Sydney followed Phil from the room.
“It’s a relief to get away,” Phil declared.
They went at once to the ship and told their story to Commander Tazewell.
“That isn’t the only land grabbing the Kapuan firm has been indulging in,” he informed them. “Our lease of land at Tua-Tua in Kulila has been declared illegal by Kataafa and affirmed by the acting chief justice, Count Rosen. The Kapuan firm, I hear, brought in evidence of a prior claim of purchase. Of course it’s a trick, but we can’t prove that before an interested judge.”
The midshipmen drew in their breath in surprise. Evidently the land grabbing was not confined to property owned by uninfluential natives.
“I have searched all morning,” the commander exclaimed annoyedly, “for the lease signed by Moanga, the chief of Tua-Tua, who owns the property. I took it from the safe yesterday and thought I had returned it there, but it is not in the regular envelope. Probably it is only mislaid, and I shall find it among my other papers. I’m afraid I’m getting careless. A natural effect of this torrid climate.”
“Are you going to dispute the claim?” Phil asked.
“That was my intention,” Commander Tazewell replied, “but the lease is a private one between Chief Moanga and myself. It must be confirmed at home before money is appropriated. Of course I acted under instructions from the Navy Department. It’s embarrassing not to find the paper, because I cannot register an appeal very well without it.”
“Do you believe it has been stolen?” Phil asked earnestly. His thoughts had gone to the orderly Schultz.
“That isn’t likely,” the commander said, shaking his head. “No one has access to my cabin while I’m not here except a few trusted men who keep it clean, and my orderlies, and all of them are men with excellent records. No,” he added certainly. “It’ll turn up; it’s probably in a wrong envelope, and I’ll find it after more search.