“Take that out to Kataafa at Kulinuu,” O’Neil said. “That don’t go here. You’ve got to have either a lion or another breed of bird on your warrant to do business with us.”
O’Neil considered the matter settled. His arm linked under that of Stump, they reëntered the house. The chief of police did not follow. An American sailorman on liberty was, to his mind, a dangerous object to meddle with. It was a kind of explosive mixture which might go off upon contact.
O’Neil had never met Stump, but he sized him up as accurately as if he had been personally acquainted.
“You’re from the ‘Talofa,’” O’Neil said as Mary called for more cocoanuts and Stump composed his ruffled garments. “Why ain’t you in her now? She’s off on a pleasure cruise with a foreign nobleman.”
Stump wagged his head knowingly. “The ‘Talofa’ ain’t the breed to go on any pleasure cruise,” he answered. “‘Bully’ Scott’s got something on board that he didn’t just like to put ashore in Ukula. I’ve been hiding in the ‘bush.’ I saw her go, so I started to find our consul to get my rights.”
“Who’s been abusing you except Johnny Upolu?” O’Neil asked. “Your countenance does look as if it had met a hard round object. Who did it?”
“‘Bully’ Scott,” Stump replied bitterly. “But I’m quit of him now. He’ll never get me on his ship again if I can help it.”
“Stop swinging all over the compass,” O’Neil said rebukingly, “and steady down on some course. We want to hear what you got to say.”
Stump laughed a mirthless laugh. “That’s what I did,” he exclaimed. “I steered her into Ukula when old man Scott thought he was heading straight for Saluafata. Fixed the compass, you see. Oh, it’s a great trick.”
O’Neil began to understand. “So Scott didn’t intend coming in here last night?” he asked.