gracefully on the counter, the empty bottle in my hand, and
my eyes fixed anxiously on the square of the door, which was filled
with the blue glimmer of the late twilight. The square darkened, and
two men peered in. Colin growled from below the counter, but with one
hand I held the scruff of his neck.

'Hullo,' I said, 'ish that my black friend? Awfly shorry, old man, but
I've f'nish'd th' whisky. The bo-o-ottle shempty,' and I waved it
upside down with an imbecile giggle.

Laputa said something which I did not catch. Henriques laughed an ugly
laugh.

'We had better make certain of him,' he said.

The two argued for a minute, and then Laputa seemed to prevail. The
door was shut and the key, which I had left in the lock, turned on me.

I gave them five minutes to get to the outhouse and settle to business.
Then I opened the trap, got into the cellar, and crawled to the other
end. A ray of light was coming through the partially raised door. By
a blessed chance some old bricks had been left behind, and of these I
made a footstool, which enabled me to get my back level with the door
and look out. My laager of barrels was intact, but through a gap I had
left I could see the two men sitting on the two cases I had provided
for them. A lantern was set between them, and Henriques was drinking
out of a metal flask.

He took something--I could not see what--out of his pocket, and held it
before his companion.

'Spoils of war,' he said. 'I let Sikitola's men draw first blood. They
needed it to screw up their courage. Now they are as wild as Umbooni's.

Laputa asked a question.

'It was the Dutchmen, who were out on the Koodoo Flats with their
cattle. Man, it's no good being squeamish. Do you think you can talk
over these surly back-veld fools? If we had not done it, the best of
their horses would now be over the Berg to give warning. Besides, I
tell you, Sikitola's men wanted blooding. I did for the old swine,
Coetzee, with my own hands. Once he set his dogs on me, and I don't
forget an injury.'

Laputa must have disapproved, for Henriques' voice grew high.

'Run the show the way you please,' he cried; 'but don't blame me if you
make a hash of it. God, man, do you think you are going to work a
revolution on skim milk? If I had my will, I would go in and stick a
knife in the drunken hog next door.'

'He is safe enough,' Laputa replied. 'I gave him the chance of life,
and he laughed at me. He won't