"So I heard, mynheer. This is your first post as resident?"
Peter Gross's eyelids quivered a trifle. Muller's admission revealed that he had had correspondence with Ah Sing, for from no other source could the news have leaked out.
"This is my first post," he acknowledged.
"Possibly you have served as controlleur?" Muller suggested.
"I am a sailor," Peter Gross replied. "This is my first state appointment."
"Then my experience may be of value to you, mynheer," Muller declared happily. "You understand accounts, of course?"
"In a measure. But I am more a sailor than a supercargo, mynheer."
"To be sure, to be sure," Muller acquiesced heartily. "A sailor to the sea and to fighting in the bush, and a penman to his books. Leave the accounts to me; I will take care of them for you, mynheer. You will have plenty to do, keeping the tribes in order. It was more than I could do. These Dyaks and Malays are good fighters."
"So I have been told," Peter Gross assented dryly.
"They told you correctly, mynheer. But they will get a stern master now—we have heard of your work at Lombock, mynheer."