Meantime Warrington followed the purser into his office. "I haven't
paid for my stateroom yet," he said.

"I'll make it out at once. Rangoon, I understand?"

"Yes. But I'm in a difficulty. I have nothing in change but two
rupees."

The purser froze visibly. The tale was trite in his ears.

"But I fancy I've rather good security to offer," went on Warrington
coolly. He drew from his wallet a folded slip of paper and spread it
out.

The purser stared at it, enchanted. Warrington stared down at the
purser, equally enchanted.

"By Jove!" the former gasped finally. "And so you're the chap who's
been holding up the oil syndicate all these months? And you're the
chap who made them come to this bally landing three days ago?"

"I'm the chap."

It was altogether a new purser who looked up. "Twenty thousand pounds
about, and only two rupees in your pocket! Well, well; it takes the
East to bowl a man over like this. A certified check on the Bank of
Burma needs no further recommendation. In the words of your
countrymen, go as far as you like. You can pay me in Rangoon. Your
boy takes deck-passage?"