Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 92: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

74 spirit, he didn’t know. It’s difficult for a white man to see inside a native’s mind, or even to guess his thoughts, and in that re- spect McClure wasn’t any wiser than the rest of us. “But as owner, or guardian or high priest of the teeth—and he didn’t know which he was supposed to be—McClure saw that he could do things he wouldn’t have dared otherwise. So he started right there to make laws and regulations and other im- provements. He even put a stop to cans nibalism and fighting; likewise he built a wooden jetty and had roads made between the different villages. What he said, went. And after a time the natives brought their quarrels for him to decide, instead of settling them with a knife or a spear as before, and his verdict was accepted without question. For he judged fair, did McClure, as fair as any man could. “THAT went on for years. Now ) and again a new trader, hearing what a lot of copra was shipped — from Atimara and the big profits McClure was making, would come and fix up a store-in the hope of getting some of the business. But the natives refused to have anything to do with strangers, and it always ended by the newcomer clearing out after selling his trade-stock to McClure for anything that McClure liked to give. Well, so it went on and it looked as if McClure was as unshiftable as the Rock of Gibraltar. But you never know what’s going to happen in this world, do you? “One day a new trader arrived at Ati- mara. His name was Joe Price and he’d come from Port Moresby in Papua—any- way, he said he had. Well, he built himself a store, just like all the others had done, and started business by offering the natives better terms for their copra than McClure had ever given. This didn’t worry Mc- Clure any, for most of the others had done the same, thinking they could smash him that way, and always it was themselves that got smashed. All McClure had to do was to sit tight and say nothing, and presently he’d buy the other chap’s stock and wave him good-by from the jetty. “Well, it looked as if the same thing was going to happen sure enough this time. None of the natives would go near the new man’s store and though he gave presents to the village headmen, and they took them, Rg Adventure it didn’t bring him.a cent’s worth of trade. And McClure was'already beginning to figure out what he’d give Price for his stock, when a very remarkable thing happened. “The teeth disappeared. “They disappeared one night. When McClure went in the morning to take them off the rail of the veranda, they weren’t there. McClure, he could hardly believe his eyes, and it was some little while before he was convinced that they really had gone. Now you’ll understand what a mighty bad shock this gave McClure; all his power and influence over the natives rested on those teeth of his. “He didn’t know what to make of it at first, but it wasn’t so very long before he reckoned he had the answer to the riddle. He felt as certain as could be that none of the natives would have dared lay a finger on the teeth; they were much too scared of them for that. So who could have stolen them but Price, the fellow who was still trying to knock him out? ‘Price, of course, had heard all about the teeth and he knew that it was because of them McClure had a monopoly of the trade and ruled over Atimara like a little tin king. He likewise knew, Price did, that the teeth were put on the veranda rail outside Mc- Clure’s store every night to receive the offer- ings of the natives. So, you see, it would be a pretty easy job for him to creep up to the veranda at night and pocket the teeth. “It was a wonder none of the other traders who’d tried to do business in Ati- mara hadn’t thought of the same thing, seeing how easy and simple it was. Now that it was too late, McClure wanted to kick himself. for being such a fool as to leave his teeth where Price, or any one else who might have a grudge against him, could just walk up and take them away. “Well, they say troubles never come singly, and it happened that way to Mc- Clure. Before he’d got over the shock of losing his teeth, or had had time to think how he might get them back, he saw some of the village headmen coming up the road to the store. It didn’t strike McClure as anything unusual till he saw that each of them carried something in his hand—a gourd, for instance, a dead chicken, a lava- fava, as the native dress is called, and so on. They walked up to the front of the store and sat down facing it, as they always did for a COMIGDIOOKSEEO