g he
was to be kept waiting. "Damn the fellow!" he muttered and picked up one
of the books on the table, _Les Ba-Rongas_, par A. Junod, opened it at
random and began to read.

The shadows of one bungalow reached the verandah on the opposite side of
the square. And still he read on, the dead pipe in his hand. Just as the
twilight was snuffed out like a candle, a sharp step heralded the arrival
of the lieutenant. Birnier rose, the book in his hand.

"Good evening, sir!"

"Good evening," responded zu Pfeiffer, who was in an undress uniform of
white. "What is it that you require?"

"Well," said Birnier, "first of all I must apologise for using your chair
and reading your book. Most interesting, by the way."

"That is nothing," said zu Pfeiffer as Bakunjala came in with a lamp and a
chair. "Please to be seated."

"Thank you."

Birnier took the small chair and the lieutenant the Bombay.

"I--er I--am sorry that I disturbed you this morning," began Birnier
diffidently. "But I did not know----"

"That is nothing. It was the fault of the sentry. He should not have
allowed you to pass."

"Regarding my application for the licence, Herr Lieutenant?"

"I regret," said zu Pfeiffer coldly, using a cigar cutter, "that I am
unable to grant you the licence you ask."

"You cannot grant me a trading or shooting licence?"

"I regret, no."

Birnier stared.

"May I inquire why I am refused?"

"You may. We do not wish undesirables in the country."

"Undesirables!" Birnier's lips tightened. "I am afraid that I do not
understand you." The lieutenant was engaged in carefully stoking his
cigar. "Will you kindly afford me a reason for--for such an insulting
remark?"

Zu Pfeiffer blew smoke luxuriously. Birnier stared for a moment, stuck his
pipe in his mouth and bit the stem; removed it and snapped:

"You can have no adequate reason for such action.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} If you intend to
continue this ridiculous farce I shall be compelled to make a complaint
through Washington."

"Washington?" Zu Pfeiffer removed one leg from the chair-rest and the
cigar from his mouth. "You are an American?"

"I am."

"So? We understood that you were an English agent. You have papers?"

"Certainly. If you wish----"

"We do not demand. No. My agent was wrong. He shall be punished." Then in
an amiable voice: "I, too, have been a long time in America. Please to
have a cigar, Mr. Birnier."

Birnier hesitated, puzzled.

"Thank you,"