BEN STUMP LISTENS
Carl Klinger paced the porch of the count’s home in visible annoyance.
Count Rosen surveyed the angry overseer complacently from his easy
chair under the shade of the thatched roof porch.
“Don’t be an idiot, Klinger,” he said. “You can’t afford to indulge
in personal vengeance. The American officer has gotten ahead of you
and put you to shame before the natives, and I think you deserved it.
Your work was childish. Putting that cartoon on your wall was bad
enough, but to attempt to thrash a native relative of Tuamana under
the eyes of his own friends and supporters was infantile. If you don’t
stop swearing vengeance upon that young midshipman I’ll be forced to
lock you up in your own house and put a guard over you. To attempt
such barefaced outlawry as an attack upon the person of an American
naval officer by hired thugs would only lead to intervention by the
war-ships.”
Klinger sulked in silence, and the count continued:
“The last mail steamer carried Kataafa’s appeal for annexation. It was
to be cabled from San Francisco to our government. An answer should
reach here now in a few days. The news of the war of course is now
known everywhere, but I am sure our own war-ship with instructions
for us will arrive first. The United States may beat us, but upon the
appearance of a Yankee ship I’m going to hoist the flag. Even sooner if
I hear from our man on the Yankee ship anything alarming.”
“Why do you take such chances?” Klinger asked surlily. “We’re in power.
The English and Americans are afraid to act without orders from home.
Hoist the flag and be done with it!”
“Klinger,” the count replied haughtily, “as long as you keep within
your limitations as a manager of a commercial firm, grabbing land
from defenseless natives and using it to increase the income of your
company, then I am willing to listen to your advice, but when you make
bold to advise me upon matters of state, you make yourself ridiculous.
This savage kingdom is isolated from the great world,” he continued in
a more kindly tone of explanation as he saw the look of apology in the
rough overseer’s face. “The nearest cable stations are San Francisco
and Auckland; news of what has happened reached our capital before
or as soon as it was received in Washington or London. A Herzovinian
war-ship has been waiting in Auckland to bring us instructions. I do
not know the present diplomatic situation. If I hoist the flag before
the arrival of the war-ship, I may find the instructions are not to
hoist the flag. We may be on the verge of a war with our commercial
rival England over some other diplomatic difficulty, and our action
here might greatly embarrass our foreign office.”
“But you said,” Klinger persisted, “you would hoist the flag upon the
appearance of a Yankee war-ship.”
“The arrival of another Yankee war-ship must mean but one thing,” the
count replied patiently, “and that would be that the United States
government had decided to back the decision of the chief justice and
put Panu-Mafili on the throne by force. In that case I would have to
resign. Kataafa would either have to submit or else fight the white
sailors. If the new arrival sees our flag flying and our sailors in
possession, then the Americans and British must stop and think a long
time before they use force to drive us out of the government.”
“And then after that if your instructions coming on our war-ship should
be not to hoist the flag?” Klinger asked. “What then?”
“Then I shall send a war-ship to Auckland post-haste to tell what I
have done, and to wait for an answer, and then hasten back here.” The
count smiled proudly as his plan unfolded itself. “Our government
could then wait to see how the news was received. If they saw it was
embarrassing they could order the flag hauled down. If not, then it
would remain flying permanently.”
“I have that lease of land at Tua-Tua made by Chief Moanga to the
American captain,” Klinger said jubilantly, showing the document, “and
Scott has gone across to get Moanga’s signature to one I drew up for
the ‘firm,’ and to destroy the other duplicate.”
The count nodded. “Tua-Tua we should keep, but the United States
government may succeed in getting the island of Kulila after all. She
has had her eyes on it for many years, and doubtless thinks her claim
is first. We would not fight her for it, so unless we can win out
through diplomacy it will be hers.”
“Little good it will do her,” Klinger said savagely, “when the Kapuan
firm owns the only water-front that is not full of quicksand.”
The count chuckled. “We statesmen can always receive a lesson from a
clever merchant. No doubt the United States will be forced to pay a
fancy price for your land when she makes up her mind to build a naval
station there. By the way,” he added, “I thought Scott was intent upon
saving his skin, and had sailed for the Fijis.”
“That was his intention,” Klinger replied, “but he ran into Fangaloa
Bay for water, and heard you owned the government; so he sent me word
he was staying around to get a cargo of copra, and incidentally to coax
back his mate Stump.”
“And you sent him to Tua-Tua on a mission to Chief Moanga?” the count
asked pointedly. “What does he receive for that service?”
“Stump,” Klinger replied. “He also got a cargo of copra to be landed in
Suva.”
The count shook his head doubtfully. “That’s a serious business, to
seize an American and ‘shanghai’ him,” he said.
“It will be done without force,” Klinger explained. “Stump is in our
employ. He’s trying to pay his way back to America. I’ll have him in
Fangaloa on some plantation work, and let Scott do his own shanghaiing.
Scott should be back at Fangaloa to-day unless he had trouble
persuading Moanga.”
The portly figure of Mr. Carlson emerged from the palm and banana grove
in front of the bungalow. A few seconds later he arrived on the porch,
puffing and blowing from his exertions. As the count and the overseer
turned to greet him, none too graciously, the figure of a man unrolled
itself from the tapa draperies of a window opening on to the porch, and
silently withdrew through the kitchen in the rear.
Stump, for it was he, held in his hand a hammer and nails, and
unconcernedly told the native cook that he would come back to make
imaginary repairs.
After the mate had put several hundreds of yards between himself
and the governor’s house, he stopped and called down all manner of
vengeance upon Klinger’s head. Then he took a wide détour arriving
breathless at the landing, hired a boat and was soon in Commander
Tazewell’s cabin.
While Stump retailed the conversation he had heard between the count
and Klinger, Commander Tazewell’s indignation mounted higher and
higher. When he heard of the plan to rob his government of Tua-Tua
as a coaling station and the fact that his contract had fallen into
Klinger’s hands, the commander’s brows gathered in a perplexed frown.
There must be a spy on his own ship! In no other way could the paper
have been stolen from his cabin.
Phil, answering the commander’s summons, was soon informed of Stump’s
exciting news.
The commander was disappointed in seeing no surprise in Phil’s face
when he heard that the Tua-Tua lease was in Klinger’s hands.
“Then you have suspected that there is a spy on board this ship,”
the commander exclaimed incredulously, “and have not confided your
suspicions to me! I’m surprised and disappointed in you, Mr. Perry,” he
added accusingly.
Phil flushed guiltily. “It was really not a suspicion, sir,” he
stammeringly answered, “and has only developed into a suspicion after
listening to the news Stump here brings.”
The lad then detailed what had occurred the night the “Talofa” and
Captain Scott had entered the harbor, when he had thought he had
surprised Schultz, the captain’s orderly, endeavoring to listen to the
conversation between Commander Tazewell and the British commander.
“His explanation, sir,” he added, “was so readily given, that I thought
I had been mistaken. Then when I learned his name was Schultz, the
suspicion returned; only that didn’t seem sufficient proof to accuse
him of spying. When you told me earlier of the loss of the lease I
again thought of Schultz, but you seemed to think the paper was only
mislaid. I’m sorry, sir,” Phil stammered in embarrassment. “I see now I
should have made a clean breast of it before.”
“Don’t worry over that, Perry,” Commander Tazewell said kindly.
“Hindsight, you know, is always better than foresight. If I had been
you I doubt if I should have acted differently, so I have no right to
blame you. I know you are loyal, and will always act in a way that
seems to you right and straightforward.”
Stump had been sent forward to seek out O’Neil. The captain had desired
that the mate remain on board the “Sitka” for the present, a request
which Stump was only too happy to accept.
“The most serious part of this news,” Commander Tazewell exclaimed, “is
that it shows the whole plot unearthed, and yet I don’t see any way now
to thwart the conspirators.”
“Where’s the ‘Sacramento’?” Phil asked excitedly.
“At last accounts, in Honolulu, or at least expected there. She sailed
from Panama some weeks ago,” Commander Tazewell replied thoughtfully.
“There’s no cable to Honolulu, so if she is to come here, word must be
dispatched by steamer from San Francisco. If Stump has heard correctly,
the count knew that a Herzovinian war-ship was waiting in Auckland to
bring the government’s orders to annex or not to annex. That, according
to the count, would depend upon the diplomatic conditions. Of course,”
the commander added, “there can be no question of a European war over
Kapua. The thing would be impossible, and not worth the life of a
single soldier or sailor.”
Phil shook his head, much puzzled over the situation.
“It’s all very confusing to me, sir,” the lad said. “The personal
feelings between the Herzovinians on one side and the English and
ourselves on the other are so strongly antagonistic that I’m sure if
we were put ashore together and left there for a week we would be
fighting, although for the life of me I can’t see what it would be
about. I haven’t any personal interest in Kapua and really admire the
Herzovinians greatly, yet I am as antagonistic as any one to her
getting the islands.”
Commander Tazewell laughed in high amusement. “Yes,” he replied, “it
is remarkable how men isolated as we are focus our minds upon local
affairs that should not really influence us. Here am I, out of cable
communication with Washington. I see this nation through private
individuals plot to take over a group of islands in which the country I
represent has one-third share. If I precipitate a fight with a foreign
power in order to retain that one-third right given us by treaty, I may
find upon receipt of mail that the government has decided to relinquish
its claim. Meanwhile through my action blood may have been spilled.”
“Why does a government, like ours especially, so often change its mind
in these international affairs?” Phil asked.
“It doesn’t change its mind often,” the commander smilingly replied,
“for it seldom makes up its mind. There is one thing, Mr. Perry, that
few people seem to thoroughly understand, and our government has always
disregarded. It is the relation between our international acts and our
armed forces: the army and navy.
“If there exists a large army and a navy to back up our demands, then
the other countries will cheerfully grant them, but if the army and
navy are small and weak, then the demands are not granted.”
Phil nodded his head. He was having explained a problem over which he
had long puzzled.
“So you believe then that whether Herzovinia gets Kapua or loses it
depends upon the relative power of her army and navy?” he asked.
“Exactly; if she wants to seize Kapua I don’t see any way to stop it,”
Commander Tazewell answered. “Whether she will hold it or not must
depend upon how highly England and the United States appraise the value
of the Herzovinian army and navy to back up her act. If we think she
is in earnest and will go to war rather than give up Kapua, then our
statesmen must decide what will be the advantages or disadvantages of
war to us.”
“But,” Phil exclaimed, “she couldn’t fight both the United States and
England, all at once.”
“There, you see, is the true value of her great army and navy,”
Commander Tazewell answered solemnly. “The two great nations might be
able to defeat her, but it would not stop there. Probably many other
nations of Europe would become involved.”
“Then if Herzovinia had only a small army and navy,” Phil said
questioningly, “the United States or England would pay no attention to
her demands, and she would be forced to give in.”
“That’s the whole thing in a nutshell,” the commander exclaimed. “Let
us hope, Perry,” he added, “our great nation will be sensible enough to
keep always a strong army and navy, so that we can be assured that we
can do right without the need of asking some other nation’s permission.”
As Commander Tazewell paused he unrolled a chart and spread it before
him on the cabin table.
“It’s nearly twenty miles from here to Fangaloa Bay,” he said after a
few minutes’ silent scrutiny of the chart of the Kapuan Islands.
Phil was at once keenly alert. What was in Commander Tazewell’s mind?
“I believe I am fully justified in seizing Scott and his schooner, and
with Stump a witness against him we could try him for something very
near piracy.” Commander Tazewell smiled amusedly as he regarded Phil’s
eager face, and was prepared for the lad’s earnest question.
“Will you go there with the ship?” Phil asked.
“No,” the commander replied. “I’m thinking of sending you on a ‘cutting
out’ expedition to bring back Scott and the schooner, either or both.
Will you accept the job?”
Phil fairly beamed with joyful anticipation, but he composed himself
and answered:
“I’m ready to go anywhere you send me, sir.”
“Schultz had best be watched,” the commander added. “It’s wiser not to
show him that we suspect him. He may help us to find out something to
our advantage concerning our friends, the count and Klinger.
“I’ll tell the executive officer to let you have the steam launch, and
he will get it ready for you beginning after dark. You can select
the men you wish to go with you. Tuamana can pilot the launch through
the reef at Fangaloa. Is there any suggestion you wish to make?” the
commander asked as Phil arose to go from the cabin.
“I’d like to have Mr. Monroe go along to keep me company,” Phil replied
quickly, “and I thought it might be wise to go ashore now and try to
find out from Avao or Mary Hamilton whether the ‘Talofa’ has reached
Fangaloa on her return from her trip to Tua-Tua.”
Commander Tazewell readily agreed with the lad’s suggestions. “I’ll see
you before you shove off to-night,” he said. “And don’t get hurt. Scott
and his schooner aren’t worth it.”
Phil found Sydney and told him all the good news, and then sent for
O’Neil and Stump.
The mate gleefully volunteered to go along.
“Can I navigate a schooner!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t I bring her into
Ukula harbor on the darkest tropical night I ever saw with only the
white line of surf as buoys? I’ll sail her back for you, and sit on
old ‘Bully’ Scott’s face while I’m doing it.”
“He’d be handy to show us where the gear is located, sir,” O’Neil
said approvingly, “and besides, he knows the crew and can speak their
‘lingo.’”
The two midshipmen after having been interviewed by the executive
officer, who had come to think highly of the activity of his two young
subordinates, were set on shore and at once sought their friend, Alice
Lee, to find out what news she had gathered from her native friends.
They found her in the hammock in the “lanai,” deep in a book. She
greeted them without reserve.
“It’s about time you came,” she exclaimed. “I’ve been bursting with
news for you.”
“What is it?” they both asked eagerly.
“I tried to go up on Mission Hill this afternoon and was refused,”
Alice declared excitedly. “The count has established a ‘lookout’
station there. I saw half a dozen Herzovinian sailors with a long
spy-glass mounted on a tripod; and I saw signal flags too,” she added.
The midshipmen exchanged glances.
“Looking for the ‘Sacramento,’” Sydney exclaimed. Then they told Alice
of the conversation Stump had overheard and of their mission for that
evening.
“That isn’t all my news,” Alice said proudly. “One of the ‘Talofa’s’
crew, a Fiji Islander, arrived in Ukula, and Klinger rode away with him
toward Saluafata. Mary Hamilton came and told me that an hour ago.”
The two lads shook hands with each other in boyish excitement and joy,
while Alice looked on thinking they had suddenly gone crazy.
“Don’t you see,” Phil explained to Alice’s inquiry. “Scott and his
schooner are back, and Klinger is going to get the lease and explain
that Stump will come later. We’ll catch the schooner anyway, and maybe
Scott and the lease will also be on board.”