“All you’ve got to figure on,” Scott said quietly, “is that I’m here. Say something in English now to throw that young cub naval officer off the scent and go hurry off those lighters. If you see the count tell him to come off here or go and get those sailors first.” Klinger’s mind was relieved of much of the strain of uncertainty, yet he felt far from sure that Scott’s plan would succeed as easily as the optimistic Scott imagined. He had not entirely acquitted Scott of the charge of perfidy. The two men then spoke in English in regard to the return cargo of the “Talofa,” and parted apparently to meet again in the morning. As Klinger rowed ashore he met Count Rosen going out to the schooner. The two boats stopped alongside each other. Klinger hurriedly outlined Scott’s plan as far as he had learned it. “I’ll drop aboard just to satisfy myself that he isn’t betraying us,” the count said to himself as the two boats went their several ways. As the count left the “Talofa” and rowed toward the Herzovinian war-ship, he was nearly convinced that Scott was playing fair, but upon his return after picking up the white man swimming toward the American war-ship, distrust of the pirate again appeared strongly in his mind. Just before dawn Klinger saw the last one of the many boxes brought ashore from the schooner carried and piled upon the porch of the store. The twenty new slaves brought by Scott, for whom he had paid a handsome sum of money to the schooner’s captain, had been set to work unloading, and they were now on their way under native guard to the Vaileli plantation. The boxes landed were of all sizes, and most of them were left unopened upon the porch of the store. Klinger stationed two of his boat boys as guard, and then turned in upon the small bed in his office. “Mighty queer proceedings,” he exclaimed as he closed his tired eyes. “But I guess the count can handle the situation.” When Count Rosen awakened the next morning, his first act was to open the blinds and glance out upon the harbor. Everything was peaceful and serene; the “Talofa” lay snugly at anchor. The firm’s lighters were alongside the dock in front of the store. It was low tide and the fringing reef was peopled with natives gathering the many edibles, turtle, crayfish and a variety of shell-fish, that form a great proportion of the Kapuan diet. The count entered the adjoining room; the memory of the man picked up from the water the night before had suddenly recurred to him. The room was empty. He called loudly for his native boy. “Where is the stranger?” he asked. “Gone out for a bath,” the boy answered innocently, showing his white teeth in a childlike smile. “Bring him back at once,” the count commanded. “Tell him I wish to see him.” The boy hastened on his errand, jingling several pieces of silver he had acquired from the very stranger whom he was seeking. The count dressed hastily and himself took up the search for the missing man.