The Argus Pheasant Part 49

CHAPTER x.x.x

THE GOVERNOR'S PROMISE

Peter Gross had just concluded an account of his administration in Bulungan to Governor-General Van Schouten at the latter's _paleis_ in Batavia. The governor-general was frowning.

"So! _mynheer_," he exclaimed gruffly. "This is not a very happy report you have brought me."

Peter Gross bent his head.

"No census, not a cent of taxes paid, piracy, murders, my _controlleurs_--G.o.d knows where they are, the whole province in revolt.

This is a nice kettle of fish."

Sachsen glanced sympathetically at Peter Gross. The lad he loved so well sat with bowed head and clenched hands, lines of suffering marked his face, he had grown older, oh, so much older, during those few sorry months since he had so confidently declared his policies for the regeneration of the residency in this very room. The governor was speaking again.

"You said you would find Mynheer de Jonge's murderer for me," Van Schouten rasped. "Have you done that?"

"Yes, your excellency. It was Kapitein Van Slyck who planned the deed, and Cho Seng who committed the act, p.r.i.c.ked him with a upas thorn while he slept, as I told your excellency. Here are my proofs. A statement made by Mynheer Muller to Captain Carver and Lieutenant Banning before he died, and a statement made by Koyala to me." He gave the governor the doc.u.ments. The latter scanned them briefly and laid them aside.

"How did Muller come to his death?" he demanded.

"Like a true servant of the state, fighting in defense of the fort,"

Peter Gross replied. "A splinter of a sh.e.l.l struck him in the body."

"H-m!" the governor grunted. "I thought he was one of these traitors, too."

"He expiated his crimes two weeks ago at Fort Wilhelmina, your excellency."

"And Cho Seng?" the governor demanded. "Is he still alive?"

"He fell on his own dagger." Peter Gross described the incident. "It was not the dagger thrust that killed him," he explained. "That made only a flesh wound. But the dagger point had been dipped in a cobra's venom."

Softly he added: "He always feared that he would die from a snake's poison."

"It is the judgment of G.o.d," Van Schouten p.r.o.nounced solemnly. He looked at Peter Gross sharply.

"Now this Koyala," he asked, "where is she?"

"I do not know. In the hills, among her own people, I think. She will not trouble you again."

The governor stared at his resident. Gradually the stern lines of his face relaxed and a quaintly humorous glint came into his eyes.

"So, Mynheer Gross, the woman deceived you?" he asked sharply.

Peter Gross made no reply. The governor's eyes twinkled. He suddenly brought down his fist on the table with a resounding bang.

"_Donder en bliksem!_" he exclaimed, "I cannot find fault with you for that. The fault is mine. I should have known better. Why, when I was your age, a pretty woman could strip the very b.u.t.tons from my dress coat--dammit, Mynheer Gross, you must have had a heart of ice to withstand her so long."

He flourished a highly colored silk handkerchief and blew his nose l.u.s.tily.

"So you are forgiven on that count, Mynheer Gross. Now for the other. It appears that by your work you have created a much more favorable feeling toward us among many of the natives. The hill Dyaks did not rise against us as they have always done before, and some of the coast Dyak tribes were loyal. That buzzard, Lkath, stayed in his lair. Furthermore, you have solved the mysteries that have puzzled us for years and the criminals have been muzzled. Lastly, you were the honey that attracted all these piratical pests into Bulungan harbor where Kapitein Enckel was able to administer them a blow that will sweep those seas clear of this vermin for years to come, I believe. You have not done so badly after all, Mynheer Gross. Of course, you and your twenty-five men might have come to grief had not Sachsen, here, heard reports that caused me to send the _Prins Lodewyk_ post-haste to Bulungan, but we will overlook your too great confidence on the score of your youth." He chuckled. "Now as to the future."

He paused and looked smilingly into the eyes that looked so gratefully into his.

"What say you to two more years at Bulungan, _mynheer_, to straighten out affairs there, work out your policies, and finish what you have so ably begun?"

"Your excellency is too good," Peter Gross murmured brokenly.

"Good!" Van Schouten snapped. "_Donder en bliksem, mynheer_, it is only that I know a man when I see him. Can you go back next week?"

"Yes, your excellency."

"Then see that you do. And see to it that those devils send me some rice this year when the tax falls due or I will hang them all in the good, old-fashioned way."

THE END

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Big Fight]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Capt. David Fallon M.C.]

Few soldiers in this great war have been through adventures more thrilling, dramatic and perilous than fell to the lot of Captain David Fallon.

He is a young Irishman whose first fighting was against the hillmen in their uprisings in India. He received the Indian Field Medal.

The opening of the war found him physical instructor and bayonet drill master at the Royal Military College, Duntroon, New South Wales. He went through the entire, terrible Gallipoli campaign.

He was in scores of fierce trench battles.

He commanded a tank in an amazing war adventure.

He has served as an aerial observer, spotted enemy positions and fought enemy aeroplanes.

On the road to Thiepval with a shoulder smashed by shrapnel he remained in command of his men behind barricades made of the dead and for twenty-two hours held off the Germans until reinforcements arrived.

On scout duty he frequently penetrated German trenches and gun positions in the night.

A bomb duel with a German patrol when he was detected in their trenches brought him irreparable injury.

He lay for three days in the mud of a sh.e.l.lhole in the enemy country with his right arm blasted, his upper jaw broken, his face and shoulders burned, but survived and managed to escape.

He was awarded the Military Cross for daring and valuable service to his King.