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"My word! I couldn't help liking the chap," would shout Lingard when telling the story; and looking around at the eyes that glittered at him through the smoke of cheroots, this Brixham trawler-boy, afterward a youth in colliers, deep-water man, gold-digger, owner and commander of "the finest brig afloat," knew that by his listeners -- seamen, traders, adventurers like himself -- this was accepted not as the expression of a feeling, but as the highest commendation he could give his Malay friend.
"By heavens! I shall go to Wajo! " he cried, and a semicircle of heads nodded grave approbation while a slightly ironical voice said deliberately -- "You are a made man, Tom, if you get on the right side of that Rajah of yours."