn her back at Tahiti in order that I may -marry her.” - -“Why did she leave? Did you send her away?” - -Dan briefly explained and Mellenger listened in silence; at the -conclusion of Dan’s recital he merely nodded and said: “I suppose any -man would be a very great fool not to marry a woman like Tamea. She is -the only one of her kind I ever heard of. What’s the other story?” - -“It’s contained in this letter to the creditors of our firm. I’m busted, -Mel. However, I shall rise, like the phenix, from my ashes, thanks to -Sooey Wan. I’ll reorganize the firm, eliminating Casson, who is in no -position to dictate terms or claim an interest for alleged good-will. I -hope he has means to enable him to take care of Mrs. Casson and Maisie, -and if he hasn’t I dare say Maisie can do something to support herself.” - -“I’ll write you a nice, kindly story regarding the embarrassment of your -firm. I’ve been writing such stories for two weeks. I dislike to air -your difficulty, Dan, but if I do not the other papers will, so I might -as well scoop them in the Sunday edition. Poor Tamea! I shall probably -not see her again, but I am glad to have her friendship at least. Her -friendship is worth something.” - -He accepted one of Dan’s cigars and commenced to talk of other things; -at parting he remarked, casually, that he would be up to the house for -dinner the following Thursday night—now that Tamea was no longer there -to be oppressed by his presence. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - - -The wisdom of Dan’s course in announcing the insolvency of Casson and -Pritchard before the announcement should be forced from him by the -firm’s creditors was fully manifested at the meeting of the creditors. -Each creditor had received a copy of the firm’s trial balance and the -schedule of assets and liabilities; also a copy of Dan’s proposed plan -of settlement and reorganization. The settlement contemplated a payment -of twenty-five per cent on all liabilities at once, with a three-year -extension on the balance due, at five per cent, and a payment of the -interest and twenty-five per cent of the principal annually. All of the -creditors had had three days in which to read this plan, study it and -discuss it with their principals, and the result was that Dan’s plan was -enthusiastically and gratefully accepted, with the proviso that John -Casson retire from the partnership. The method of his retirement the -creditors left to Pritchard. - -The task of severing Casson from the firm was not a difficult one. His -share of the debts practically equaled his equity in the assets and he -accepted eagerly Dan’s offer to take over his assets and liabilities in -return for a release from the creditors for Casson’s share of the firm’s -indebtedness to them. He had about a quarter of a million dollars in -cash and real estate in his private fortune and this Dan forced him to -turn over to his wife, as the only guarantee that he could think of -against a disastrous reëntry into business and, consequently, a -penniless and sorrowful old age for all concerned. - -At the last moment a hitch occurred. Two banks, carrying nearly half a -million dollars’ worth of Casson and Pritchard paper, bearing Dan -Pritchard’s endorsement, suddenly decided, after the fashion of banks, -to play safe. “Every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost” is -ever the fashion of the banker who finds himself the possessor of a -slight advantage over other creditors. Overnight they entered suit -against Dan, as endorser and guarantor of Casson and Pritchard’s notes, -and levied attachments against every asset of his they could locate. In -the face of this unexpected treachery Dan had but one alternative, and -he chose it unhesitatingly. He filed a voluntary petition in bankruptcy, -for himself and for the firm, thus vitiating the banks’ attachments and -placing all of his and Casson and Pritchard’s creditors upon an equal -footing. Thereupon the bank withdrew its suit against Dan and petitioned -the court for a receiver for Casson and Pritchard—a petition in which -the other creditors were now forced to join. A receiver was immediately -appointed and took charge of the business of Casson and Pritchard. - -It was then that Dan Pritchard’s spirit broke. The day the receiver took -charge he cleaned out his desk and departed from that office. The -following day he had leased his home furnished, dismissed Graves and -Julia, stored his cars and purchased a passage to Tahiti. With Tamea’s -money he promptly purchased Liberty Bonds, which in the panic had -dropped twenty points, and established a trust fund for her with a local -trust company. Then, accompanied by Sooey Wan, he went aboard the Union -Line steamer Aorangi and departed for Tahiti, hoping to find Tamea, -marry her there and then consider what he should do with his life -thereafter. He was crushed at the unexpected turn his business affairs -had taken. He had turned over to the receiver every dollar, every asset -he possessed, and he no longer had the slightest interest in the affairs -of Casson and Pritchard. - -The creditors might do what they pleased with the business. They could -either operate it under a receivership until it paid out, or they could -liquidate it. It was their business now and Dan had done all that any -honorable man could do to meet his obligations. Old Casson had his -release from all of the creditors, including the banks, for these latter -had fairly accurate information as to the latter’s finances, and, with -Pritchard’s endorsement to protect them, they had concluded to dispense -with picking old Casson’s financial bones. - -The knowledge that Maisie would not be thrown under the feet of the -world comforted Dan greatly. He was too depressed to call upon her and -say good-by before sailing, so he wrote her a brief note of farewell -instead; desirous of losing touch with his world, he did not tell her -where he was bound. To Mellenger only did he confide, and that silent -and thoughtful man had merely nodded and declined comment. - -At last, Dan reflected as, stretched out in a steamer chair in the snug -lee of the Aorangi’s funnel, he watched the coast of California fade -into the haze, he was free. Business no longer claimed him. If the -receiver desired any information touching the firm’s affairs he had -complete and comprehensive records before him, and if he could not -understand those records, there was the efficient office force to aid -him. Yes, he was free. He would wander now, with Sooey Wan to take care -of him financially and physically. - -And he felt no qualms in the realization that he was now dependent -entirely upon Sooey Wan. In a way he had always been dependent upon -Sooey Wan, but on the other hand, was not Sooey Wan dependent upon his -Missa Dan? - -As the old Chinaman had often assured him, the only human being in the -world to whom he was bound by the tightest tethers of affection was Dan -Pritchard. Wherefore, why should he decline a loan from Sooey Wan? To -have done so would have been to inflict upon the loyal old heathen a -cruel hurt. And money meant little to Sooey Wan; it was good to gamble -with, that was all. In the end Sooey Wan, dying, would have willed his -entire estate to his beloved Missa Dan; why, therefore, be a sentimental -idiot and decline to accept it while Sooey Wan lived? Why deny the old -man this great happiness? - -Sooey Wan, neatly and unostentatiously arrayed in Oriental costume and -occupying a first class cabin all to himself, lolled in a chair -alongside Dan and puffed contentedly at a long briarwood pipe. He was -having the first vacation he had ever known and he was enjoying it, for -presently he turned to Dan and said: - -“Missa Dan, I think evlybody pretty damn happy. No ketchum work, ketchum -plenty money, ketchum nice lest, ketchum lady queen, velly nice. Eh, -Missa Dan?” - -“Sooey Wan,” Dan replied, “so far as I am concerned, I never want to -operate another ship or buy another pound of copra or draw another -check. I’m going to marry the lady queen the very day we find her; after -that I’m going to paint pictures and dream and soak myself from soul to -liver with just plain, unruffled, untroubled, simple living. Sooey Wan, -I’m content just to sit here and look at the ocean. The other fellows -can have all the worry now. They wanted it and I gave it to them and I -hope they enjoy it. I’m content to know they will get their money out of -Casson and Pritchard, although it ruins me.” - -“You allee time talkee like klazy man, boss. Wha’ for you luined? Plenty -money hab got. Shut up! You makee me sick.” - -Fell a long, blissful silence, while Dan stared at the sea and permitted -his brain to sink into a state of absolute quiescence, and Sooey Wan -speculated on the expectancy of life in superannuated Chinamen in -general and of himself in particular. For the paternal instinct was -strong in Sooey Wan and the years had been long since Dan’s baby arms -had been around his neck and Dan’s soft cheek had been pressed in love -against Sooey Wan’s. Sweet memories of a sweet experience! Childless old -Sooey Wan yearned for it again, yearned to have his Missa Dan know the -thrill that had been denied to Sooey Wan—the thrill of fatherhood. - -Arrived at Tahiti, Dan’s eager glance swept the little harbor as the -Aorangi crept in. The Pelorus lay at anchor. The skipper of the tug that -had towed her out of San Francisco bay was right. She was a witch in a -breeze! The French customs officials who boarded the steamer informed -Dan that she had arrived the day before. Zounds, what a smashing -passage! And Tamea was over yonder in the town—just exactly where, he -would ascertain from the master of the Pelorus. - -Dan and Sooey Wan were into a short boat and pulling toward the Pelorus -five minutes after the Aorangi had been given pratique. The master of -the Pelorus met them at the rail as Dan came up over the Jacob’s ladder. - -“You had a passenger, Captain,” said Dan. “A Mademoiselle Tamea -Larrieau.” - -The master of the Pelorus eyed him gravely and nodded. “You are Mr. -Pritchard, I take it, sir,” he said. - -“I am, Captain. Where is Tamea?” - -“I wanted her to wait, Mr. Pritchard. I told her you’d be following on -the first steamer, but she wouldn’t listen to me. And I one of her -father’s oldest and closest friends, Mr. Pritchard. But she was what you -might call broken-hearted. Nothing would do but she must get back to -Riva and lose herself. The day we got in she booked a passage on the -auxiliary schooner Doris Crane that was just leaving. The Crane has a -passenger license and very excellent passenger accommodations, and Tamea -will get as far as Tamakuku on her. Riva lies about eighty miles due -west and the girl will charter a gasoline launch for the remainder of -the journey.” - -“I doubt if she has sufficient money, Captain.” - -“She has. I charged her nothing for her passage. By the way,” he -continued with a sly smile, “the Doris Crane can be reached by -wireless—maybe. Why not have the operator on the Aorangi try to get -your message to Tamea?” - -“Tamea told you about me, Captain?” asked Dan. - -The skipper nodded, smiling. “When you know her better, sir, you’ll make -allowances for her native blood and her primitive way of reasoning.” - -“Thank you,” Dan replied, and departed overside, to be pulled back to -the Aorangi, where he filed a message to Tamea informing her that he -would meet her in Riva, asking her to await him there, telling her that -he loved her and begging her to wireless him in reply. - -Just before the Aorangi pulled out that night the wireless operator -telephoned him at his hotel to report that he had been unable to get in -touch with the Doris Crane. Dan was cruelly disappointed and Sooey Wan, -observing this, trotted out to the hotel bar and returned with two -Gibson cocktails which he had prevailed upon the barkeeper to mix -according to a time-honored formula. One of these cocktails Sooey Wan -drank, in silent sympathy and understanding, while Dan partook of the -other. - -When the old cook noted a lifting of the cloud on Dan’s face, he spoke, -for Sooey Wan was one of those rare men who never speak out of their -turn. - -“Captain of schooner velly nice man. Wha’ for you no rentum schooner? -Plenty money hab got.” - -Dan’s long arm rested affectionately across Sooey Wan’s shoulders. “You -dad-fetched old heathen, what would I do without you? You’re the shadow -of a rock in a weary land. Let’s go.” - -Together they went—out to the Pelorus. Her master, seated on deck under -an awning with a glass of grog before him, smiled as they came over the -rail. - -“I’ve been expecting you, Mr. Pritchard. I was ready to sail at four -this afternoon, but something told me I’d best wait. It’s about five -hundred miles out of my way, but if you will insist on going to Riva I -might as well have the job as anybody. Mighty few vessels cruise down -that way. You might be hung up here for six months. Passage for two will -cost you two thousand dollars.” - -“Hab got,” said Sooey Wan promptly, and shed his duck coat. Up out of -his linen trousers came his shirt tail and around his middle showed a -wide money belt. This he unbuckled and gravely counted out two thousand -dollars into the master’s palm. - -“Now I go ketchum baggage,” he announced and went ashore. Half an hour -later the Pelorus, in tow of a launch, was slipping out of the harbor. -Once in the open sea, she heeled gently to the trade wind and rolled -away into the southwest in the wake of the Doris Crane. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - - -Pelorus proved to be a comfortable and seaworthy vessel and her master -(his name was Hackett) a most comfortable and seaworthy person. Although -plainly hungry for a more intellectual brand of masculine society than -ordinarily was to be found in the out-of-the-way places he visited, he -tactfully forbore to obtrude upon Dan’s mood of depression until quite -certain that he was not obtruding—whereupon he would become a most -delightful and entertaining companion. His besetting sin was Scotch and -soda, albeit he resolutely declined, when at sea, to touch a drop before -five o’clock in the afternoon and while he helped himself liberally -until the steward announced dinner, the liquor never appeared to affect -him. It developed that he and Gaston of the Beard had been warm friends. -Hackett’s admiration for the old Breton skipper had been very profound. - -One day he said suddenly to Dan: “You have an unasked question in the -back of your head, Mr. Pritchard. You need not bother to ask it. I shall -answer it, however. Old Gaston Larrieau was my friend. We stood back to -back, once, and shot our way out of rather a dirty mess in the New -Hebrides; I was wounded and unconscious at the finish and he swam with -me half a mile through shark-infested waters to his ship. I am what I am -and rather less than that in port, but I behave myself at sea and I have -a long memory. Tamea was as nice a girl when she left the Pelorus as she -was when she came aboard. I wasn’t fixed to accommodate a woman -passenger, but to such as I had she was welcome and no questions asked.” - -Dan smiled. “Thank you,” he replied. “I _was_ wondering.” - -“You’re devilish frank,” Hackett laughed. “I think I like you the better -for your insulting thought. However, I wouldn’t have been above it with -anybody save old Gaston’s girl. One grows to hold them rather cheaply, -you know. Half-caste or full blood, they come and they go. Hearts are -not too readily broken down this way, Mr. Pritchard.” - -“Tamea,” said Dan Pritchard, “is a white woman.” - -“Nonsense, my dear sir. She’s a half-caste.” - -“Her soul is white,” said Dan doggedly. - -“I am not prepared to dispute that assertion,” Hackett replied casually. -“I never quarrel with any man’s likes or dislikes.” He eyed Dan -narrowly. “Something tells me you’re going to marry this girl, Mr. -Pritchard.” - -“Certainly.” - -“And take her back to the United States with you?” - -Dan nodded. - -Hackett shrugged, as who should say: “Well, it’s none of my business -what you do.” - -“You deprecate my decision,” Dan charged irritably. - -“I do not. I don’t give a hoot what you do. I was thinking of the girl. -If I stood in your shoes I wouldn’t marry her. Why should you? You don’t -have to, and she doesn’t expect you to. You’ll regret it if you take her -back to the United States, because she’ll never be truly happy there. -When you transplant these people they die of homesickness. They’re so -far behind our civilization they can never catch up, and the effort to -do so wearies them and they die. They have the home instinct and the -home yearning of a lost fox hound. They are children, I tell you. They -never grow up—and you are not the man to wed with a woman who will -never grow up.” - -“Nonsense,” Dan growled. “Sheer, unadulterated nonsense.” - -Hackett shrugged and poured himself another peg of Scotch. “I’ve had -three of them in my day. I think I ought to know. One was a Pitcairn -islander and more than half white. I sailed a thousand miles off my -course to bring her back to Pitcairn. She was slowly dying. She loved me -but she loved Pitcairn and her people more.” - -There the conversation ceased, yet the effect of it remained. Day after -day, night after night, as the Pelorus rolled lazily before the trades, -Dan Pritchard’s mind dwelled on his problem. What if Hackett should be -proved right, after all? Dan recalled how swiftly, how inevitably, -Tamea’s hurt heart had called her back to Riva and her own people. How -poignantly had that bruised heart yearned for the understanding of those -who could understand her? - -His mind harked back to the nights when Tamea lay upon the hearthrug in -his Pacific Avenue home and played sad little songs of Riva on her -accordion. Could it have been that on such occasions her soul had been -steeped in a vague, unsuspected nostalgia? If Hackett was right, then -he, Dan Pritchard, journeyed upon worse than a fool’s errand. Might he -not be doing the kindly, the decent thing, to turn back, to trust to -time and some other man to mend that broken heart? He wondered. - -He could not, however, cherish seriously even for a moment the thought -of abandoning his journey. Old Gaston had given Tamea to him to care -for; the Triton had trusted him and he must go on. There was that cursed -money he held in trust for her. She had abandoned it to him, out of the -greatness of her love, but he could no more accept it now than he could -the night she had offered it. He had to see her and return it to her. He -had to win her complete forgiveness and understanding, to render her -happy again. - -Suddenly, one evening while he paced slowly backward and forward in the -waist of the ship, he found the solution. He would marry Tamea and end -his days in the Islands. He wanted a change. He told himself he was sick -of civilization; he wanted to be simple and natural, free of the -competition of existence. - -Down there nobody would wonder why he had married Tamea. Conventions did -not exist, nor foolish tradition nor social codes—and he could paint -landscapes to his heart’s content. He would establish a South Sea school -of landscape painting. He would be through with the riddle of -existence. . . and there was the embarrassment of Maisie and her aunt -and old Casson and Mellenger and all of his friends should he return to -San Francisco! - -His decision, arrived at so suddenly, was peculiarly inexorable. He had -thought too long and too hard: mentally he had come to the jumping-off -place. On the instant his motto was: “The devil take -everything—including me!” The rewards to be gleaned from the struggle -that faced him, should he return to his white civilization, were -scarcely commensurate with the effort required. A sudden, passionate -yearning had seized him to chuck it all, to drift with the tide, to -sample life in its elemental phases, to be happy in a land where all of -the rules of existence were reversed . . . a man lived but once and he -was a long time dead. . . and Dan wanted Tamea. . . . Ah, how ardently -he desired her and how lonely and desolate would be his life without -her! Civilization demands much of repression, since civilized man, like -the domestic dog, still retains many of the instincts of his primitive -ancestors; and Dan was weary of repression. Hang it, he would go on the -loose! He would take the gifts that the gods provided and cease to worry -over the opinions of people whose sole claims to his consideration lay -in the fact that they were white and dwelled in his world and were -hobbled and frightened by tradition. - -In all his life Dan had never arrived at a decision that he grasped more -tenaciously or which yielded him a greater measure of comfort. A -subconscious appeal permeated this new thought of freedom as a phrase -runs through an opera. Free! He was going to be free! He was a volatile -spirit and he had been corked too long; the collapse of his business -offered him a splendid excuse for pulling the cork, and by all the gods, -Christian and pagan, he would pull it. That was the idea! Chuck it, -chuck it all and walk out of the picture without even a word of farewell -to his world. - -“I’ll do it! By judas priest, I’ll do it,” he said audibly. - -“I thought you would,” said Captain Hackett’s calm voice. Dan turned and -caught the glow of the master’s cigar as the latter stood on the -companion with his head and shoulders out of the cabin scuttle. “You’ve -been thinking it over long enough. Your brains must be addled.” - -“Well, it is comforting to have come to a conclusion, at any rate,” Dan -defended. - -“My guess is that you have concluded to settle in Riva and let the rest -of the world go by, Mr. Pritchard.” - -“That remark forces me to wonder again why you continue to skipper a -trading schooner, Captain. You should hang out your shingle as a -clairvoyant or mind reader or fortune teller.” - -“I’ve seen your kind come and I’ve seen your kind go,” Hackett retorted. -“Once I was one of you—and I came but never went—and now it is too -late. Which is why I repeat, in all respect, that even if you stay, it -will not be necessary to marry Tamea. Let the world go by, if you -choose—you are the best judge of your wisdom in that regard—but -remember that down under the Line it goes by very slowly, my son. These -islands are not for white men—that is, your kind of white man—unless -you contemplate vegetating and going to pieces mentally, morally and -physically before you are forty. The sun does things to fair-haired and -blue-eyed men and women down in the latitude and longitude of Riva. You -will not be happy there, Mr. Pritchard, and one of these days when I -drop in at Riva you’ll hear your white world calling—and the Chink will -dig up another two thousand dollars for me. And when you leave, Mr. -Pritchard, it would be well to have no _legal_ appendages.” - -Dan was silent. He wanted to bash this tropical philosopher over the -head with a belaying pin and cause him to stow forever his insulting and -impossible advice. But—he reflected—if he did that he would be delayed -getting to Riva and Tamea, and he could not bear that she should suffer -one moment longer than necessary. Hackett read his thoughts. - -“We will not discuss this subject again, Mr. Pritchard,” he said gently. -“I have said my say because I have felt it my duty to do so. Personally, -I don’t give a damn what happens to you, but I should not care to see -Gaston’s daughter made unhappy. I have roved through these islands some -thirty years and I know what I know. Have a cigar. They’re genuine -Sumatras. A bit dry, but if you like a dry cigar—— No? Well, you -needn’t grow huffy.” - -Dan continued his swift walk up and down the deck and Hackett continued -to smoke contemplatively. After a while he said: - -“I’m going to install an ice-making machine with part of the two -thousand dollars the Chink paid me. Going to sea is a hard life and I -make enough money for my owners to entitle me to do myself rather well. -One does grow a bit weary of boiled Scotch and tepid wines.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - -Two weeks later the brown crew of the Pelorus set Dan Pritchard and -Sooey Wan ashore in the whaleboat. - -“I’ll drop in here on my way back—say a year hence,” Captain Hackett -promised him as they shook hands at the Jacob’s-ladder. “I’m a little -bit curious about you and when I’m curious about anybody I have to find -out. I think six months will be long enough to cure you, however. -Good-by, Mr. Pritchard, and good luck to you. Kiss the bride for me -and—forgive me if I venture to remind you once more—you really do not -have to marry her! Tamea hasn’t any very serious thoughts on the -validity or the sanctity of marriage. It is, comparatively, a recent -institution here.” He shook a horny finger at Dan and answered the -latter’s scowl with a mellow laugh. Dan thought he might be just a -little bit jingled a few hours earlier than was his wont. Strange man. -Dan had an idea he had fallen from high estate. - -A Kanaka sailor carried Dan ashore from the boat through the wash of the -surf, and followed with Dan’s trunk. Sooey Wan, presumed to be a person -of no importance, struggled ashore in water up to his knees, and the -moment he found himself high and dry on the shingle he looked about him -with interest. What he saw was a half mile of white beach with a fringe -of tufted coconut palms leaning seaward, a few canoes hauled up on the -beach, a large corrugated iron godown and a small wooden bungalow, -painted white with green trimmings and wide, deep verandas, squatted on -the low bluff above the beach. - -From the veranda of this bungalow a white man detached himself and came -down over the bluff to meet them. He introduced himself as the Reverend -Cyrus Muggridge, the resident missionary. He was a gloomy, liverish sort -of man and Dan had a feeling that to Mr. Muggridge his martyrdom in Riva -was a thing of the flesh and scarcely of the spirit. He repaid the -reverend gentleman’s compliment in kind and introduced himself. Then, -because he observed in the missionary’s eyes an unspoken query, he said: - -“Are you, by any chance, Mr. Muggridge, acquainted with Miss Tamea -Larrieau, who is, I understand, the last blood of the ancient chiefs of -Riva?” - -“I am, unhappily, acquainted with the young woman,” Muggridge replied -wearily, and added, “She is, like her father, wholly irreclaimable.” - -“Perhaps you would be so good as to direct me to her home?” Dan -suggested. “That is, if she has arrived in Riva recently, as I have -reason to suspect she may have. You seem a bit shy on population, Mr. -Muggridge,” he added parenthetically. - -“I think my last census showed some four hundred souls, but since then -we have had two epidemics of influenza and the birth rate has scarcely -kept pace with the mortality rate. Really, I must have another census. -Counting them roughly, I should say that the total population of the -island is two hundred and fifty, of which, perhaps, thirty families -reside in the village.” - -“Where is the village?” - -“About a quarter of a mile up a valley which runs up to those mountains -from the sea. Miss Larrieau, by the way, is again in Riva. She arrived a -week ago and has taken up her residence in her old home. I will point it -out to you, Mr. Pritchard.” - -“Thank you, sir.” - -“You are, perhaps, wondering why none of my people are present,” Mr. -Muggridge continued. “You have unfortunately arrived in mid-afternoon, -when my people are sleeping or, what is more probable, over in the river -bathing.” - -The Kanaka sailors having disposed Dan’s baggage above high-water mark, -the whaleboat pulled back to the ship and was hoisted aboard even while -the Pelorus slowly came about and headed for the open sea again. Mr. -Muggridge, evidently greatly pleased at the prospect of white -company—and a gentleman at that—courteously led the way to the white -bungalow and extended to Dan and his servant the hospitality of his -home. - -“Thank you, Mr. Muggridge,” said Dan gratefully. “I shall be most happy -to accept your invitation—for the present at least. May I ask you to -point out to me Miss Larrieau’s habitation?” - -Mr. Muggridge’s eyebrows went up perceptibly. What a hurry this well -bred, respectable-looking stranger was in to see that half-caste -Jezebel! “Follow the road up past the church yonder until you come to -the river, which you will cross on two coco-palm logs. They are very -slippery. Be careful. Having crossed the bridge, turn to the left and -follow the path up the hill to a house that is as distinctly a white -man’s dwelling as my own. You should find the lady you seek asleep on -the veranda.” - -“Thank you, Mr. Muggridge. If you don’t mind, I think I shall run up to -Miss Larrieau’s house.” - -“Dinner will be served at five-thirty,” the missionary warned him. “I -shall have my servant help your man bring the baggage up to your room.” - -Tamea’s home stood in a grove of coco-palms, interspersed with some -flowering shrubs and a few lesser trees with luxuriant green foliage. -The house had been built on a solid foundation of cement and creosoted -redwood underpinning, to protect it from the native wood-devouring -insects. Dan suspected that the green paint which had at some distant -date been applied to the house was anti-fouling—the sort of paint used -on ships’ bottoms to protect them from teredos. From under the house the -snouts of half a dozen young pigs, taking their siesta, protruded, and -in the yard a stately gamecock and some hens were prospecting for worms. -The place smelled a little of neglect, of semi-decayed vegetation, of -insanitation—the smell peculiar to the homes of native dwellers in the -tropics. A well worn flight of five steps led up from the front of the -house to the veranda, from which one might glean a view of miles of -coastline. About the place there was a silence so profound that Dan -feared he might have come too late, after all. - -He mounted the steps and rapped at a door with bronze screening on it. -There was no answer, so he opened the door and gazed into a large living -room. On the floor was a huge, blue, very old and very valuable Chinese -rug; in the center of this rug stood a large, plain table, of native -hardwood and—so Dan judged—native workmanship. In a corner he saw a -grand piano and on top of the piano Tamea’s accordion and a mandolin and -some scattered music. A few chairs and hardwood benches arranged along -the wall under windows which ran the full length of each wall and which, -when it was desired to ventilate the house, dropped down into a pocket -after the fashion of a train window, completed the furnishings, with the -exception of half a dozen rudely framed sketches of native life, and -ships at sea. - -“Nobody home,” thought Dan, and walked around the veranda on three sides -of the house. On the fourth side, which gave upon the vivid green -mountain peak in the background and into which the late afternoon sun -could not penetrate, Dan paused. - -Before him, on a folding cot, with a native mat spread over it, Tamea -lay, with her head pillowed on her left arm and her face turned slightly -toward him. Her eyes were closed, but she was not asleep, for even as -Dan gazed upon the beloved face he saw tears creep out from between the -shut lids, saw the beautiful, semi-naked body shaken by an ill -suppressed sob. Two swift strides and he was kneeling beside her, and as -she opened her eyes and sought to rise at sight of him, his arms went -around her and strained her to his heart while his lips kissed her -tear-dimmed eyes. - -Thus, long, he held her, while her heart pounded madly against his -breast and the pent-up sorrow of weeks struggled with the rhapsody of -that one perfect moment and left her weak and trembling, able only to -gasp: “Ah, beloved! Beloved! You have come! Is it then that you love -your Tamea—after all?” - -He held her closer and in that tremendous moment his soul overflowed and -he mingled, unashamed, his tears with hers. “Yes, love, I have come,” he -answered chokingly. “You could not be happy with me in my country—so I -have come to be happy with you—in yours.” - -“You come—you mean you come to stay—that you have left—Maisie—your -friends——” - -“I am here, Tamea. I love you. I cannot live without you. I need -you—when you left me you did not understand.” - -“I understand now,” she whispered. “Captain Hackett of the Pelorus was -at pains to explain for you, but I could not believe then. But—you have -come to Riva—so now I understand. Captain Hackett was right, so let -there be no more explanations. Ah, dear one, my heart is bursting with -love for you. If you had not come life would have lost its taste and -your Tamea would have died.” - -“Don’t,” he pleaded, “don’t,” and held her closer. “From this moment -until death we shall not be separated. Tonight we shall go to Mr. -Muggridge and be married.” - -Tamea was suddenly thoughtful. “Since I have been away the wife of the -missionary has died, and he is mad about your Tamea. Before I left Riva -it was his habit to follow me about and in his eyes there was that look -I know and hate. I have been home a week and his madness has increased a -hundredfold. Dear one, I am afraid of him.” - -“You need not be,” Dan assured her and stroked the glorious head of her. -“I met Mr. Muggridge half an hour ago when I landed and I observed that -he seemed interested when I asked about you. He looked to me like a man -with a fire in his soul. . . . Well, he’s a minister of the Gospel, -however, so I dare say if he struggles hard enough he can put the fire -out long enough to pronounce us man and wife.” - -“But—a license is necessary if we would marry after the fashion of your -people, beloved,” she reminded him. “And there is no law in Riva, -although the island is claimed by the French Government.” - -“It will be better than no marriage at all, Tamea.” - -She smiled. “Such a queer, strange people, you all-whites,” was her -comment. “It is not a marriage but a substitute, yet you would ask this -man to perform a mummery to satisfy something in you that is a heritage -from your ancestors. I have no such heritage. For me, no mumbling of -words by this mad priest is necessary to happiness.” - -“Well, they are necessary to me, strange as it may seem to you, Tamea,” -Dan replied with his shy smile. “You are half white and I am all white -and it is my purpose to dwell with you on a white basis. Therefore, we -will wed according to the custom of my people.” - -“As you will,” Tamea agreed. “Is it that this matter touches your honor -if I will it otherwise?” - -He nodded. “Then come to Mr. Muggridge,” the girl urged, and led him by -the hand down the hill to the missionary’s house. Sooey Wan was standing -in the doorway and at sight of Tamea he uncovered respectfully. - -“Faithful one,” Tamea hailed him and gave him her hand in huge delight. -Sooey Wan shook it gingerly, his yellow teeth flashing the while in an -ecstatic grin. - -At the sound of voices and footsteps on the veranda, Mr. Muggridge came -out. “You have returned quite soon, Mr. Pritchard,” he began, and then -his glance rested on Tamea. “Well?” he demanded irritably. - -“Mr. Muggridge,” Dan said to him, “it is my desire that you should marry -Mademoiselle Larrieau and me at once.” - -The missionary grew pale and his somber eyes grew even more somber. “I -shall require her father’s permission before performing the ceremony, -Mr. Pritchard,” he said with an effort. - -“Her father is dead, Mr. Muggridge.” - -“Have you a license of any sort?” - -“No. Is it your custom to require a license when performing the marriage -ceremony between two of your converts?” - -“No, indeed. My people do not understand what a license is, and it has -been deemed unnecessary to insist upon it with these primitive people. -In your case, however——” - -“I understand that white man’s law is non-operative in Riva,” Dan -interrupted. “The sole regulations of this island have been promulgated -by you and other missionaries, have they not?” - -Mr. Muggridge nodded, his blazing eyes still fastened on Tamea. - -“Well,” Dan explained earnestly, “in the absence of white law I desire -you to marry me according to missionary law. I wish to feel that my -marriage has been sanctioned by a representative of a Christian faith. I -am a Christian.” - -“A true Christian would not marry this woman, sir.” - -“I did not come here to argue with you, Mr. Muggridge. It is my firm -intention to dwell in Riva with Tamea and I prefer to dwell with her in -accordance with the custom of my own people.” - -“I must decline to perform the ceremony,” said Muggridge doggedly. “In -your case, without a license, should I perform this ceremony, I would be -sanctioning your right to live with this woman in defiance of the law of -the land.” - -“But there is no law, Mr. Muggridge.” - -“There is,” said the missionary tersely. “I am the Law, and in this -matter I am inexorable.” - -“You’re a lunatic. You’re as crazy as a March hare,” Dan retorted hotly. - -“It is because he has looked upon me with desire,” said Tamea coolly. -“Come, beloved. It is foolish to argue with one who is quite mad.” - -She took his hand and led him back up the hill and out on to the edge of -the high headland that gave a view of the entire eastern coast of the -island. Inland, a high conical peak, which Dan now realized was a -volcano, lifted some four thousand feet into the sky, now rapidly -darkening as the sun sank. Still holding Dan’s hand, Tamea took her -stand beside him. - -“Dear one,” she said, “if you would take me to wife, then must it be -after the fashion of my people, since it is plainly impossible that it -can be after the fashion of yours. I think I understand how it is that -you would take me to wife. You would be very serious, very sincere, very -solemn. It is something you would not do lightly.” - -He nodded and the girl, turning, pointed to the volcano. From the crater -a rosy glow was beginning to appear, cast against the sky, and as -twilight crept over Riva this glow deepened. - -“My heart,” said Tamea softly, “is like unto the hot heart of Hakataua -yonder. Throughout the day the sunlight beats down the glow so that no -man may see it, but with the coming of night comes the glow that all men -may see it, even those afar at sea in ships. With the coming of night I -yearn for you, beloved; the flame of my desire burns high and I am -unashamed that I desire you as all true women must desire a mate.” She -turned and kissed him solemnly and tenderly. “I love you, heart of my -heart,” she told him, “and though I live to be as old as Hakataua, I -swear, by your God, never shall I love any man but you, Dan Pritchard. -And, loving you, I shall respect you and obey you, nor shall I bring -dishonor or shame upon you, my husband. Here, in the presence of the sea -and the earth and the sky, I make my promise. While I can make you happy -that promise shall hold, but when I can no longer please you then are -you released. For that is the way of my people.” - -“Here in the presence of God,” Dan Pritchard murmured, with bowed head -and a full heart, “I take thee, Tamea, for my lawful wife, to have and -to hold, in honor, always.” And he kissed her now, solemnly, tenderly, -without passion. - -“My husband,” she said happily, “now it will not be necessary to beg -that mad Muggridge to quench the fire in his soul.” - -“Poor devil,” Dan answered her, and together they returned to the green -bungalow. They found Sooey Wan sitting on the steps, mopping his high, -bony forehead. - -“Kitchen lady queen no hab got. Cookee no can do,” he complained -bitterly. “House where leavee trunk kitchen hab got. Cookee can do.” - -“You mean that missionary’s house, Sooey Wan?” - -The old Chinaman nodded. - -“Well, we’ll have to get along without his kitchen, I think, Sooey Wan.” -He turned to Tamea. “Have you no kitchen, dear? Strange that your father -should build and furnish a house such as this and yet not provide a -kitchen.” - -“When my father and I left Riva, we did not bother to take anything out -of this house. Upon my return many things were missing. All were -returned by my people with the exception of the stove, which fell from -the shoulders of the men who carried it and was destroyed.” - -“Sooey Wan isn’t accustomed to cooking over an open fire. He will be -continuously peeved and develop into a frightful nuisance.” - -“I shall have my serving women wait upon my husband,” Tamea assured him -lightly. “As for this servant of yours, let his task be the catching of -fish, which will provide him with amusement. He has labored long and -faithfully in your house, dear one. He has earned his rest.” - -“I hope he can see his way clear to take it,” Dan sighed. Then, turning -to his servant: “Sooey Wan, you’re retired. You do not have to cook any -more. From now on your job will consist in enjoying yourself. Tomorrow -we’ll find some sort of habitation for you, but for tonight park -yourself on the veranda.” - -Sooey Wan vouchsafed no reply, until Tamea had entered the house and he -found himself alone for a moment with his master. “Boss,” he then said -confidentially, “missionaly heap klazy. Look out. Sooey Wan look out.” -And he permitted the butt of a long-barreled Colt’s .45 to slide down -from his voluminous sleeve. “Sooey Wan no likee. That missionaly ketchum -devil inside heap plenty.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - - -Ten months had passed since Dan Pritchard had seen a human being whiter -than Tamea or talked English to a white man. He was acutely conscious of -this flight of time as he sat on the veranda of the green bungalow and -watched a schooner beating up the coast of Riva. - -“I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the Pelorus, Tamea,” he remarked. -“Even at this distance her lines look too fine for an ordinary trading -schooner. I hope she drops in. I’d like to have a visit with Hackett. -That man has a superior mind.” - -Tamea glanced sharply at him from under lowered lids. Her lips trembled -ever so slightly and she bit them to stop the trembling. At length she -said: “Yes, that is the Pelorus, dear heart. She will drop anchor in the -lagoon for the night and Hackett will come ashore to visit us. Doubtless -he has supplies for the mission.” - -“Won’t it be splendid to have him up for dinner, Tamea? Confound it, I -wish we had a really decent dinner to offer him. He must be as weary of -canned goods, chicken, fish and pig as I am.” - -To this Tamea made no reply, but her sweet face was slightly clouded as -she sat down at the piano and commenced picking out a hymn by ear. Her -basses were not very good, and the piano, hard driven for many a year -without tuning, rendering sterling assistance in the attack upon Dan’s -nerves. He rose and walked out of the house and down the hill to the -beach, where he sat on an upturned canoe and waited patiently for the -Pelorus to negotiate the opening in the reef. She did it prettily -enough, and as her anchor splashed overside and the harsh grating of the -chain in her hawse-pipe floated across the lagoon to Dan, for a reason -scarcely possible for analysis, a lump rose in his throat. - -Perhaps it was the impending drama of a meeting with his own kind after -ten months of alien association that thrilled him so, for he rose and -ran down to the wash of the surf on the white shingle, hallooing and -waving his arms. Two men on the poop waved back at him. One wore a -singlet, a short pair of white trousers and a Panama hat. The other was -arrayed in white linen and, at that distance, reminded Dan of a yacht -owner out with his guests for a cruise. - -The whaleboat splashed overboard and the two men dropped overside into -it and were rowed ashore. The man in the short breeks and singlet was -Captain Hackett. He leaped overboard as the whaleboat grounded and -splashed through the wash, with outstretched hand, his face wearing a -hearty but cynical smile. - -“How do you do, Mr. Pritchard?” he cried. “Do not bother to answer. I -know. You don’t do worth two squirts of bilge water.” He shook hands. -“Riva on your nerves a bit?” He laughed. “Well, they always wait for us -at the edge of the surf—the ‘back to nature and the simple life’ boys.” -He slapped the embarrassed Dan on the shoulder. “Got a friend of yours -with me.” He turned and waved toward a Kanaka sailor upon whose back was -just mounting, preparatory to being carried ashore so his feet would not -get wet, no less a person than—Mark Mellenger! - -“Mel!” Dan’s cry of welcome sounded suspiciously like a sob. “Mel, my -dear old friend! Lord, man, what a joy to see you again!” And he folded -Mellenger to his heart and was silent for a minute, fighting his -emotions. - -“It’s Thursday night, old son,” said Mellenger calmly, “so I thought I’d -drop around for dinner—as usual. Is Sooey Wan still dishing up the grub -in your Lares and Penates?” He cuffed Dan affectionately on the ear. -“I’m sort of halfway glad to see you again, Dan.” - -They walked up the beach to the Muggridge residence. Captain Hackett -paused beside the veranda and looked the house over critically. “Where -is the sky pilot?” he queried. - -“He’s dead, Captain. His wife died shortly before you were here last. -Before that he had been a little bit obsessed by Tamea and after his -wife’s death he rather went on the loose among the natives. I imagine he -was about half cracked——” - -“Half?” Hackett sneered, “All. He was half cracked when he came here, -otherwise he would not have come. His wife was the last tie that bound -him to his self-respect, and when she died, doubtless it commenced to -dawn on him that she had been a martyr to a cause not particularly worth -while. The heat and the loneliness killed her. I could see it coming.” - -“I dare say you are right, Captain. She was, as you say, the last tie -that bound him to his self-respect. Here, where there was no law save -his, after Gaston left and before I came, there was no longer any -incentive to remain a white man, and he started to degenerate. Religion -was not sufficient to sustain him. He had an uphill job here, at best, -and there was nothing to read except the Bible and he had known that by -heart for twenty years. I wouldn’t talk to him and neither would Tamea.” - -“Why?” - -“Because he was half crazy. When he wasn’t striving to convert Tamea he -was reviling her for an abandoned woman. Of course I had to put a stop -to that, and when I did he reviled me. Finally I warned him to stay off -the hill. But he wouldn’t. He came prowling up there one night and set -fire to our house. Sooey Wan caught him and we put out the fire before -any damage had been done. A week later I heard shooting outside our -veranda—three rifle shots and six pistol shots. Muggridge owned the -only rifle on the island and Sooey Wan owned the only pistol—and he -slept on the veranda. - -“In the morning Muggridge was gone, there were three bullet holes -through our house and Sooey Wan was cleaning his .45 with kerosene. He -said nothing and I asked no questions. I did not care to know.” - -“Comfortable old Chink, that, to have around one’s house,” Hackett -remarked dryly. “Well, I have a year’s supply of grub and trade goods -for the mission, so I suppose I might as well dump it here to await the -arrival of the successor to the mad Muggridge. It’s all paid for.” - -“Comforting. I’ll use it, Hackett.” - -Mellenger walked up into the mission house veranda and sat down. “It’s -as cool here as anywhere,” he reminded Dan. “I’d like to have a chat -with you, Dan, before I meet Tamea.” - -“Certainly, Mel.” - -“Well, while my crew is busy landing the supplies for the mission I’m -going up to your house and have a chin-chin with Tamea,” Captain Hackett -suggested. “By the way, Mr. Pritchard,” he added innocently, “did you -marry her?” - -Dan flushed. “Muggridge, in his insane jealousy, refused to perform the -ceremony without some sort of a license, procurable God knows where—or -when—so we—that is—well, we did the best we could without him.” - -The old sea dog went up the path to the hill, chuckling softly. - -“Mel,” Dan demanded the instant the captain was out of hearing, “what -under the canopy has brought you here?” - -“I came to get you and bring you home.” - -Dan shook his head. “My home is here, Mel.” He threw out his arm -tragically toward the east. “I’m quite through with all of that.” - -“Fortunately, you are not. Your private fortune and the business -formerly owned by Casson and Pritchard await your return. There’s a hole -amounting to approximately half a million dollars in your private -fortune but the business is all yours now and intact. As soon as you -appear to relieve the receiver of his task of managing your affairs, the -court will discharge him.” - -Dan Pritchard stared at his friend, wide unbelief in his glance. -“Explain yourself, Mel. This is most astounding.” - -“Some folks are fools for luck,” Mellenger sighed. “Banning and Company -paid forty-two cents on the dollar and that receiver managed to pry -fifty cents on the dollar out of the Katsuma estate. Other losses were -not as heavy as anticipated, and several of your heaviest debtors will -manage to pay out in three or four years, if your luck holds. The thing -that saved you, however, was a typhoon in the China Sea. The steamer -Malayan, with eight thousand tons of high-priced rice insured to its -full value, must have foundered in that typhoon, for she never reached -Havana and was eventually posted at Lloyd’s as missing. Consequently the -receiver collected the insurance, which put your business back on its -feet again. You’re still a rich man, Dan.” - -Dan Pritchard placed his elbows on his knees and covered his face with -his hands. He quivered a little. Mellenger ignored him. He lighted one -of Hackett’s Sumatra cigars and puffed away silently, gazing out to the -white water purling over the reef. - -“Peaceful spot, this,” he observed presently. “The Land of Never Worry. -How are you fixed for points of intellectual contact?” - -“I haven’t any,” Dan confessed in a strangled voice. - -“Been doing any painting, old son?” - -“Half a dozen canvases. They’re no good.” - -“You haven’t asked me about Maisie Morrison, Dan.” - -“I haven’t any right to, Mel.” - -“Then I shall tell you about her. She is in good health, but not very -happy. That is because she loves you. Splendid woman, Maisie. You made a -grave mistake by not marrying her. I told you to.” - -“I didn’t think she cared—that much.” - -“It appears she did. Everybody knew that except you, and sometimes I -think you suspected it, but were afraid to take a chance. If you had -your chance all over again, would you marry Maisie?” - -“Mel,” Dan admitted wretchedly, “any man is a fool to marry out of his -class. Tamea is a wonderful woman, but——” - -“I understand, my friend. It requires something more than love to -sustain love. Is Riva on your nerves?” - -Dan raised his haggard face from his hands. “Well, I am beginning to -understand Muggridge a little better lately,” he confessed. “And, unlike -poor Muggridge, I have nothing spiritual to cling to. Nothing but my -sanity, and sometimes when I reflect that all of my future life will be -like this——” - -“Ah, but it will not continue to be like this,” Mellenger interrupted -gently. “Tamea will see to that.” - -“Tamea is a lovely, wonderful child of nature. She is happy here—so -happy, Mel, that she will never, never be able to understand why I -cannot be happy, too.” - -“As usual,” Mellenger growled, “you continue to give abundant proof of -your monumental asininity and masculine ego. I have here a letter which -Tamea wrote Maisie three months ago, via the schooner Doris Crane.” - -Dan could only stare at him. “You know the Doris Crane, of course?” -Mellenger queried. - -“She came here three months ago for the accumulated trade. I was -pig-hunting on the northern coast of the island at the time, and missed -her. Mel, what could Tamea possibly have to write Maisie about?” - -“About you, fool.” - -“About me?” - -“None other. Hold your peace now, old son, while I read you her letter -to Maisie.” And Mellenger read: - - Riva, 16th August. - - Dear Maisie: - - Please read this letter from one who has spoiled much that was - beautiful, one who has taken the taste out of three lives, - yours, Dan Pritchard’s and my own. - - Maisie, Dan Pritchard is here with me. He is my husband, and to - me he is very kind and loving and faithful. When he came first - it was his desire to marry me according to the way of your - people, but the missionary here was mad and would not oblige - him, so we were married according to the desire of our hearts. - In the presence of the sea and the earth and the sky we swore, - each to the other, that we would love each other and dwell - together in honor. This we have done. But Dan is no longer - happy. Life slowly loses its taste for him, I have watched and I - know. He is very lonely, nor can all of my love compensate him - for the loss of his friends, for the loss of the world that was - his. I know he feels as sometimes I felt when I dwelled in his - house in San Francisco, and that is terrible. - - The thought has come to me that if Dan lives here he will some - day grow to hate me. And I shall some day be too unlovely to - hold him. These things cannot be helped. They are a part of - life. My love wearies him even now. He is nervous and unhappy - and sometimes he withdraws from my caresses, and last night in - his sleep he spoke of you and his sorrow because you had not - loved him. Perhaps you do not know this truth, Maisie, but men - can never love as women love. It is very foolish to expect this. - A woman can love one man until death, but a man can love two - women, or even more, but he will love best that woman who gives - to him the most comfort and peace of mind, the woman who makes - few demands and who refrains from forcing love upon him when he - is unhappy. - - Dan Pritchard does not like my people. We are as oil and water. - He does not like the food we have here, nor the heat nor the - rain nor the silence nor the loneliness. He would have his own - people about him. Alas, I would have mine about me. He fits not - into my world, nor can I ever fit into his. Therefore, it is - wise that we should part. I would not have him in unhappiness. - Rather would I die. - - Maisie, come for him. Please! Evil will befall him if you do - not. If you love him as I think you do, you will come; nor will - pride—the false pride of a woman—keep you from your happiness. - Dan was always your man, Maisie. Never was he truly mine. I do - not know why, but this is true. I would give him back to you, - Maisie. Please come. - - TAMEA - -Mellenger folded the letter and put it back in his pocket. Dan hid his -face in his hands and wept. - -“Poor child,” Mellenger murmured. “She has never heard that pity is akin -to love—that she stirred in you all the profound pity and tenderness of -your naturally kind and chivalrous heart. I wouldn’t feel so badly about -it if I were you, Dan. You weep now because your love lies dead and you -have killed it. You merely made a very human mistake. So did Tamea. But -she realizes it and has the courage to confess it. Old son, your romance -is at an end.” - -“I shall not abandon her, Mel,” Dan cried brokenly. “My unhappiness -shall not be paid off against hers. She’s too tremendously fine, too -noble.” - -“That is true. She is too tremendously fine, too noble, to permit you to -dramatize yourself for her sake. There is only one sacrifice necessary -here, and Tamea is making it—gladly, without regret and all because she -possesses in full measure a love so wonderful, so glorious that no man -can ever possibly understand it or appreciate it. There will be no -pandering to your ego, my son. You are no longer infatuated with Tamea, -she knows it and you might as well acknowledge it. Heroics are quite -unnecessary. Tamea, I take it, does not desire them and I shall not -permit them.” - -“But Maisie. What of her, Mel?” - -“Well, when she received this letter she sent for me and gave it to me -to read. She knew I was your friend so she sought my counsel. I asked -her pointblank if she loved you and she said she did. I asked her why -she had permitted you to escape and she told me. I think I can -understand her point of view. Then I asked her if she had any conception -of your point of view in this triangle and she said she thought she -understood enough of it to forgive you. I know you rather well, Dan, and -I tried to paint for Maisie a word picture of you as I know you. I told -her that you had never been truly in love with Tamea but rather in love -with love. - -“It is your nature to idealize everything. You yearned for a high -romance and Tamea was a romantic figure. She appealed to you physically -and romantically. She aroused your pity, she stirred you and set your -soul afire, and neither of you knew that it was the sort of -conflagration that burns itself out and leaves only a heap of -ashes—ashes of sorrow and regret. I tried to make Maisie see that it -was largely her fault. She had declined to reach forth and possess you -as Tamea, in her primitive innocence, did not hesitate to do. - -“I asked her if the memory of this escapade of yours would cloud her -future happiness, if she should marry you, and she said she thought she -could manage to forget it.” Mellenger paused and gazed out to sea -through half closed eyes. “As a matter of fact,” he continued, “there is -not the slightest necessity that anybody in our world need know what has -happened. You have merely been knocking around the isles of the South -Sea, painting and enjoying yourself. Nobody knows except Tamea, Maisie, -you, Hackett and myself—and none of us will ever tell.” - -“But, Mel, Maisie refused to marry me. If she had, this would never have -happened.” - -“You are a sublimated idiot. You never told Maisie that you loved her. -Women love love, too. You dawdled around, wishful to have your cake and -eat it, hating the freedom of your bachelorhood, yet dreading to abandon -it, restless, perturbed, unhappy—ah, you’re a _nut_. Understand? A -NUT!” - -By his silence under fire Dan admitted the truth of this charge and -instantly the great-hearted Mellenger was sorry he had spoken. He laid -his hand gently on his friend’s shoulder. - -“Buck up, old son,” he pleaded. “At least you’ve done your best to be a -gentleman all through this affair. Maisie understands that.” - -“Tamea asked Maisie to come and get me. Did she come? Is she here?” - -“She is aboard the Pelorus now. Old Casson and his wife think she is in -Tahiti. Nothing wrong with taking a summer trip to Tahiti, is there? -What the old folks do not know will not worry them. Well, we came down -on the same steamer and in the harbor at Tahiti we found the Pelorus. -When I told Hackett that I wanted to charter his vessel for a passage to -Riva, he eyed me curiously and said he had been expecting somebody to -come along and charter him for that trip. Then it developed that he knew -you. He wanted more money than Maisie and I could scrape up, but when I -informed him of this he said he’d collect the deficit at Riva. Said he’d -draw a draft on your Chinese bank. So he cleaned up a stateroom for -Maisie and shipped a real cook. He has an ice plant in his hold and we -had a pleasant trip. Hackett is a most agreeable man and for a monetary -consideration is prepared to carry us all directly to San Francisco.” - -“Sorry, but I can’t go,” Dan repeated doggedly. “Nor will I inflict on -myself the pain of seeing Maisie.” - -“Better toddle along home and talk it over with Tamea,” his friend -suggested patiently. “You may change your mind after that.” - -Without a word Dan left him. On the way up the hill he met the master of -the Pelorus coming down. “I’ll send up a couple of my boys to carry down -your trunk,” he told Dan. “Your Tamea is packing it now.” And he smiled -his knowing little smile and continued on toward the mission. - -Tamea met Dan as he came up the stairs. “Tamea, dear,” he began, “what -does this mean?” - -“You have talked to Mellenger. You know what it means. When I took you -for my husband, _chéri_, I said: ‘I will take you and cherish you only -so long as I may make you happy.’ That time has passed. You are no -longer happy, so I have arranged that you shall leave me. There must be -no argument.” - -“Tamea,” he almost groaned, “I cannot bear to break your heart.” - -She smiled sadly. “My heart will not be broken. It will be hurt but time -will cure that. I do not wish you to remain longer. If you do I shall be -much more unhappy than if you go away. You will, perhaps, not -understand, but these are true words, dear one. We have both made a -large mistake and it would be foolish not to admit it and strive to mend -that mistake.” - -He bowed his head. “And you truly desire this, Tamea?” - -“With all my heart,” she answered. She came to him and placed her arms -around his neck. “Love of my life,” she said softly, and in her voice -the stored-up pathos and longing of her shattered life vibrated, “you -will kiss me once and then you will go—quickly.” - -“Oh, sweetheart!” he moaned. - -“Sh-h,” she pleaded. “I desire this parting, dear love, and because I -desire it I have been to some pains and expense to accomplish it. Here -you are as a fish cast up on the beach. You gasp and struggle for life -and in the end you will die—living. I understand, darling. _Chéri_, -believe me, I understand truly, and there is naught to grieve over.” - -She kissed him and clung to him, wet-eyed and trembling, but resolute. -“Now, dear love, you will go,” she whispered, “nor will you look back as -you descend the hill. And sometimes you will think of your Tamea who -loved you better than you will ever be loved again. Adieu, my husband.” - -She left him abruptly. He stood for about a minute, his thoughts -inchoate, his brain numbed; yet, out of the chaos of his conflicting -emotions there rose, almost subconsciously, the tiniest flicker of -relief. He hated himself for it. He felt low and mean and treacherous, -felt that he had played a sorry part, indeed, yet he had not meant to do -this, nor had he even contemplated doing it. The situation existed, that -was all, nor could any power of his or Tamea’s alter it in the -slightest. As well strive to restrain a falling star! - -His heart constricted, his eyes blurred with tears of sorrow and shame, -he turned away at last and stumbled down the path to the Muggridge -bungalow. Hackett and Mellenger, seeing him coming, walked around to the -opposite side of the house, in order that he might be spared the -humiliation of knowing they had seen him with his soul laid bare. -Straight for the whaleboat, drawn up at the edge of the wash, Dan -headed, and the Kanaka sailors, seeing him coming, ran the boat into the -surf until it floated; there they held it, waiting; and when Dan -Pritchard climbed wearily in, they pulled him out to the Pelorus. - -Up on the veranda of the mission house Captain Hackett produced two of -his famous Sumatra cigars. “We’ll give him a couple of hours in which to -straighten out his record with Miss Morrison,” the maritime philosopher -suggested. “Smoke up.” - -Mellenger took the cigar, but he did not light it. “I think I shall make -a brief call on Tamea,” he declared. “I really think she would enjoy -seeing me, and until the Pelorus leaves Riva, I imagine Tamea will have -herself rather well under control. How does one reach her habitation?” - -Hackett described the way and Mellenger left him. On the steps of -Tamea’s home he found Sooey Wan seated; the old Chinaman looked angry -and disconsolate, but at sight of Mellenger his yellow fangs showed in a -glad smile of welcome. He rose, proffered his hand, which Mellenger -grasped heartily, and for several seconds they stood, looking into each -other’s faces; then the look of desolation sifted back over Sooey Wan’s -face and he shook his head dolefully. - -“Missa Mel,” he quavered, “evelybody clazy. Pitty soon Sooey Wan clazy, -too.” - -“Yes, Sooey, my friend,” Mellenger replied, “everybody is. In fact, I’m -half crazy myself. Where is Tamea?” - -Sooey Wan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Lady queen packum tlunk, -Missa Mel.” - -Mellenger entered the house. In the center of the living room Tamea sat, -folding Dan’s well worn linen and packing it away in trunk trays. She -looked up at his entrance—and stared unbelievingly a moment before -scrambling to her feet and rushing to him with outstretched arms. - -“Mellengair! Mellengair, my friend!” she cried, and then she was sobbing -out, upon that great, understanding heart, the agony she had seen fit to -repress in the presence of Dan. He held her to him, stroking the -beautiful head but saying nothing, for he knew that her full heart was -emptying itself, that she would be the better for her tears. - -Presently she ceased to sob, but still she clung to him; long, -heart-breaking sighs finally told Mellenger that she was getting herself -under control once more. Gently he lifted her face and with his own -handkerchief dried her eyes. “Poor Tamea!” he murmured. “Poor, unhappy, -misunderstood waif!” - -“Do not pity me, my friend,” she pleaded. “It is the fate of half-breeds -to dwell in a world apart; in time we learn to make the best of it.” She -smiled wanly. “It was, perhaps, unfortunate for me that my father was -Gaston of the Beard. He put upon me the imprint of his own soul. So I -see too clearly, I understand too readily, I feel too deeply.” She -lifted his great hand and laid her cheek against the back of it. “Once I -hurt you, Mellengair. I am sorry. I have wept many tears because I have -called you Stoneface.” - -“Don’t! Please don’t!” he pleaded hoarsely. “I didn’t mind. Really, I -didn’t.” - -“You are a kind liar.” She kissed his hand humbly. “And now,” she added, -with just a suspicion of a quaver in her voice, “it is your friend, -Tamea, who is Stoneface—always to look out to sea for that which -came—and went—and will never, never come again.” - -Mellenger’s poker face twitched ever so slightly. “I am here to help -you. Tell me how.” - -“There can be no help, Mel. Dan is very unhappy with me. He loves me, -but he is not happy with me, and it has come to the knowledge that never -can the poor boy be happy with me. Great unhappiness is stronger than -great love. It will kill love—and I have watched and his love is dying. -I would have him leave me, loving me. If he remains he will grow mad, -like that missionary Muggridge. Something in him that is fine and very -like a little boy will wither and die.” - -Mellenger nodded and Tamea continued: “To Dan also has been given the -gift of seeing too clearly, understanding too readily, feeling too -deeply.” - -“Dan is my friend,” said Mellenger. “He has many virtues. He is lovable. -But he is too much given to introspection. He thinks too much about -himself and too little about others. He has not known great happiness -and he has been eager to protect the little he has known. He has a -restless soul, always poised for flight. In a word, he is utterly -selfish and doesn’t know it. He would be highly insulted if he heard me -say so, and he knows as much about women as a pig does about the -binomial theorem.” - -Tamea smiled wistfully. “Yes, he knows little of women. He is not -observing, and, as you say, I think it is because he thinks overmuch -about what each new day may bring him. I am to be the mother of his -child, but he does not know this—and I have, for reasons of my own, not -told him.” - -“Ah!” Mellenger gasped. “That complicates matters. You are not married, -I take it.” - -“No, not the way you take it. You will not tell this to Dan, of course.” - -“Of course I shall. If he is the father of your child he shall not evade -the responsibility of fatherhood, although, to do him full justice, I do -not think it would ever occur to him to evade it.” - -“In his world, Mellengair, it is not quite _au fait_ to be the father of -a quarter-bred Polynesian child while still a bachelor.” - -“It would be regarded as embarrassing.” - -“I would not have Dan embarrassed.” - -“You can obviate the embarrassment. Come with us to Tahiti and marry Dan -legally before the child is born. Nobody in his world, then, need know.” - -“I could not be happy in Dan’s world any more than he can be happy in -mine. You do not seem to understand, Mellengair. I love him. I do not -delude myself, my friend. If I want him I can hold fast to him. I know -my power. But I love him too greatly to hold him when the holding will -smash his life. It is better that I should smash my own, for look you, -Mellengair,” she explained with an odd wistfulness, “I am but Tamea, the -half-caste Queen of Riva. I am old—very old—and I—I do not matter. I -have known the fulness of life. I am content. I cannot leave this land -in which the roots of my soul will ever cling; always when I dwelt with -Dan Pritchard in San Francisco I heard the sound of the surf on the reef -yonder I heard the sigh of these coco-palms, I heard the songs and the -woes of my people. You will, perhaps, not understand, Mellengair, but I -know that I am right.” - -He bowed his head. He knew she was right, knew that only a great and -noble soul could so calmly enunciate such a bitter truth. The old, -immutable law of existence could not be shattered. Kind begets kind, -yearns for it, is happy with nothing else. Human beings, habituated to -their environment, cast in certain molds of evolution, may not progress -forward or backward when such progression is not a part of the Infinite -Plan. To attempt it is ruinous; to defy that immutable law—particularly -in the case of super-intelligences like Dan and Tamea—invites disaster. - -“Dan Pritchard will go tonight and I shall not see him again,” Tamea -said, following the long silence while Mellenger revolved this sad -puzzle in his poor brain. “Farewells do but bear down the heart, and if -I do not see him again it will be much easier for him, poor dear. He -knows I love him. Why, then, tell him this at parting, why hurt him with -my tears, why subject him to the shame of having me see him bent and -broken? He will go. He greatly desires to go, and I know why, and it is -the law and I am not embittered. Nothing matters in life save that human -beings shall know true happiness—and I have known that. When my baby -comes I shall know it again. I have in me the blood of my mother, and we -were proud of our line. And I have in me the blood of my father and he -was brave and laughed when the seas boiled over the knightheads. I too -shall laugh.” - -“I dare say you do not care to visit Maisie, or have her visit you.” - -“You are right. You are always right, dear Stoneface. I give to her the -man she loves, the man who, in the bottom of his heart, has always loved -her, the man I took from her. From me he has learned something of life; -at least I have not hurt him, nor have I dwelt with him in dishonor. He -will be comforted by Maisie; life will have a taste for him again; and -of his life here with me, none in his world should ever know. You see, I -understand your people, Mellengair,” she added, with that same odd, -twisted, wistful little smile. “It is that you do not like to be found -out.” - -Fell a silence. “You will go now, please, and take Dan Pritchard with -you. Sooey Wan is ready and the sailors from the Pelorus will come for -his trunk.” She gave him her hand. - -“May I kiss you, Tamea?” he whispered, and there was that in his -deep-set, unlovely eyes, in his poker face, that might have been seen in -the face of Christ, writhing on the Cross. She lifted her face to his -and he kissed her, very tenderly, on each cheek, after the fashion of -her father’s people. Then he left her, and he descended the hill to the -beach. - -“Well?” said Hackett, as Mellenger came up on the Muggridge veranda and -heaved himself wearily into a chair. - -“I have just talked with the finest woman God Almighty ever made,” -Mellenger replied huskily. “Compared with her the noblest of men is so -low he could kiss a flounder without bending his knees.” He thoughtfully -bit the end off the cigar Hackett had given him and the latter struck a -match and held it to the tip of the cigar. “Brave, like her father,” -Mellenger continued. “Faces the issue without cringing. She is -magnificent—perfectly tremendous!” - -“Well, that’s a comfort, Mr. Mellenger.” - -Fell a silence. Then: “Captain Hackett, when you return to the Pelorus, -please send my dunnage ashore and have one of your men dump it in this -veranda. I have decided to remain in Riva. I do not fancy that long trip -home with Dan and Maisie. My presence would make them both -uncomfortable, and I am quite finished with my self-appointed task of -directing that man’s love affairs. He’s a fine man but a poor lover.” - -“Nonsense, Mr. Mellenger,” Hackett urged. “The Pelorus is a hundred and -thirty feet long and there is room enough aboard her to make yourself -scarce.” - -“Well, I have other reasons for staying. Unlike Dan Pritchard, I have no -dollars calling me back. All I had was a heart-breaking job on a -newspaper and I chucked that forever when I started for Riva. I have -never had a vacation and I have a notion I’ll enjoy knocking around in -the islands. At any rate, I’m going to remain. Having no conscience to -speak of, I will help myself to the supplies you are going to land for -this deserted mission. I shall get along quite nicely.” - -“There is no accounting for the ways of white men,” Captain Hackett -declared. “Here comes the whaleboat, loaded with supplies.” He held out -his hand. “Happy days, Mr. Mellenger.” - -“Thank you. Good-by. Do not tell Dan I have stayed. He might take it -into his fool head to come ashore and argue with me. And the next time -you happen to be passing along the coast of Riva, drop in and say howdy. -I might be ready to leave at that time.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXX - - -When Dan Pritchard descended into the main cabin of the Pelorus, he -found Maisie seated there. She stared at him a moment, not recognizing -in the brown, somewhat unkempt figure at the foot of the companion, the -man she had known and loved in another world. - -“It is I—Dan,” he told her. - -Maisie made no effort to rise. She knew she was unequal to the effort. -“I—I came—to see if you—cared to come home, Dan,” she said with -difficulty. “Tamea wrote—asked me to come and get you. It has been very -hard for me to do this, Dan. Perhaps you can understand why.” - -He came and took her hand in both of his, but made no movement toward a -more affectionate greeting. He was not quite equal to such disloyalty so -soon, even though at sight of Maisie his heart thrilled wildly. “I can -understand your reluctance to running after any man, Maisie,” he -answered her. “Least of all myself.” - -“This situation is perfectly amazing. I cannot, even now, understand why -I have come here, Dan.” - -“Perhaps it would be just as well not to try to understand some things, -Maisie,” he pleaded. “Do you think it is possible for us to take up our -lives where they were when we saw each other last? You know all about -me, of course.” - -“Mark Mellenger was at some pains to attempt a long, scientific and, at -times, reasonable, defense of masculine weaknesses in general and of -yours in particular. Somehow, Dan, I cannot feel that you have been -either weak or wicked. It—it—just happened. I cannot conceive that you -would ever be less than a gentleman.” - -He bowed his head. “I have tried to be that, Maisie, although today I do -not feel that I have succeeded. But I cannot do otherwise than leave -Tamea. I do not think it would have occurred to me to leave her, no -matter how bitter the price of staying, but—she willed it otherwise. We -have parted without bitterness; I want you to know that so long as I -live she shall remain a holy and tender memory.” - -“You love her?” Maisie choked on the query. - -“I love her as one loves a beautiful and lovable child; for the nobility -of soul she possesses I feel a tremendous reverence.” - -“I understand—being a woman. You have entertained for me something of -that same affection, I think. Well, it is no fault of yours, is it, if -you mistook infatuation for love?” - -“Perhaps, at some future date, Maisie, it will not seem so—so -terrible—to discuss so intimately my feelings toward you or toward -Tamea. I only know that—at last—I am quite certain of myself. I tried -my best to play the game with Tamea, but I wasn’t smart enough to -conceal my true feelings from her, once those feelings became apparent -to myself. She has the mind of a warlock. I—I—tried to love her, -but—oh, my God, forgive me—we were as oil and water. We could not mix. -I couldn’t stand this place. There is beauty here and peace; life -tiptoes by so serenely that the sameness of the days was driving me mad. -I had no social intercourse—no points of intellectual contact—and -every relative of Tamea’s, no matter how distantly related—was dwelling -under the mantle of our—of her—philanthropy. She loves them all and -hasn’t the heart to drive them away. It is the custom and she is the -last of her blood. She will not alter the custom. I hate the food, I -hate the smell of decaying vegetation, I hate the rain, I hate the -music, I hate the sunshine—and the loneliness would, eventually, have -driven me insane. That’s what it did to Muggridge. I did some sketching -the first few months. Since then I have had no heart for it. My mind is -back in San Francisco; I can’t shake off the memories of the old life. -Tamea spends her days adoring me—and I’m sick of it. _I’m sick of it, I -tell you. I’m fed up on love. I’m—I’m_——” - -Maisie managed to stand up. She placed her hands on Dan’s shoulders. -“Buck up, old booby,” she murmured, with something of the adorable -camaraderie that had charmed him so in happier days. “You are the victim -of a terrible tragedy and so is poor Tamea. But she was wise enough to -see that something radical had to be done—and she did it. You see, -Dan’l, you weren’t truly in love with Tamea and I knew it all the time. -You were in love with love, or perhaps your pity led you, like a -will-o’-the-wisp. At any rate, it’s all over and nobody shall ever know -and—and—I love you, Dan. I never thought I would be brave enough, or -unmaidenly enough, to tell you this. But I know you love me, Dan. I knew -it long before Tamea flashed across your life like a meteor and swept -you off your silly old feet. I was weak, or I would have saved you—and -when I found I could manage the strength, you were gone and it was too -late. You’ve been such an old stupid. I should have made allowance for -you, because I know you so well. . . . Well, I am here—and nothing that -has happened matters any more. There, there you go with that sad old -Abraham Lincoln look again—and now I’ll have to be friend Maisie -again.” - -She forced him down into a seat and he laid his arms on the cabin table -and buried his face in them, in order that Maisie might not see the -agony in his soul. “Nobody can ever understand except one who has had -the experience,” he tried to explain. “Tamea is all white—and half -native. She gazes upon life native-fashion—she’s a tragic -contradiction. I could never quite know what was in her mind when she -gazed upon me so sweetly and tragically and she could never quite know -what was in mine.” - -“Ah, but she did know, poor dear,” Maisie contradicted. “She has proved -that she knew.” - -“She is old—old, with the wisdom of the aged and the philosophy of -patriarchs——” - -“And the heart of a woman, Dan.” - -“No, the heart of a child.” - -Maisie smiled wistfully. Poor old booby Dan’l! He would never, never -know that a woman is always a child! Because she had tact and more -imagination than Dan Pritchard had ever given her credit for possessing, -she left him and went up on deck. - -At sunset the Pelorus passed out of the lagoon and as her bow lifted to -the long, lazy rollers beyond the outer reef, Dan Pritchard, from her -quarter-deck, through a mist gazed back on his Paradise lost. High up on -the headland where Tamea’s home nestled in the grove, a white figure, -silhouetted against the sunset glow, waved to him. And presently, as the -Pelorus drew clear of the coast and the full force of the trades bellied -her canvas, to send her ramping toward the horizon, that white figure -slowly faded; the last Dan Pritchard saw of Riva was the steadily -deepening glow of the hot heart of Hakataua, pulsating against the -purple sky. And whatever thoughts occurred to him in that supreme moment -were never given utterance, for Maisie came and stood beside him and -said: - -“Don’t be ashamed of it, Dan, dear. I understand. Truly, I do.” - -“It will be terrible if you do not, Maisie, for I have lived to be too -thoroughly understood—I who am not worth understanding.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI - - -When the last sunlight faded from the earth and the sea and the swift -tropic twilight had swallowed the Pelorus, Tamea cast herself upon the -earth and beat it with her beautiful hands, sobbing aloud, in the -language of her mother’s people, the agony of her broken heart. Upon her -the gods had rained the supreme blow and she could no longer stand erect -and take it smiling. Upon the pungent, fetid earth she groveled in her -despair until, utterly spent, she lay like a beautiful wilted lily, an -occasional long, constricted gasp alone giving evidence that she still -lived—and suffered. - -After a long time a voice spoke in the semi-darkness. - -“Tamea! Stoneface is speaking.” - -The girl started up. “Mellengair! You have not gone?” - -“Did I not tell you once, Tamea, that I loved you? That when you too -were a Stoneface, with your flower face in the dust, I would love you -more than ever, because your child’s heart would have been broken? And -did I not tell you that I would lift you up and hold you to my heart and -comfort you? Behold, Tamea, these hands outthrust to you.” And with the -words he lifted her from the ground and held her against his great -breast. “Poor child!” he kept murmuring, and stroked her hair. - -“Oh, why did you stay?” she sobbed. “I do not love you, Mel. You are to -me a true friend only.” - -“I do not ask for love, Tamea,” he replied gently. “I seek service. I -thought I would stay until your baby should be born—it seemed I ought -to wait awhile and see that all goes well with you, child.” - -“My race is dying. I too shall die, and that soon. Life has lost its -taste, and when my baby has been born—my friend, when such as we have -lost our taste for life, life departs. We do not live for the coward’s -love of life, but for life’s joys.” - -“But the baby,” he reminded her. - -“I will give him to you, my friend. Would you not care to have my son -and love him as your own?” - -The poker face twitched, the unlovely eyes blinked a little. Mel bowed -his head affirmatively. - -“I have an illness—here,” Tamea murmured, and placed her hand on her -side. “It is the lung disease that comes to so many of us Polynesians, -and when I knew my length of life was measured by but a year or two, I -did not hesitate. I had to make haste, since I did not desire Dan to -grow like Muggridge in his mind. Muggridge was here too long, too long -removed from his kind; in striving to draw my people upward, he drew -himself downward. I would not have Dan remember me as a thin and haggard -invalid, old before my time, no longer beautiful. Do you understand, -Mellengair?” - -“I understand.” - -“I have money. You know how much my father left me. When I am gone you -will take it and my child, both for your own. You are a poor man in your -own land, wherefore you must have money to dwell in contentment. And you -will never tell Dan Pritchard I have borne him a child, because that -would render him unhappy. And you will raise my child as a full white, -in white ways, and none shall know that my baby’s mother was a -half-breed Polynesian. Understand, I am not ashamed of my blood, -but”—through her tears she smiled the odd, wistful little smile—“it is -inconvenient. There are some who might regard my blood as base and -remind my child of it in years to come. In a three-quarter white none -but the very wise, the very observant, can tell the blood of the other -quarter.” - -He held her close to him and stroked her wonderful black hair. “Poor -child,” he kept saying, “poor child.” And finally: “Remember, I do not -ask for love, but service.” - -“I understand, dear, kind Stoneface. We are two with stone faces now, -are we not, my friend?. . . Well, you shall take me to my house, and -then you shall go to the house of Muggridge and dwell there until the -period of service shall be over. Or,” she added, “until it shall begin!” - -She lifted his big hand and kissed it. “My friend,” she whispered, “my -good, kind friend!” - -“Poor child,” said Mellenger. “Poor, poor child!” - - THE END - - - - - TRANSCRIBER NOTES - - -Mis-spelled words and printer errors have been corrected. 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