I’ll make it square with the old lady. You can have your pick of the lot for a plug of tobacco,” he added, sneering. 

 I suppose it was the smile stuck in my memory, for I spoke back sharp. “She doesn’t look that sort,” I cried. 

 “I don’t know that she is,” said Case. “I believe she’s as right as the mail. Keeps to herself, don’t go round with the gang, and that. O no, don’t you misunderstand me—Uma’s on the square.” He spoke eager, I thought, and that surprised and pleased me. “Indeed,” he went on, “I shouldn’t make so sure of getting her, only she cottoned to the cut of your jib. All you have to do is to keep dark and let me work the mother my own way; and I’ll bring the girl round to the captain’s for the marriage.” 

 I didn’t care for the word marriage, and I said so. 

 “Oh, there’s nothing to hurt in the marriage,” says he. “Black Jack’s the chaplain.” 

 By this time we had come in view of the house of these three white men; for a negro is counted a white man, and so is a Chinese! a strange idea, but common in the islands. It was a board house with a strip of rickety verandah. The store was to the front, with a counter, scales, and the poorest possible display of trade: a case or two of tinned meats; a barrel of hard bread; a few bolts of cotton stuff, not to be compared with mine; the only thing well represented being the contraband, firearms and liquor. “If these are my only rivals,” thinks I, “I should do well in Falesá.” Indeed, there was only the one way they could touch me, and that was with the guns and drink. 

 In the back room was old Captain Randall, squatting on the floor native fashion, fat and pale, naked to the waist, grey as a badger, and his eyes set with drink. His body was covered with grey hair and crawled over by flies; one was in the corner of his eye—he never heeded; and the mosquitoes hummed about the man like bees. Any clean-minded man would have had the creature out at once and buried him; and to see him, and think he was seventy, and remember he had once commanded a ship, and come ashore in his smart togs, and talked big in bars and consulates, and sat in club verandahs, turned me sick and sober. 

 He tried to get up when I came in, but that was hopeless; so he reached me a hand instead, and stumbled out some salutation. 

 “Papa’s [1] pretty full this morning,” observed Case. “We’ve had an epidemic here; and Captain Randall takes gin for a 

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