," he said, offhand. "Just a moment, while I chuck this stuff
in the storeroom."

He turned and tramped out through the rear without a glance behind
him--and left Junius Peabody there alone before the bar.

He was gone perhaps five minutes, quite as much as that, an ample space
of time. When he came back there was no glass in sight. It had vanished,
and the room reeked with the fumes of a very flagrant distillation of
French brandy. He looked his customer up and down and his lids lowered a
trifle.

"Well, how did you like the flavor?"

The face of Junius Peabody was like a death's-head, but the eyes in his
sockets blazed with a light all their own, and, standing there erect,
standing square on his two legs with his feet braced apart, he
swore--somewhat inexpertly, it was true, but still quite heartily; good,
crisp profanity such as one able man may use with another--until
Bendemeer's puzzled gaze caught the sparkle of broken glass lying in a
great splash of liquid in a corner of the floor. "I'm going to Nukava!"
cried Junius Peabody. "And you see--you see there are some scraps thrown
up on the beach that are worth something after all, and be damned to
you, Bendemeer!"

Bendemeer's grip shot out as if against his volition and after an
instant's hesitation Peabody took it. He did not yet know all the trader
had done for him, perhaps would never know, but on the inscrutable front
of that remarkable man was a faint glow curiously unlike a loser's
chagrin.

"So it seems," acknowledged Bendemeer. "So it seems"--and smiled a
little, rather oddly....

* * * * *

Bendemeer was still smiling that way, all by himself, an hour or so
later when he had watched the _Likely Jane_ lay her course for Nukava
with the new agent on board and had gone down into his storeroom to put
the place to rights. There was a clutter of odds and ends of cargo that
had been spilled from an upset surfboat the day before. Most of it had
been salvaged by his Kanaka boys along shore, but a certain broken tub
containing tallow had lost part of its contents. However, he was able
now to restore a large lump weighing perhaps eleven pounds or so, which
made the tally nearly good.

THE ADVERSARY

In the good old days of Thursday Island there passed as waif currency a
certain local jest. When some pride of the pearling fleet was moved to
approve himself, his company, and the pervading wickedness in general he
was