prestige," said I.

"I admit it."

"I suspect a title's mighty near as useful on British territory as in
N'York or Boston," said Will. "We'd bask in smiles."

"Not wholly," said Monty. "There's another side to that. There's an
English official element that would rather be rude to some poor devil
with a title than draw pay (and it loves its pay, you may believe me!).
You'd have friends in high places, but make enemies, too, if I go
ashore with you."

"What's your own proposal?" Fred demanded.

"I've stated it. I want you fellows to choose. There's no need of me
ashore--that's to say, I've a draft to bearer for the amount you three
have in the common fund--here, take it. If you think you'll need more
than that, then I'll have to go to the bank with you and cash some of
my own draft. I think you'll have enough."

"Plenty," said Will.

"Let's send him home!" proposed Fred.

"How about communications?" We had contrived a code already with the
aid of a pocket Portuguese-English dictionary, of which Fred and Monty
each possessed a similar edition.

"The Mombasa Bank, Will. You keep them posted as to your whereabouts.