“I must ride to Faleula plantation to-night,” Klinger said brusquely after he had seated himself. “I haven’t had time to unpack and stow away some valuable cargo just received from the ‘Talofa,’ and I want a guard of sailors from the war-ship to protect the store during my absence.”
Carlson glanced at Klinger in open-eyed surprise.
“What will come next?” he exclaimed. “Sailors to guard your store from robbers! Who are the robbers?”
Klinger shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.
“Maybe your friends the English and Americans,” he said calmly. “I have asked you for a guard. I know the business of the firm better than you do. That’s what I’m paid for.”
The consul bit his lips in suppressed rage.
“Is this another one of your tricks,” the consul exclaimed, “to further mortify me?” He had in mind only too vividly another occasion where Klinger had demanded sailors to guard his property and then had hoisted the flag at the municipal flagstaff, telling all the natives that his country had annexed the islands. The flag remained flying only until the next mail arrived, when the consul was severely reprimanded by his government and was forced to haul down the flag and rehoist the Kapuan ensign in its place.
“I want about a dozen sailors,” Klinger insisted. “If you need a little leg stiffening,” he added cruelly, “I don’t mind telling you that Count Rosen approves, even suggested the action.” Klinger had sized up his hearer.
“That puts another aspect on the question,” Carlson exclaimed, much mollified by the mention of the count’s concurrence. “When do you require these sailors?”
“By four o’clock this afternoon,” Klinger replied, “and I forgot to say I told the chief of police in your name to arrest and hold one Stump, a deserter from the ‘Talofa.’”