tial one, my friends. There is what you might call a minority
report in regard to the situation. Captain Trigger asked me to speak
for him and others who look at it as I do. Mr. Landover, who is, I
understand, one of the leading bankers in the United States of America,
contends that we are well enough off as we are, on board the Doraine,
where we've got cabins and beds and shelter from the elements. He may be
right. All I have to say to him is this,--I don't believe I mentioned
it at this conference, Mr. Landover, simply because I'm one of those
unhappy individuals who always think of the brilliant things I might
have said when it's too late to say them,--all I have to say is this: if
Mr. Landover and his supporters expect to sit snugly on this ship while
the rest of us build houses and plant crops, and then conclude to come
out and bone the rest of us for a square meal and a nice warm place to
sleep, they are going to be badly fooled. We're all equal here. A couple
of million dollars, more or less, doesn't cut any ice on this little
island. What counts here is muscle and commonsense and a willingness to
use both.

"A little while ago I asked Mr. Landover how much money he has with him.
He informed me that while it wasn't any of my business, he has about
five hundred dollars in American money and a couple of hundred pesos
besides, but that his letter of credit is still good for fifteen
thousand. Mr. Nicklestick has about five hundred dollars in money,
and so has Mr. Block and one or two others. They've all got letters
of credit, express checks, and so forth, and I suppose there is a
wheelbarrow full of jewellery on board this ship. Now, if money is to
talk down here, I wish to state that the men and women from the steerage
have got more real dough than all the first and second cabins put
together. They haven't any letters of credit or bank accounts in New
York, but there are a dozen men in the steerage who have as much as two
or three thousand pesos sewed up inside their clothes. So far as I can
make out, the only people who can afford to hire anybody to build a
hut for them, and pay for it in real money, are the plutocrats from the
steerage.

"Mr. Landover's letter of credit is good for fifteen thousand if he ever
gets back to New York, but it isn't worth fifteen cents here. His life
is insured for one million dollars, I am told. I don't know who the
beneficiaries are, but, whoever they are, they are going to put in a