‘Indeed, and why?’ asked Bude.
‘Why, sir—I am addressing Professor Jones Harvey?’
Bude bowed. ‘Harvey, captain, but not professor—simple amateur seaman and explorer.’
‘Sir, your hand,’ said the captain. ‘Your friend is not a professor?’
‘Not I,’ said Logan, smiling.
The captain solemnly shook hands. ‘Gentlemen, you have sand,’ he said, a supreme tribute of respect. ‘Well, about these two natives. I never liked taking them aboard. They are, in consequence of the triumph of our arms, American subjects, natives of the conquered Philippines. I am no lawyer, and they may be citizens, they may have votes. They are entitled, anyway, to the protection of the Flag, and I would have entered them as steerage passengers. But that Professor Jenkins (and the other professors agreed) would have it that they came under the head of scientific exhibits. And they did
allow that the critters were highly dangerous. I guess they were right.’
‘Why, what could they do?’
‘Well, gentlemen, I heard stories on shore that I took no stock in. I am not a superstitious man, but they allowed that these darkeys are not of a common tribe, but what the papers call “highly developed mediums.” And I guess they are at the bottom of the stramash.’
‘Captain Funkal, may I be frank with you?’ asked Bude.