The Devils Admiral | Page 5

every day or two, and my
temper was ruffled at my mistake and the prospect of fretting away a
week in the heat of Manila.
A little item in the Times gave me hope. It told of the steamer Kut Sang
coming out of dry dock to sail for Hong-Kong that very afternoon with
general cargo. There was a bare chance that I might get passage in her,
for the paper referred to her as a former passenger boat, and I was sure
I could cajole the company into selling me a berth, or bribe the captain
into signing me as a member of the crew, with no duties to perform, a
common practice.
"This is Mr. Trenholm of the Amalgamated Press," I told the clerk in
the steamship office over the hotel's desk-telephone. "Simply must get
to Hong-Kong as soon as possible, and would like to go in the Kut
Sang this afternoon. May I buy passage in her?"
It was hard to make him understand, for he was a Filipino who insisted
on speaking English, although I had a working knowledge of Spanish.
He first mistook me for a stevedore, then for the manager, and next for
the Hong-Kong-Shanghai Bank. I stormed at him, irritated that I should
have to shout my business for the benefit of the loafers in the hotel
office.
"Correspondent!" I yelled in answer to his questions. "Newspaper

correspondent working on the war. I want to go to Hong-Kong in the
Kut Sang!"
"I am very sorry," he said, without explaining his sorrow.
"May I go in the _Kut Sang_?" I insisted, and he told me I could, and
after he had talked in a low tone with somebody in his office, said that I
couldn't, which was exasperating. I decided to go to the steamship
office and plead with the officials. Hanging up the receiver, I signalled
to the boy to call a carriage.
"You want to go in the Kut Sang, my dear sir?" came a purring voice at
my shoulder. I looked up, and the Rev. Luther Meeker smiled at me.
I growled something at him to the effect that I wondered if I was ever
to lose sight of him. He bowed again and grinned.
"Sorry that you object to me," he murmured, with lifted eyebrows. "But
we'll let all that pass. I might inform you that it is impossible to go in
the steamer Kut Sang. You will pardon me, I am sure, but I heard what
you said at the telephone, and I am willing to annoy you to save you
time and trouble. I repeat, there is absolutely no possibility of your
getting passage in the Kut Sang."
"How do you know?" I asked, still curt with him, but feeling a trifle
ashamed of myself for insulting him.
"Because they have just refused me, my dear sir--allow me--the Rev.
Luther Meeker of the London Evangelical Society," and he gave me a
card which had seen considerable service.
"Trenholm is my name. Sorry I haven't a card. Equally sorry, Mr.
Meeker, that you have been refused passage in the Kut Sang. Excuse
me, but I am in a hurry."
"It won't avail you anything to visit the office," he said, with sad mien
and a sneer on his lips.

"And why not?"
"If they wouldn't let me go, a man of the cloth, with credentials from
the Bishop of Salisbury, your case is hopeless."
"Thanks for the compliment," I shot at him, and left him staring after
me with puzzled surprise on his wrinkled countenance. He stepped to
the door and saw me enter a quilez, and there was a gleam of anger in
his crafty old eyes. The sunlight made him blink, for he was not
wearing goggles, and as I rolled toward the Parian Gate, I looked back
and saw him standing in the door and shading his eyes with his hand to
look after me.
Taking possession of a very surprised steamship-agent, I informed him
that I was going to Hong-Kong in the Kut Sang, and I was ready to
argue with him until the vessel sailed. A refusal was out of the
question--he didn't have time to refuse. I spread all sorts of papers on
the counter and threatened to bring all the officers of the
Hong-Kong-Shanghai Bank up there to argue for me.
The talk about the bank seemed to help me wonderfully, for he had a
whispered conversation with a gray-bearded old gentleman, who
looked me over with a shrewd eye, and nodded his assent to my buying
a ticket.
"It won't be necessary for you to sign ship's articles," said the agent,
turning affable all of a sudden. "We have a passenger-license for the
Kut Sang, although we have withdrawn her from the