“Dumb as a dog-fish, but can hear like a terrier,” said Riggs.  “Picked him up in the streets of Singapore, where he was sort of an assistant magician.  He’s quick with that knife, gentlemen.”

The captain was obviously proud of his queer bodyguard and servant.

“It is a pity that he should be allowed to carry a fearsome weapon, which is a menace to his fellowmen,” said Meeker, shrinking away from the boy.  “I believe he would slay a human over a trifle.”

“Absolutely harmless unless he has some reason to anger,” laughed Riggs, somewhat amused at the nervousness of Meeker.  “Has to pack that cheese-knife—­chinks pick on him if he don’t.  Give him a wide berth, though, when they see that blade.  Quick with it.”

“But we should lead the barbarian to the light,” said Meeker.  “It is a dreadful example for Christians to set such people.  They should not be allowed to carry such weapons—­the practice leads to crime.”

“Soup all around, Rajah,” said Riggs, as if to close the subject.

“Do you carry deadly weapons, Mr. Trenholm?  Do you approve of the bearing of arms?”

“I always have a weapon at hand,” I replied seriously.  “One never can tell when it will be needed in this country, and I believe in always being ready for an emergency.”

“Indeed!  And is it possible that you have a dagger concealed upon your person?”

“No daggers; but this is my right bower”—­tapping the butt of the pistol on my right side—­“and this is my left bower,” and I tapped my left side.

Mr. Trego burst out laughing at this, much to the discomfiture of Meeker, who glared at him, and edged away from me.

“And do you carry such death-dealing machinery, Mr. Trego?” asked Meeker, a sneer in the question.

Trego reached for his malacca cane.  In an instant he had whipped it apart and presented a delicate point toward Meeker, who recoiled at the suddenness of the unexpected thrust.

“With me at all times,” said Trego, when the captain stopped laughing.  “And my cabeen—­eet ees one beeg arsenal, like you call it in your language.  Yes.”

“A pitiable example for the heathen,” said Meeker.  “I trust that you are not armed to the teeth, as the expression goes, captain.”

“I don’t want to spoil your appetite,” said Riggs.

“Of course, Mr. Trego needs those things, as he is—­”

“A passenger,” said Trego, giving the captain a quick glance.

“A passenger,” said Riggs blankly.  “To be sure, a passenger.  Now, Mr. Meeker, I wish you would say a grace, if it pleases you.”

Meeker bowed his head and mumbled something which I could not make out; besides, I was much more interested in a little byplay between Captain Riggs and Trego, which began as soon as Meeker and I had piously cast our eyes downward.

It was a signal conveyed by Trego to the captain, in which he cautioned him to silence about something, by putting his finger to his lips, as if some subject were tabooed.  Riggs nodded as if he understood.  Before Meeker had finished, Trego looked at him and scowled, to convey to the captain that he did not like the missionary.