a sum barely sufficient to maintain him, so that the fortune of three thousand dollars remained where it had been born—in his imagination. He took from his pocketbook the portrait of a young girl and looked at it until a tear rolled down his cheek. It was the portrait of his Clara.
"Thou wast tired of waiting," sighed he. Heavy footsteps approaching from without he replaced the portrait in his pocket-book just as the Colonel entered, accompanied by the Chief of the district—a Dayak of agreeable countenance, known as Tomonggong Nikodemus Djaja Nagara.
"Take a seat, Tomonggong," said the Colonel, pointing to a chair, "while I get some cigars."
The Tomonggong, however, approached the doctor, bowed his head, presented his hand and uttered the greeting,
"Tabeh toean, saja harap toean ada baik"—Good-day, sir, I hope you are well.
The doctor raised himself from his comfortable position, stepped forward to take the outstretched hand and pressed it cordially. Availing himself of the brief absence of the Colonel, he whispered to the Chief, "They must be saved, they must not be allowed to fall into the hands of the Dutch."
Tomonggong cast a penetrating look on him. Used to treason and falsehood the first feeling of an East Indian, however honest he himself may be, is one of distrust. He suspects that a snare is being laid for him.
Hence the surprise of the Tomonggong when he heard the doctor's words.
"That would be difficult, sir. The Colonel is sure to take
