"The white man will always be unable to perform the
manual labour."
"That is true."
"It will mean slavery," she dashed on.
"Yes, like all the tropics. The black, the brown, and the yellow will
have to do the work, managed by the white men. The black labour is too
wasteful, however, and in time Chinese or Indian coolies will be
imported. The planters are already considering the matter. I, for one,
am heartily sick of black labour."
"Then the blacks will die off?"
Sheldon shrugged his shoulders, and retorted,--
"Yes, like the North American Indian, who was a far nobler type than the
Melanesian. The world is only so large, you know, and it is filling up--"
"And the unfit must perish?"
"Precisely so. The unfit must perish."
In the morning Joan was roused by a great row and hullabaloo. Her first
act was to reach for her revolver, but when she heard Noa Noah, who was
on guard, laughing outside, she knew there was no danger, and went out to
see the fun. Captain Young had landed Satan at the moment when the
bridge-building gang had started along the beach. Satan was big and
black, short-haired and muscular, and weighed fully seventy pounds. He
did not love the blacks. Tommy Jones had trained him well, tying him up
daily for several hours and telling off one or two black boys at a time
to tease him.
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