New Britain herald., 1923-08-25

ly when Pennington--in riding
breeches and slippers--emerged OF
to the veranda an easy first. Var
Daulen' was splashing in his room
grunting and spluttering with the
glorious lack of restraint of a rhi-
noceros.
The man with the Chinese eyes
kicked off his slippers.
His foot was on the point of enter
ing the boot when Rabat dropped a
pile of worn volumes.
| Pennington started and looked up.
The servant was signaling furiously,
Ibis mutilated face queerly contorted.
The Englishnan raised his broWs,
took each heel gingerly between fin
ger and thumb and from the left boot
shook what looked like tin-tack
with an enormous head. He was still
staring at it when Rabat-Palai picked
1t up without turning a hair He re-
treated with it to Van Daulens chair,
grinning over the back of it at his
master.
| Good Lord! 1t was touch and go
| that time, with a vengeance. The in
human swine! Rabat, if I'd trodden
on that how long would 1 have been
in agony" .... ,.
Ten minutes Tuan."
How do you know?'
Il am my masters servant-and l
see everything"
All that was possible of the grin
vanished as Van Daulen appeared at
the head of the passage.
Morning Pennington. Hope
haven't kept you waiting"
mot in the least, old bird. I've
always cherished a sort of hazy no.
ton you planters were early folk!
Those my boots, Rabat?"
He pulled them on, one after the
other, fully aware all the while that
the Dutchman's eyes were upon him.
Suddenly he uttered a sharp ex-
clamation and sat back in the chair,
his lips parted, his breath coming and
going in short gasps.
whats the matter, Pennington?
Nothing. Rabat- Paai, you idiot,
why didn't you knock down this con-
founded nail?' He fell forward,
burying his face in his hands, then
luICllCu " tuC loOI, "leTt Ht lay,
ierying spasmodically.
The native-comprehendin moth
ing-plucked long knife from his
belt. With wild cry he sprang at
the planter, who covered him with
an automatic.
stop where you are, Rabat-Pilai |
I'll deal with you later. Pennington,
can you hear me? In half an hour
from now it won't matter very much |
whether your friend in Jesselton finds
fifty finger-prints on those brushes. |
I've a launch in the bay and tong |
kong standing off ready TO take me to
the Philippines. ] killed Domberg.
We'd loathed one another pretty !
heartily ever since we met and Dom
berg stood in Chat lungs way-and
mine. twas Chai-Hung sent me to
get you here. Drop
that knife, you black skinned devil,
and get over in the corner where
aan see you.' He reached down for
lis boots. He stamped his feet home
and the corners Of Rabat- Pilai's
enormous mouth twitched.
A below like that of an angry bull
shook the rafters and the automatic
slipped to the floor. Pennington's
fingers shot out and closed over the
1utt.
Doesn't it occur to you, Van Dau-
en-, that I'm taking a deuce of a
ong time dying"
But the Dutchman was not listen
ng. A sort of semi paralysis seemed
o have gripped him and he shrank
ather than fell to the boards. II
Pennington, springing to his feet,
wung round on his servant.
"Rabat Pilai, did you do this?" he
demanded sternly. s
The features of hideous, battered
dol confronted him.
1T was between my fingers when '