Sadler looked worried.
“May I,” I said, “venture to suggest that your terms are perhaps a trifle technical, or—shall I say?—a trifle remote. Let me explain to Mrs. Ulswater that by a 'showdown' is intended merely the decision of a given issue; that a 'jackpot,' as such, may be defined as an accumulation of undecided issues.”
“Why,” said Sadler, “you see, doctor, it's this way. Your ideas about technical language and mine don't jibe with each other, and I'll bet my last week's shirt to yours of the week before, Mrs. Ulswater's idea ain't agreeable with either of us on which point my own opinion was similar to his, and I regretfully let pass that interesting wager.
“Well!” said Mrs. Ulswater again; “What are the facts?”
Sadler then described the politics of Lua, in a voice slow, husky, and bereaved.
“Some years ago,” he said, “a friend of mine, who was a white man named Craney, was king of Lua, for he bought out the different candidates, or pooled the interests, or something, and mounted the throne himself. Anyhow, he was killed in a ruction. It occurred to me to come around this way, which happened about a month back, to ask Craney for the job of Prime Minister, but I found he was dead, and the place seemed to me then on the edge of another dynastic war. There was a young chap named Kolosama, who was the son of the king who succeeded Craney, and there was an old chap named Ogelomano, who claimed the throne by right of superior wisdom, with some other complicated rights, and relations, by which it appeared he ought to have been king before. Awful names, ain't they? Well, this yere royalty appeared to be partly hereditary, partly elective, and mostly revolutionary, which is all very well, but hard feeling inside of families is vicious. That's my opinion. Kolo had the largest backing, but Ogel had the superior wisdom, as appeared from this: namely, he immejitly laid himself out to get the support of the newly arrived combination of military genius, statecraft, and diplomacy—that's me. Arguing with a scrupulous conscience, then, I comes to this conclusion; I says: 'The first requirement for a happy kingdom is a forehanded king; the next is a superior Prime Minister; which it's clear from the behaviour of this party that he knows what's what, and it's clear from the behaviour of the other party that he ain't got no real penetration at all; nor he ain't onto the points of royalty, or he'd know that a kingdom without a Prime Minister is as unhappy as a cat with no dog to chase her, which anybody but a fool knows; and consequently this yere Kolosama is unfit to rule this balmy isle, and this yere Ogel is a promising monarch. That's my opinion.' I stated that argument to Ogel, and he agreed that was a tart argument all right, and I was a Prime Minister sent by the gods. Then Ogel and Irish and I, we went over till we come to the palace, which is built of bamboo and all on the ground floor, but else-wise is a commojous mansion, and chuck full of Craney's furnishings; and we discharged artillery from the front door, to let folks know we was on the throne. Then Kolosama collected his party, and went off to the other side of the island, and declared war. Then we called him, on the chance it was a bluff. So it was, and so was ours. Neither of us showed down. That's how it is. Me and Irish with Ogel's warriors, and Kolosama with his warriors, have been prancing forth over these picturesque mountains like we intended to be real vicious, and dodging back till the island's near distracted. We've got the wisdom and foresight, and we got all Craney's firearms by the coopdee-tat, but Kolo appears to have a majority of the foolish population with him just now, and there you are. There's your jackpot, which me and Kolo are playing for. I haven't got the hand to open it, or to do anything but jockey for position, for Kolo's got most of the warriors. I don't know what's the matter with him, unless his warriors don't like gunpowder. Maybe his hand's weaker than it looks, but I'd bet something if I held it, this jackpot would be opened.”
“What sort of a man is Ogelomano?” I asked, when Sadler paused.
“Fat and sulky,” he said; “but I've seen worse. I've seen homelier looking men too, somewhere, but I've forgotten where that was. Maybe it was in a nightmare. For that matter Kolo's all right enough too. I guess the island would be happy with either, were t'other dear charmer away.”
Sadler stopped and rubbed his chin gloomily, and said: “Nice outfit of yours. Waxwork pirates, maybe?”
I explained the purposes and mission of the Violetta.