“Davidson then was commanding the steamer _Sissie_—the little one which we used to chaff him about. He ran her alone, with only the Malay serang for a deck officer. The nearest approach to another white man on board of her was the engineer, a Portuguese half-caste, as thin as a lath and quite a youngster at that. For all practical purposes Davidson was managing that command of his single-handed; and of course this was known in the port. I am telling you of it because the fact had its influence on the developments you shall hear of presently. “His steamer, being so small, could go up tiny creeks and into shallow bays and through reefs and over sand-banks, collecting produce, where no other vessel but a native craft would think of venturing. It is a paying game, often. Davidson was known to visit in her places that no one else could find and that hardly anybody had ever heard of. “The old dollars being called in, Davidson’s Chinaman thought that the _Sissie_ would be just the thing to collect them from small traders in the less frequented parts of the Archipelago. It’s a good business. Such cases of dollars are dumped aft in the ship’s lazarette, and you get good freight for very little trouble and space. “Davidson, too, thought it was a good idea; and together they made up a list of his calls on his next trip. Then Davidson (he had naturally the chart of his voyages in his head) remarked that on his way back he might look in at a certain settlement up a mere creek, where a poor sort of white man lived in a native village. Davidson pointed out to his Chinaman that the fellow was certain to have some rattans to ship. “‘Probably enough to fill her forward,’ said Davidson. ‘And that’ll be better than bringing her back with empty holds. A day more or less doesn’t matter.’ “This was sound talk, and the Chinaman owner could not but agree. But if it hadn’t been sound it would have been just the same. Davidson did what he liked. He was a man that could do no wrong. However, this suggestion of his was not merely a business matter. There was in it a touch of Davidsonian kindness. For you must know that the man could not have continued to live quietly up that creek if it had not been for Davidson’s willingness to call there from time to time. And Davidson’s Chinaman knew this perfectly well, too. So he only smiled his dignified, bland smile, and said: ‘All right, Captain. You do what you like.’ “I will explain presently how this connection between Davidson and that fellow came about. Now I want to tell you about the part of this affair which happened here—the preliminaries of it. “You know as well as I do that these tiffin-rooms where we are sitting now have been in existence for many years. Well, next day about twelve o’clock, Davidson dropped in here to get something to eat.