And so it was that Hampl became Mayor. It has to be acknowledged that amid the prevailing anarchy his prudent administration also was blessed with comparative peace, thanks to the wise counsels of Bishop Linda and the Worshipful City Fathers.

XXVII. A Coral Island in the Pacific

CHAPTER XXVII

A CORAL ISLAND IN THE PACIFIC

“ WELL, I’ll go to blazes,” said Captain Trouble, “if that lanky fellow over there isn’t their leader!”

“That’s Jimmy,” remarked G. H. Bondy. “He used to work here at one time. I thought he was quite tame by now.”

“The devil must have owed me something,” the Captain growled, “or I shouldn’t have had to land here on this wretched . . . Hereheretua!!! Eh?”

“Listen,” said G. H. Bondy, laying his gun on the table on the veranda. “Is it the same as this in other places?”

“I should say so,” boomed Captain Trouble. “Not far off, on Rawaiwai, Captain Barker and his whole crew were eaten. And on Mangai they had a banquet on three millionaires like yourself.”

“Sutherland Bros.?” asked Bondy.

“I think so. And on Starbuck Island they roasted a High Commissioner. Is was that fat MacDeon; you know him, don’t you?”

“No.”

“You don’t know him?” shouted the Captain. “How long have you been here, man?”

“This is my ninth year,” said Mr. Bondy.

“Then you might well have known him,” the Captain said. “So you’ve been here nine years? Business, eh? Or a little home of refuge, is it? On account of your nerves, I suppose?”

“No,” said Mr. Bondy. “You see, I foresaw that they were all going to be at loggerheads over there, so I got out of the way. I thought that here I would find more peace.”

“Aha, peace! You don’t know our big black fellows! There’s a bit of a war going on here all the time, my lad.”

“Oh well,” G. H. Bondy demurred, “there really was peace here. They’re quite decent chaps, these Papuans or whatever you call them. It’s only just recently that they’ve begun to be . . . rather disagreeable. I don’t quite understand them. What are they really after?”

“Nothing special,” said the Captain. “They only want to eat us.”

“Are they as hungry as all that?” asked Bondy in amazement.

“I don’t know. I think they do it more out of religion. It’s one of their religious rites, don’t you see? Something like communion, I take it. It takes them that way every now and then.”

“Indeed,” said Mr. Bondy thoughtfully.

“Everyone has his hobby,” growled the Captain. “The local hobby here is to eat up the stranger and dry his head in smoke.”

“What, smoke it as well?” Mr. Bondy exclaimed with horror.