ese men tell me you have
said that the Germans are coming to conquer the country and destroy all
people, including the English, who have not accepted Islam!"

The man hesitated again, glancing over his shoulder to discover his
retreat cut off by our porters, and eying Fred with malignity that
reminded one of a cornered beast of prey. He could control his face,
but not his eyes.

"Oh, no, sir!" he answered after swallowing a time or two. "How could
they tell such lies against me! I am a person born in Uganda, now a
British protectorate and enjoying all blessings of British rule. I am
educated at the mission college at Entebbe. How should I tell such a
tale against my benefactors?"

"That is what you are here to explain!" Fred answered. "No! You can't
escape, you hellion! Squat down and answer!"

"All this stuff is pretty familiar," Will interrupted. "In the States
there are always people going the rounds among our darkies preaching
some form of treason. Over there we can afford to treat it as a
joke--now and then an ugly one, and on the darkies!"

"This is an ugly joke on a darkie, too!" grinned Fred.

The Baganda made a sudden dive and a determined struggle to get through
the door, but our porters were too quick and strong for him.

"Confession is your one chance!" said Fred.

"Put hot irons to his feet!" advised Coutlass. (The native beer had
left him villainously evil-tempered.) "Gassharamminy! Leave me alone
with that fat Baganda for half an hour, and I will make him tell me
what is on the far side of the moon, as well as what his mother said
and did before she bore him!"

"Shall I hand you over to this Greek gentleman?" suggested Fred.

"Oh, my God, no!" the Baganda answered, trembling. "Hand me over to
the bwana collector! He will put me in jail. I am not afraid of
British jail! It will not be for long! The English do not punish as
the Germans do! You dare not assault me! You dare not torture me!
You must hand me over to the bwana collector to be tried in court of
law. Nothing else is permissible! I shall receive short sentence,
that is all, with reprieve after two-thirds time on account of good
conduct!"

"Make him prisoner in the sleeping sickness village you told us about!"
advised Coutlass, lolling at ease on his elbow to watch the man's
increasing fear.

"Oh, no, no! Oh, gentlemen! That is not how white Englishmen behave!
You must either let me go, or--"

He made anothe