verhauled old reports very
carefully. I dare say my letters on the subject lie inches deep in
dust."

"England doesn't deserve to keep her colonies!" vowed Fred, caught in a
sudden flood of indignation.

Courtney laughed.

"When you've seen as many of the other nations' colonies as I have
you'll qualify that verdict! We do our best. God gave us our work to
do, and the devil came and made us stupid! Take this country, for
instance."

"Yes!" agreed Fred. "Take this country! We came ashore today--left
Monty on board ship on his way to Europe. Nobody knew a thing about
us. A female woman, known to the police in Zanzibar and so notorious
in Europe that she's in no hurry to go home--said, too, on every hand
to be in the pay of the German government--chose to tell lies about us
to the chuckle-headed puppies in charge of Mombasa. Net result--what
do you suppose?"

"I know," said Courtney. "I've been told this evening." His eyes
changed, and his voice took on the almost feminine note of appeal that
came strangely from a big game hunter. "You boys must overlook things.
These boys you're angry with are younger than you, Fred. That
collector you've contrived to pick a quarrel with has fought Arabs and
cannibal troops--odds against him of fifty or a hundred to one, mind
you--all across the Congo and back again. He fought in the Uganda
mutiny. He's a man. He's a merchant, though, with a merchant's
education. He was taken over with the rest of the clerks when the
British government superseded the British East Africa Trading Company.
He has never had the advantage of legal training. Went to a common
school. No advantages of any kind. Poorly paid and overworked.
There's no money in the country yet. Nobody to tax.
Salaries--expenses and so on come from home, voted by Parliament. As
long as that condition lasts they're all going to feel nervous. They
know they'll get the blame for everything that goes wrong, and precious
little credit in any case. Parliament advertised the country in answer
to their complaints of no revenue. Parliament called for settlers.
But they're not ready for settlers. They don't know how to handle
them. They've no troops--nothing but a handful of black police. How
shall they keep in order colonials armed with repeating rifles?
They're not ready. The Uganda Railway isn't finished yet; trains get
through to Victoria Nyanza once a week, but there's endless work to be
done yet on th