“It’s a very simple story,” Stedman said. “I am the representative,
or agent, or operator, for the Yokohama Cable Company. The Yokohama
Cable Company is a company started in San Francisco, for the purpose
of laying a cable to Yokohama. It is a stock company; and though
it started out very well, the stock has fallen very low. Between
ourselves, it is not worth over three or four cents. When the officers
of the company found out that no one would buy their stock, and that no
one believed in them or their scheme, they laid a cable to Octavia, and
extended it on to this island. Then they said they had run out of ready
money, and would wait until they got more before laying their cable
any further. I do not think they ever will lay it any further, but
that is none of my business. My business is to answer cable messages
from San Francisco, so that the people who visit the home office can
see at least a part of the cable is working. That sometimes impresses
them, and they buy stock. There is another chap over in Octavia, who
relays all my messages and all my replies to those messages that come
to me through him from San Francisco. They never send a message unless
they have brought some one to the office whom they want to impress,
and who, they think, has money to invest in the Y. C. C. stock, and so
we never go near the wire, except at three o’clock every afternoon.
And then generally only to say ‘How are you?’ or ‘It’s raining,’ or
something like that. I’ve been saying ‘It’s raining’ now for the last
three months, but to-day I will say that the new consul has arrived.
That will be a pleasant surprise for the chap in Octavia, for he must
be tired hearing about the weather. He generally answers ‘Here too,’
or ‘So you said,’ or something like that. I don’t know what he says to
the home office. He’s brighter than I am, and that’s why they put him
between the two ends. He can see that the messages are transmitted more
fully and more correctly, in a way to please possible subscribers.”
“Sort of copy editor,” suggested Albert.
“Yes, something of that sort, I fancy,” said Stedman.
They walked down to the little shed on the shore, where the Y. C. C.
office was placed, at three that day, and Albert watched Stedman send
off his message with much interest. The “chap at Octavia,” on being
informed that the American consul had arrived at Opeki, inquired
somewhat disrespectfully, “Is it a life sentence?”
“What does he mean by that?” asked Albert.
“I suppose,” said his secretary, doubtfully, “that he thinks it a sort
of a punishment to be sent to Opeki. I hope you don’t grow to think so.”
“Opeki is all very well,” said Gordon, “or it will be when we get
things going our way.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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