ord' is all-powerful, and the way he will send
it forth--for great things are maturing--rests with who has his ear. We
are talking, you and I, but what is for four ears is not for more."

"Oh, it will go no further for me," answered Greenoak. And then as the
innkeeper appeared, with a great steaming kettle of black coffee, to
which, when well sweetened, all natives are exceedingly partial, their
conference ended.

The old chief's eyes brightened, as now Dick Selmes began to display
before him all the things he intended he should take home with him.
There was a new blanket for himself--and for his wives, why, Dick seemed
to have cleaned MacFennel's store out of its whole stock of beads.
Mouth accordions too, for the delectation of his younger children,
shining things in gorgeous red cases--why, the delight in Tyala's
household promised to be as widespread as it was unexpected. These were
made over for porterage to some of Tyala's tribesmen who were hanging
respectfully around, and then the old man got up to go.

"He is young and the son of a great man," he said, smiling kindly at
Dick. "Therefore he is generous."

"Well, Dick, you've met your first Kafir chief," said Harley Greenoak,
as they watched old Tyala jogging away on his under-sized pony, a group
of the late rioters in respectful attendance, some mounted, some on
foot.

"Jolly old boy," pronounced Dick, heartily. "Are they all like that?"

For answer there was a laugh. The inquirer had met his first chief; he
was destined soon to meet others--men of a very different stamp, and
under very different circumstances. Then his question would answer
itself.

"Here's a pretty mess," declared the innkeeper, glancing discontentedly
around. "Talk about a battlefield; why, we've got both killed and
wounded here."

"Hallo!" sang out Dick. "Why, my chap has mizzled."

It was even so. The man, to protect whom Dick had so impulsively
interfered, at the risk of his life--at the risk of all their lives--was
no longer to be seen. He must have been only temporarily stunned, and,
recovering consciousness, for reasons of his own had taken himself off
while their attention had been centred on the old chief.

"Ungrateful beggar," went on Dick. "He might have had the decency to
say good-bye to us."

"Probably he didn't know anything of what had happened," said Greenoak.
"You must remember he was already unconscious when you put in your oar."

"Oh--ah, I forgot