The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-10-17
Copyright. 1910. by Street 6 Smith Copyright 1911. by tho Macmillan Company

But not after they become recruits? Surely the boys you have here would not be guilty"
 They'd eat you if the chance afford ed"
 "Are you just saying so, on theory, or do you really know?" she asked.
 'I know"
 Why? What makes you think SO? Your own men here?"
 "Yes, my own men here, the very house boys, the cook that at the present moment is making such delicious rolls, thanks to you. Not more than three months ago eleven of them sneaked a whaleboat and ran for Malaita. Nine of them belonged to Malaita. Two were bushmen from San Cristoval. They were, fools, the two from San Cristoval, I mean; so would any two Malaita men be who trusted them selves in q boat with nine from Sai Cristoval"
 "Yes?" she asked eagerly. "Then what happenedT 'sThe nine. Malaita men ate the two from San Cristoval, all except the heads, which are too valuable for mere eating. They slowed them away in the stern locker until they landed And those two heads are now in some bush village back of Langa Langa." She clapped her hands and her eyes sparkled. -They are really and truly cannibalsl And just think, this is the twentieth century! And I thought romance and adventure were fossilizedv
 He looked at her with mild amuse- ment.
 What is the matter nowT' she oueried
 ooh, nothing, only I don't fancy be ing eaten by a lot of filthy niggers is the least bit romantic"
 "No, of course not" she admitted. "But to be among them, controlling them. directing them, POO of them. and to escape being eaten by them-that, at least, if it isn't romantic, is certain ly the quintessence of adventure. And adventure and romance are allied, you know"
 "By the same token, to go into nfgger's stomach should be the quin- tessence of adventure" he retorted. 'I don't think you have any romance in you," she exclaimed. You're just dull and somber and sordid. like the business men at home. don't know why you're here at all. You should be Dt home placidly vegetating as bank er's clerk or-or"-
 "A sbopkeeper's assistant thank you" ''Yes, that-anything. What under the sun are you doing here on the edge of things?" Earning my bread and butter, try Ing to get on in the world.'' By the bitter road the youngest son must tread ere he win to hearth and saddle of his own,, she quoted. "Why, If that isn't romantic, then nothing is romantic. Think of all the younger sons out over the world, on a myraid of adventures, winning to those same hearths and saddles. And here you are in the thick of it. doing it, and here am in the thick of it, doing it."
 'T-I beg pardon" he drawled-
 Well I'm a younger daughter, fhen." she amended; "and I have no hearth nor saddle-I haven't anybody or anything-and I'm just as far on the edge of things as you are." 'In your case, then, I'll admit there Is bit of romance" he confessed. He could not help but think of the preceding nights and of her sleeping in the hammock on the veranda under mosquito curtains, her bodyguard of Tahitian sailors stretched out at the tar corneraof the veranda within call. He had been too helpless to resist, but now h. resolved she should have his couch inside while he would take the tammock. j You see. l had read and dreamed about romance all my life," she was saying, "but I never in my widest fancies thought that I should live it. 1t was all so unexpected. Two years ago thought there was nothing left to me but She faltered and made a moue of distaste. "Well, the only. thing that remained, it seemed to ne, was marriage"
 
 md cartridge belt?" he suggested.
 'I didn't think of the cannibal isle, but the cartridge belt was blissful." You wouldn't dare use the revolver If you were compelled to. Or" noting the glint in her eyes, eff you did use, 1t to-well, to hit anything" She started up suddenly to enter the house. He knew she was going for her revolver. si Never mfnd," he said, there's mine. What can you do with it?''
 Shoot the block off your flag hal-t sarls." He smiled his unbelief
 don't know the gun," she said 6ubiously.
 'Tt's light trigger and you don't lave to hold down. Draw fine"
 ''Yes, yes,' she spoke impatiently. "I know automatics-they jam when they get hot-only don't know yours" She looked at it a moment. 'It's cock ed Is there cartridge in the cham. ber?" She fired. and the block remained intact. "It's long shot," he said. with the intention of easing her chagrin. But she bit her lip and fired again.