involuntarily looked
for windmills. A few of the old houses were still occupied as offices,
and at one of these, where a native _kampong_ nestled and stank beneath
the rank shrubbery to one side, the _sadoe_ drew up.

"Houten's," announced Little, recovering speech. Bidding the _sadoe_
driver wait, he led Barry inside the office.

A Javanese boy bowed them into a room where nothing was in evidence save
a punkah, a giant porcelain stove, a huge desk and chair, and a monster
man. Cornelius was fleshy to enormity. He was very like a mammoth but
benevolent spider. Wealthy as he was fat, while many men had cursed him,
many more had blessed him. His business interests were wide and
complex, reached into many fields, and usually came to a good end. Also,
to be the accredited agent of Cornelius Houten was in itself a
recommendation as to probity and worth greatly to be desired. Rarely did
his judgment err; the men who had failed to measure up to his estimate
of them were extremely few.

He acknowledged Barry with a grunt to Little's introduction, and
motioned his visitors to two chairs silently produced by the Javanese
boy. He sat in ponderous silence for a space, his piggy eyes dwelling on
Barry with steel-point steadiness, his great hands resting idly on the
desk before him. Then he spoke,--in thick, heavy English.

"Good man. You will command my _Barang_, Captain Barry?"

"Not too swift, Mynheer," chimed in Little. "Run over the business again
for Barry, hey? Give him a chance to kick."

Houten maintained his steady gaze. "You have master's papers, of course,
Captain Barry?"

Barry produced his certificate and discharges and laid them on the desk.
Houten glanced through them and pushed them back with a nod. Then his
gaze switched to Little.

"You can tell him," he said, and Little leaped at the chance to talk
again.

"This is it," the ex-salesman began eagerly. He watched Houten
incessantly for hint or encouragement. "Houten made one of his rare
miscues on a man, Barry. One time in a thousand. Englishman, name of
Gordon. Manager of a trading post in Celebes. Gordon sends back small
parcels of trade but sends a lot of gold dust to a fellow in
Surabaya--old capital of Java, y' know.

"Evidently Gordon has located a gold-bearing river on the concession and
is swiping the dust. Tells Mynheer a lot of lies to quiet him, Houten
wants me to ferret out this Surabaya duck, get the hang o' things, then
go out after Miste