shell Baptist, is Papa; no Papists need apply. And he took and
locked the door. Buncombe told him he was bigoted, and I thought
he would have had a fit. 'Bigoted!' he says. 'Me bigoted? Have I
lived to hear it from a jackanapes like you?' And he made for
Buncombe, and I had to hold them apart; and there was Adams in the
middle, gone luny again, and carrying on about copra like a born
fool. It was good as the play, and I was about knocked out of time
with laughing, when all of a sudden Adams sat up, clapped his hands
to his chest, and went into the horrors. He died hard, did John
Adams," says Case, with a kind of a sudden sternness.

"And what became of the priest?" I asked.

"The priest?" says Case. "O! he was hammering on the door outside,
and crying on the natives to come and beat it in, and singing out
it was a soul he wished to save, and that. He was in a rare
taking, was the priest. But what would you have? Johnny had
slipped his cable; no more Johnny in the market; and the
administration racket clean played out. Next thing, word came to
Randall the priest was praying upon Johnny's grave. Papa was
pretty full, and got a club, and lit out straight for the place,
and there was Galoshes on his knees, and a lot of natives looking
on. You wouldn't think Papa cared - that much about anything,
unless it was liquor; but he and the priest stuck to it two hours,
slanging each other in native, and every time Galoshes tried to
kneel down Papa went for him with the club. There never were such
larks in Falesa. The end of it was that Captain Randall knocked
over with some kind of a fit or stroke, and the priest got in his
goods after all. But he was the angriest priest you ever heard of,
and complained to the chiefs about the outrage, as he called it.