beach toward a small, native canoe in which Muda Saffir
had come to the meeting place. They were out of
earshot before either spoke again, so that what further
passed between them Sing could not even guess, but he
had heard enough to confirm the suspicions he had
entertained for a long while.

He did not fish for gulls that day. Bududreen and Muda
Saffir stood talking upon the beach, and the Chinaman
did not dare venture forth for fear they might suspect
that he had overheard them. If old Sing Lee knew his
Malays, he was also wise enough to give them credit for
knowing their Chinamen, so he waited quietly in hiding
until Muda Saffir had left, and Bududreen returned to camp.


Professor Maxon and von Horn were standing over one of
the six vats that were arranged in two rows down the
center of the laboratory. The professor had been more
communicative and agreeable today than for some time
past, and their conversation had assumed more of the
familiarity that had marked it during the first month
of their acquaintance at Singapore.

"And what of these first who are so imperfect?" asked
von Horn. "You cannot take them into civilization, nor
would it be right to leave them here upon this island.
What will you do with them?"

Professor Maxon pondered the question for a moment.