White Pearls of Freedom

The strange Doctor Weird. Good evening. Come in, won't you? You seem a bit nervous. Perhaps a story would take your mind off whatever's worrying you. I have one I'm sure you like. It takes place on a tiny island in the mystery haunted South Pacific.

And I call it... White pearls of freedom. freedom. And now for my story, white pearls of terror. In the small harbor of the tiny island of Barota, a barren desolate bit of coral lost in the South Pacific, a dilapidated purling boat rides at anchor. In a trading shack of corrugated ile on the shore, two burly bearded

white men watch a half-breed merchant gather together supplies, listening as they wait to that I'm not in the speeding of a native drum in the darkness outside. A Pete's sake, one. What's that infernal racket anyway?

I had fought a sacrifice as chicken to turn away anger of the storm card, Captain Blake. Well, tell him to stop it. It's getting on my nerves. Tag it, easy, Blake. We'll be gone in a few minutes.

That glass is falling false. And there is a storm coming up. We're in the typhoon season now, you know. And I'll be plenty glad to see the last of this rotten speck of coral believe me.

Even though we're leaving with empty pockets, we can't go too soon. One, sorry, you'll find no purse. Not a year better, maybe. Yeah, supplies. Love and dollar, please. All right, pay yourselves. In a moment.

Wong, why do you and your father leave all alone here on Barota? And do you ever find it lonely? Wong and honored father never lonely, Mr. Puffs. You know, Wong, in Tahiti, I made a native who knew you.