270 TROPIC DAYS 



Thry to maake a fool af me, and be the Holy Saints 

 ye '11 have occasion to be sorrowful." And he picked 

 Tsing Hi up with one hand and set him down again 

 with as big a jolt as such a fag-end of humanity could 

 expect to produce. Tsing Hi remained meek. The 

 crowd was unanimously against him. Big Tim might 

 jolt him again and again rather than he would take 

 the risk of venturing among his recent friends, for 

 tales of his thieving, his acceptance of bribes, and 

 imposition of levies, were coming in so fast and thick 

 that the crowd would have relished adding something 

 on its own account. 



Before daylight next morning Tim left with his dis- 

 consolate captive, who wore handcuffs and was manacled 

 to the "D's" in the saddle of the horse which he bestrode 

 manifestly ill at ease. In front of him was a huge 

 swag containing the unidentifiable gold, three watches, 

 three rings, silk stuffs, three pairs of elastic-side boots, 

 several pairs of puce-coloured socks, flash neckties, 

 four hats, three suits of clothes, and other clothing. 

 All this was his own, to be handed over at the expira- 

 tion of the sentence. Tim merely held the inventory. 

 There was some sort of gratification for ill-doing, for 

 the swag contained a fortune. He savagely reflected 

 that six months would soon pass. He would then 

 vanish from "Qee'lan," to enjoy himself for the rest 

 of his days. The sadness which had stagnated during 

 the past week began to dissolve. He sought to make 

 a friend of his escort. 



"I tink we cam' harp way to-ni', Tim." 



"Shut up, you implicaating tadpole ! Wasn't I 

 ordhered to hold no convarse wid me prisoner ? Spake 

 win ye 're spoke ter and be civil, or I'll jolt the teeth 

 troo your hat !" 



Tim jogged on, and the led horse bearing Tsing Hi 



