“Where are the Kataafa men?” the lieutenant asked brusquely. “I see you’ve been feeding and sheltering them,” he added insinuatingly, “and doubtless are now concealing their whereabouts.” “I do not know,” Klinger replied stubbornly. “I cannot help it if they take my fruit. I have no sailors to protect my property.” “I’ve a good mind to take you back with us,” the lieutenant said angrily. “You and that count are advising these natives to fight us. Who else is in the house?” Tupper asked, advancing upon the porch. Klinger held his ground. “There are no others here,” he replied. “You are welcome to search the house if you desire, but I warn you this is Herzovinian property, and you must answer for all insults.” “I’d like to see you strung to a yard-arm,” Lieutenant Tupper exclaimed, angrier than ever at the man’s cool effrontery. Phil surprised a sinister gleam in Klinger’s eyes that gave him a sudden pang of uneasiness. Did Klinger know where Kataafa and his warriors were hiding? “We are going to requisition your fruit,” the lieutenant said authoritatively. “You can put in your claim for damages, and if I have anything to say in the matter you wouldn’t get a shilling.” The sailors had spread out through the beautiful groves of banana and breadfruit trees and were quickly stripping the trees of their fruit and carrying the great bunches down to the beach, where they were being loaded into the cutters of the war-ship. “There won’t be enough to feed a locust on when they get through,” O’Neil chuckled. “I’d like to get a hold on that fellow Klinger alone for about ten minutes. I have an idea he knows where Kataafa and his men are this very minute.” “We’re not looking for a fight,” Sydney said, shaking his head emphatically. “We’re only making a reconnaissance and bringing back food for the town. That’s why no natives were brought along.” “I don’t like the looks of it,” O’Neil declared. “We sent word to Kataafa that unless he attacked we would not disturb him for the present, and he is said to have said the same thing to us. In that case what is he hiding for?” “Maybe he fears either we or he cannot keep their word,” Phil suggested. O’Neil shook his head. “Look out for a trick,” the sailor insisted, “and besides, I hear Chief Tuatele commands the natives in the Vaileli district, and he is the meanest Kapuan ever born. In fact, they say he has a mixture of Solomon Islander in him.” Lieutenant Morrison and Ensign Patterson from the “Sitka” had listened to the sailor’s remarks, and nodded their heads in agreement with his views. “It’s queer we have met no women,” Lieutenant Morrison said in his quiet, thoughtful voice, “but of course we go back by the beach road the way we came, and with the guns of the ‘Sitka’ to back us, I can’t believe that even Chief Tuatele would dare attack.” “Let him attack,” Patterson exclaimed. “We’ve got a hundred rifles and a machine gun. I guess he won’t find us such an awfully easy mark.”