a pair of pop-eyed tourists, eh?"

"Right, first shot!" cried Little jubilantly. "Then the _Barang_ picks
us up. Cap'n Barry takes command. And it's Yo-heave-ho! on the briny
billows in a bouncing brigantine! Coming, ain't you?"

"Sure!" grinned Barry, and thrust his free brown fist into Houten's
great paw. Little was pumping furiously at the other hand.

CHAPTER TWO

In mid-forenoon of the second day's train ride, Little and Barry were
forced to cool their heels at Solo Junction while the train waited for
the tardy Samarang connection.

The typewriter salesman was a keen man in his line of business, but he
had never used his senses to much ulterior purpose while traveling about
the East; he was much more concerned with a prospective customer's
financial status than with the surroundings in which the customer lived.

Now while fuming over the delay, Little stepped out on the platform and
abruptly awoke to the fact that sheer beauty was riot in Java, if one's
eyes were but opened to it. Hedges of lantana were not new to him, they
were common from end to end of the island; but not until now had he
appreciated the warm magenta coloring of gorgeous poinsettias and
bougainvillea, the glowing-hearted, waxy white flowers of frangipani;
not until now did he realize the prodigality of Nature towards Java in
the matter of weird and awesome fruits and vegetables.

He stood in wonder, gazing at the pendant fruit of a heavily laden
sausage tree, for all the world like queerly colored, succulent
sausages, garnished with brilliant green foliage; his wonder lasted
until a coolie passed to windward of him munching on a great chunk of
prickly durian, which fruit combines the flavor of ambrosia with the
odor of a gasworks. He retreated incontinently, bursting in upon Barry
who had remained in the train, and almost knocking over a lady who was
hastily leaving. Apologizing confusedly, Little bore down on the sailor.

"Phe-e-ew!" he gasped. "You're one wise old fox, Barry. Seen all this
stuff before, hey? Say, there's a coolie outside eating armor-plated
limburger, ten years defunct! Enjoying it, too. And I've just seen a
tree full o' hot-dogs! Honest, Barry--Hullo, old boy, why the blushes?
Why all the figuring?"

Barry sat in the big soft seat of the first-class carriage, a scrap of
paper on one knee, a pencil chewed to splinters between his teeth. His
brow was puckered into deep lines above troubled eyes which stared
abs