A Chinaman opened the door to his knock.  Smith asked if the master was at home.

“Massa inside allo lightee,” answered the man.  “Me go fetchee, chop-chop.”

He soon returned, followed by a stalwart bearded Australian of about fifty years, smoking a big pipe.

“Well, mate,” he said, eyeing Smith curiously by the light of the door lamp; “what can I do for you?”

“I must apologize for troubling you on Sunday night,” began Smith.

“No trouble, I assure you.  Come in.”  He led Smith into a little room near the door.  “We’ve a few friends in the parlour,” he added, “and I guess you can tell me here what you want.”

“Well, to put it shortly, I should be very much obliged to you if you’d direct me to Mr. Mackinnon.  He’s got some petrol waiting for me, at least I hope he has, and I’m in great need of it.”

“Well, that’s real unlucky now.  He went to Pine Creek down the line only yesterday, and won’t be back till to-morrow.  Are you Lieutenant Smith, may I ask?”

“Yes, that’s my name.”

“Mackinnon got a cable from Java on Friday about the petrol.  He told me about it, and mighty astonished he was.  Motor-cars are pretty scarce about here, and he hasn’t got a great quantity of petrol.  I suppose it’s for a motor-boat you want it?  When did you leave Java?—­before the cable, I guess.”

“I haven’t come from Java at all.  The cable was sent through there from London.  The fact is, I’ve come in an aeroplane.”

“What!  Over the sea?”

“Yes, over sea and land.  I left Penang early this morning, and must go on at once.”

“Well, if I ain’t just about flummuxed!  D’you mean to say you’ve come pretty near two thousand five hundred miles to-day?”

“Yes; I’ll tell you in a word all about it.”

His host, whose name was Martin, listened in mute amazement as Smith briefly related the occasion of his long journey.

“Why, man,” exclaimed Mr. Martin, when he had concluded his story; “wonders’ll never cease.  You must be dead beat.  I never heard the like of it.  Come into the other room.  The boys’ll be mad to hear this.”

“Really, I’d rather not.  I haven’t any time to lose, and Mr. Mackinnon being away—­”

“Oh, that don’t matter.  He didn’t expect you so soon, but we’ll get what you want, though it is Sunday.  But a bite and a sup will do you all the good in the world, and won’t take you long, and the boys will just go crazy if they don’t see you.  Why, it’s round the world you’re going.  My sakes!  Come along.”

He almost dragged Smith into a large, low room, where several men and women, boys and girls, were seated round the wall.  They were singing hymns to the accompaniment of a harmonium.  A table loaded with eatables was pushed into a corner.  The entrance of Mr. Martin, followed by a dirty, unkempt, and oddly dressed stranger, caused an abrupt cessation of the singing.  The girl at the harmonium sprang up with a startled look.