Carter's arm was lusty and his temper raw. Moreover, the whip, being the property of a Las Palmas tartana driver, was made for effective use. "I may not cure you," said Carter between thumps, "of a taste for cold-blooded assassination, but I'm going to make the wearing of a coat and breeches an annoyance to you for the next three weeks at any rate." After which statement, as the whip broke, he flung the patient into the aloe hedge at the side of the road, got back into the tartana and told the driver to hurry on to the Isleta, or they'd miss the boat. CHAPTER XX MAJOR MEREDITH "The _Liverpool Post_," said Mrs. Craven, "allows itself to hint gently that you've been rather persecuting Mr. Carter, Kate. Now, I don't call the _Post_ a sensational paper, nor is it given to introducing personal matters, as a rule." "I wish it would mind its own business and leave mine alone," said Kate crossly. "'The oppression of nations or individuals,'" read Mrs. Craven, "'may begin by being a matter of merely domestic importance, but when it assumes sufficient dimensions it forces itself into public notice.'" "Do they couple my name with that?" "They leave you to do that yourself," said the old lady dryly. "Well, I don't mind. They may say what they like. I'm entirely within my rights." "The _Post_ admits that. Here, I'll read you what it says, my dear. 'Mr. George Carter, whose name has been so prominently before the public of late in connection with his splendid efforts in winning over the King of Okky to the side of humanity, has himself been the victim of some very high-handed oppression. He has discovered a most valuable vein of tin in a part of the back country where no European explorer had ever trod before, and with toil and care, and in fact with genius, had brought cargo after cargo of the valuable ore down mysterious African creeks and rivers to a spot where the ocean steamers could conveniently ship it. To be precise, he hired from Messrs. Edmondson's small factory on the Smooth River a piece of waste-cleared ground, dumped his ore on that as he towed it tediously down those unknown creeks in a string of dugouts, and there let it accumulate so as not to flood the markets, and cause ruin to the tin industries in England--' Shall I go on?" "Please do, Aunt." "'But presently an interviewer arrived in the shape of a well-known firm of West African merchants and financiers, who bought out Messrs. Edmondson's interest in their Smooth River factory, found that Mr. Carter had no lease, and gave him notice to quit within forty-eight hours. As an alternative to removal they demand an annual rent which amounts to more than fifteen per cent. of the value of the ore stacked there. In other words, they are endeavoring, in a manner that almost smacks of piracy, to force themselves into partnership with him.'" "Sneak," said Miss O'Neill, "to go and tittle-tattle to the papers like that."