him and report."

"Ah! How many other spies has he out in this direction?"

"None."

"Why don't you pass me that whip when I ask for it?" demanded Fred.

"None! None! None, bwana! I am the only man in this direction! He
has sent them north, south, east and west, but I am the only one down
here."

"He has a lot more to tell yet," said Coutlass. "Let me put hot irons
on his feet!"

Fred demurred. "He couldn't march with us if we did that!" he said
with a perfectly straight face.

"Who cares whether or not he marches!" answered Coutlass. "To tell all
he knows is his business! Wait while I heat the iron!"

The Baganda began to scream again, babbling that he knew no more. He
assured us that Schillingschen had set the closest watch along the old
caravan route, and toward his own rear in the direction of Kisumu,
whence officials might come on chance errands.

"All right," said Fred. "Truss him up tight and keep him prisoner
among our men in their hut."

"Our men are likely to get drunk tonight," warned Will.

"Let me watch him!" urged Coutlass. "Leave me with him alone!"

To the Greek's disgust we decided to trust the prisoner with our own
men, and to keep very careful watch on them, threatening them with loss
of all their pay if they dared get drunk and lose him--a threat they
accepted at its full face value, but resented because of Brown's and
the Greek's behavior the night before. They begged to get a little
drunk--to get half as drunk as Brown had been--half as drunk as
Coutlass had been--not drunk at all, but just to drink a little. We
were adamant, and Brown added to their resentment by preaching them a
sermon in their own tongue on the importance of being respectful toward
white folk.

Kazimoto came in toward dark, foot-weary, but primed with news, and
most of what he had to say confirmed the Baganda's story.
Schillingschen, he said, was making for Mount Elgon in very leisurely
stages, letting his loaded donkeys graze their way along, and spending
hours of his time in questioning natives along the way on every subject
under the sun.

Besides the fact of his leisurely progress, which was sufficiently
important in itself, we learned from Kazimoto that Schillingschen's own
ten boys were unable to speak the language of the country beyond a few
of the commonest words--that they all slept in a tent together at
night, usually quite a little distance apart from Schillingschen's--and
that the don