The population consisted chiefly of colored folk, who appeared to have nothing much to do except bask in the sweltering heat. Dave was feeling distinctly glum, when a short, rotund man, remotely resembling a barrel in shape, rode past on an extremely lean pony. Recognizing strangers, the man nodded and drew rein. “Can I offer you any assistance?” he asked. Perspiration was oozing in streams from his brow, which he constantly wiped with a very large handkerchief. “Thanks,” Dave said; “we wanted to get to Christmas Island.” “Why, that’s worse than Washington,” said the fat man, “and heaven knows this is bad enough. Nothing ever happens here except the rising of the sun, and then all we can do is to wait till it goes down again. Christmas Island is so near the equator that you could almost jump onto it from there.” “Well, we’re going the first chance we get. Can you say when that might be?” “Maybe a month,” said the stranger. “You can’t tell. What’re you going to do in the meantime?” In the intervals between mopping his brow he was studying the boy and Tempest closely, and apparently the inspection pleased him. “I guess we shall have to find somewhere to stop,” Dave said. “It doesn’t look like a place where we are likely to get work.” “Work!” the man laughed. “No. I’ve been here as a planter for some years now, and I confess I never did see any one work yet. To tell you the truth, it’s always a mystery to me how anything ever gets done. You have to explode a stick of dynamite behind these colored people to get a move on them. When I was running a store in Dogtooth City, Dakota, I wouldn’t have stood for this sort of thing, no siree! I was strictly business every time and all the time there. I made my pile in Dogtooth City, and I won’t say I didn’t come pretty near to making Dogtooth City, too. I was mayor of that little burg three times, and sometimes I wonder which particular kind of a fool I am to be here now, when I could go back to Dogtooth and be mayor a fourth time if I liked. They know there that Joe Flagg won’t stand any nonsense.” Clearly, Mr. Flagg was naturally garrulous, and he was letting off steam, not having had the opportunity to speak to a stranger for some time. But also he was thinking while he talked, and evidently made up his mind at length. “It’s mighty lonely up at my bungalow,” he went on after a scarcely perceptible pause, during which he gave a final and comprehensive glance at the pair, “but I’d sure be tickled to death if you’d come up and stop with me for a while. It seems as though I hadn’t had any one to talk to in years. Now when I was in Dogtooth City――” “That’s very kind of you,” said Tempest, leaping at the chance. “To tell you the truth, we were just beginning to wonder what was going to happen to us. If we can give you any help about the place――” “Tush, tush!” said Mr. Flagg. “You are doing me a favor. I like to let my tongue wag sometimes, and I’ve got nobody to talk to up there but Kanakas.”