over Guy's face.

"Merciful heavens!" he cried. "Can it be? All dead!"

He gasped for breath, beating the air with stiffened fingers, and then
dropped like a log.

* * * * *

The warm sunlight still played on the raft, and the yellow tide of the
river lapped the roughened logs with a soft and musical murmur.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

CAPTAIN BECKER LOSES A WAGER.

"No, no, gentlemen. I respectfully beg leave to differ with you. Africa
never gives up her white slaves."

Captain Lucius Becker emphasized his words by bringing his fist down
heavily on the frail table before him, and replacing his meerschaum
between his lips, he glared defiantly at his two companions.

It was a hot and sultry afternoon in March--such a March as only
tropical Africa knows--and the place was the German military station of
New Potsdam, on the left bank of the river Juba, a few miles from its
mouth, in eastern Africa.

On the broad bosom of the river the sun was beating fiercely, and the
mangrove jungles and lofty palm trees drooped motionless in the dead
calm. Upon the flat roof of the little station, however, the refining
touches of civilization had done much to mitigate the severity and
discomfort of the heat. An awning of snowy canvas, shaded by the
projecting clusters of a group of palms, made a cool and grateful
shelter, and under this the three officers had been dining.

Captain Becker continued to blow out great clouds of white smoke as
though he had completely squelched all further argument on the subject
under discussion.

The silence was broken at last by Dr. Moebius Goldbeck.

"My dear captain," he said, in slow, measured tones, as he adjusted his
eyeglass, "I cannot agree with you. Africa has passed through many
changes of late years. These men will surely be heard from again, and
may even be freed eventually."

"Yes, yes, you are right, doctor; your views are eminently sound," said
Lieutenant Carl von Leyden.

Captain Becker removed his meerschaum from his lips, and shook himself
in his chair until his sword clanked on the floor.

"Now listen," he cried. "These men of whom we speak, the governor of
Zaila, the English colonel, the captain of the Aden steamer, and the
other two unfortunate Englishmen, not one of these men will ever come
out of Africa alive, I will wager a hundred thalers."

"Done!" cried Lieutenant von Leyden.

"Done!" echoed Dr. Goldbeck.

Hardly had the echoe