gars across the table, lolled back with one foot on the
table, and began to peruse lazily. The sergeant retired respectfully with
the cigar to the outer office. A fly buzzed hopefully at the mosquito
wire. The tap of a typewriter sounded like some other insect. On the hot
air came the faint barks of a drill-sergeant on the parade ground. From
behind the building rose fitfully the murmur of voices from a herd of
natives squatted in the sun awaiting the opening of the Court House.
Leaves rustled largely under the Lieutenant's fingers.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}

At length he pitched the report on to the table, carefully placed the butt
of his cigar in an ash-tray, lighted another, and disposed of the match
with equal care.

"Sergeant."

"Ja, Excellence!"

Zu Pfeiffer indicated a chair by a thrust of the chin. The sergeant sat.
Tapping the report with the highly polished and very long finger-nail of
the left hand, the lieutenant demanded:

"Who is the man who gave you this report?"

"Ali Ben Hassan, an Arab trader, Excellence."

"Trustworthy?"

"Ja, Excellence. He has done much work for us."

"Where?"

"On the Tanganika district, sub-division B II, Excellence. He brought
papers of first-class recommendation from the Kommandant."

"Ben Hassan speaks of one Sakamata, nicht wahr?"

"Ja, Excellence."

"Of what tribe is he?"

"Wongolo."

"A witch-doctor?"

"Ja, Excellence."

"He is here? Let him come in."

The sergeant rose, saluted and departed. Gutturals sounded lazily. The
sergeant reappeared and behind him shuffled a native. Clad only in a dirty
loin-cloth, his brown skin was wrinkled in scaly folds upon his chest and
belly; his face was like an ancient tortoise; the small lack-lustre eyes
were bloodshot and furtive; the limbs were almost fleshless. He squatted
upon the ground and with lowered lids appeared to be absorbed in the
contemplation of a white man's table leg. Zu Pfeiffer regarded the man as
one would a stray dog and nodded to the sergeant, who sat down.

"Does he speak Kiswahili?"

"Nein, Excellence. Only his monkey speech."

"Why do you suppose that he is trustworthy?"

"Because, Excellence, his interests are with ours. There is no
competition. The Schweinhuende Englaender have no interest there--yet. They
are too busy with the Uganda railroad."

"Ja, ja. Again what is the tribal system there, King-God or----" The
lieutenant permitted a slight smile--"or Dis-established Church?"

"Ki