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To the Commissioner, Harley Kennan duly turned over Makawao, who was
committed to a grass-house jail, well guarded, to sit in leg-irons
against the time of trial for his many crimes. And Johnny, the
pilot, ere he returned to the service of the Commissioner, received
a fair portion of the twenty pounds of head money that Kennan
divided among the members of the launch crew who had raced through
the jungle to the rescue the day Jerry had taken Makawao by the back
of the neck and startled him into pulling the trigger of his unaimed
rifle.
"I'll tell you his name," the Commissioner said, as they sat on the
wide veranda of his bungalow. "It's one of Haggin's terriers--
Haggin of Meringe Lagoon. The dog's father is Terrence, the mother
is Biddy. The dog's own name is Jerry, for I was present at the
christening before ever his eyes were open. Better yet, I'll show
you his brother. His brother's name is Michael. He's nigger-chaser
on the Eugenie, the two-topmast schooner that rides abreast of you.
Captain Kellar is the skipper. I'll have him bring Michael ashore.
Beyond all doubt, this Jerry is the sole survivor of the Arangi."
"When I get the time, and a sufficient margin of funds, I shall pay
a visit to Chief Bashti--oh, no British cruiser program. I'll
charter a couple of trading ketches, take my own black police force
and as many white men as I cannot prevent from volunteering. There
won't be any shelling of grass houses. I'll land my shore party
down the coast and cut in and come down upon Somo from the rear,
timing my vessels to arrive on Somo's sea-front at the same time."
"You will answer slaughter with slaughter?" Villa Kennan objected.
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