And if the youngster stirs or
attempts to hold me, why, there's something here to make him alter his
mind. Something to stop him altogether, to shut his mouth, and keep his
evidence from reaching the authorities."

The thought seemed to please him, for he sat back on his heels and
gripped his revolver more tenaciously. But a moment later reflection
brought some doubt to his mind, and his breathing became deeper and more
hurried.

"They'd know," he said, with an oath. "They're bound to know, in any
case, for I must go. Once I have the money, I must take to the forest,
and trust to picking up a boat along the coast. Even then I shall have
to wait for months, for there will be a hue and cry. I'll have to make
for King Koffee's country, and take service with him. He'll remember
who has been so good about the supply of guns and ammunition. Yes, I'll
make for Kumasi, and wait there till the storm has blown over. Ah! he's
snoring again. I must be quick. The morning will be coming in a couple
of hours."

The thought that he had a haven near at hand seemed to spur the
miscreant on to his purpose, for he rose to his feet and emerged into
the open, where the brilliant moon showed him even more clearly. It was
obvious that he had purposely darkened his skin, for behind his ears, on
the broad of his back, and on the palms of his hands were dusky-white
patches, which he had omitted to cover. In fact, the robber who lurked
so close to the house, and whose fingers grasped the revolver, was none
other than James Langdon, whose name was uppermost in Dick Stapleton's
mind. This thief, who came stealthily in the night, was the half-caste
manager of the store which Dick's father had kept for many a year in
Cape Coast Castle. Short and squat he appeared in the moon's rays, but
the light was insufficient to show what manner of man he actually was.
Had it been lighter one would have seen a heavy, ugly face, with thick
lips and splayed-out nose, telling unmistakably of his negro origin.
Crisp, airly locks, jet black in colour, covered his head, while some
straggling hairs grew from his upper lip. The brows were low; the eyes
too close together, while the thickness of the lips alone seemed to
denote a cruel nature. James Langdon was, in fact, far from
prepossessing in appearance, while he bore a character which was none of
the best. He had a dusky complexion, sharp, white teeth, and that
whiteness of the eye which belongs to