have convinced him of its futility. Unfortunately the crash involved the plantation as well as the pearls. Up to a point he had thought, at any rate, to keep the plantation going. Then, gradually, had come the time when he looked to the pearling to save the plantation. Now he had to go a-begging for someone to provide funds so that the work on Tao Tao could be carried on until the place began to pay dividends. And Chester Trent was sufficiently versed in the ways of the world to know on what sort of terms that would be done.
There was a planter on Tamba named Svenk, a Swede, whom Chester had met two or three times, a hard-working, long-headed fellow, "canny" like most of his countrymen, but good-natured. He had his wife and three children living with him on the plantation, which was a thriving concern. Svenk had sound business judgment, and Chester knew that if the Swede would run over to Tao Tao with him in the Kestrel he would see that the possibilities there were sufficient to justify him in financing the venture until the corner was turned.
Svenk listened to the Englishman attentively, then shook his head.
"One year ago, maybe, I'd have been glad to go in with you," he said. "But not now. Sorry, Mr. Trent. It is fifteen years since I first came into the South Seas after a fortune, and now I go back. I have sold out, sir, and if anyone says copra to
