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Updated: May 9, 2025
The name of the town was Ching, and we found that the fair or mart which was kept there would not be held for three or four months. So we sent our ship back to the Cape, as we meant to stay in this part of the world for some time, and go from place to place to see what sort of a land it was, and then come back to the fair at Ching.
But the link between Mart and Bart Stanton had not been broken. It had become a one-way channel. Martin, in order to escape the prison of his own body, had become a receptor for Bart's thoughts. He felt as Bart felt the thrill of running after a baseball, the pride of doing something clever with his hands. In effect, Martin ceased to think. The thoughts in his mind were Bart's.
The Sultan of Pontiana would make it his capital if desired; his apprehensions of the power of the Sambas princes lead him to give the preference to Pontiana. The town of Calaca, belonging to the Rajah of Borneo Proper, lies north of Tanjong Datu; it is the principal port of trade south of the capital, and the mart of the Sedang country.
Here were however no important fortifications, the place being merely an agreeable palatial residence and a thriving mart. Dire was the anger not unjustly excited in Spain when the news of this violation of neutrality reached that government.
Poverty, avarice, and evil passions had minted Mart Brenner like a devil's coin. His shaggy head lowered in his powerful shoulders. His long arms, apelike, hung almost to his knees. Behind him the fog pressed in, and his rough, bristly hair was beaded with diamonds of moisture. "Well?" he snapped. A sardonic smile twisted his face. "Caught you, didn't I?" He strode forward.
And now, by force of Mart's humble suing, her half-forgotten scruples were revived. Her uneasiness began again. A decision was finally and definitely thrust upon her. Instantly she was beset by all her doubts and desires, and the sky darkened with clouds of trouble. To make Mart happy was still her wish, but the way was not so easy of choice, nor so simple to follow as it had once seemed.
Casey turned suspiciously at the laugh and the sound of the door opening. He swung round and steadied himself with his back against the bunk when he saw Mart and Joe lift their hands and hold them there, palms outward, a bit higher than their heads. Something in the sight enraged Casey unreasoningly.
"Why, there's room for all four of us in the sled!" said Bunny, as he noticed how large the box was. "And our pony can pull four. He's done it lots of times." "Well, then I guess he can do it on the slippery snow," said Mart. "We'll come if you want us to, Bunny." "Of course I want you!" said the little boy. "And Lucile, too!" added Sue, for she was very fond of the singing girl actress.
Pa's door was closed; Martie imagined the room darker and more grim than ever. Lydia had given her her old room; the room in which she and Sally had grown to womanhood. It was as clean and bare as a hotel room. Lydia and Sally had discussed the advisability of a bowl of flowers, but had decided flowers might remind poor Mart of funerals.
And the green parrot, in his cage hanging in the kitchen, cried in his shrill voice: "No tramps allowed! Out you go! Sic him, Towser! Bow wow!" Bunny, Sue, Mart, and Lucile hurried into the kitchen after Miss Winkler. They saw her quickly take a broom from a corner.
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