ce, but a score of times had alarming news come from the
French border.

He had indeed made many futile trips into the heart of the Ochori
country.

Forced marches through little known territory, and long and tiring waits
for the invader that never came, had dulled his senses of apprehension.
He had to take a chance. The Administrator's office would warn him from
time to time, and ask him conventionally to make his arrangements to
meet all contingencies and Sanders would as conventionally reply that
the condition of affairs on the Ochori border was engaging his most
earnest attention.

"What is the use of worrying about it now?" asked Bones at dinner.

Hamilton shook his head.

"There was a certain magic in old Sanders' name," he said.

Bones' lips pursed.

"My dear old chap," he said, "there is a bit of magic in mine."

"I have not noticed it," said Hamilton.

"I am getting awfully popular as a matter of fact," said Bones
complacently. "The last time I was up the river, Bosambo came ten miles
down stream to meet me and spend the day."

"Did you lose anything?" asked Hamilton ungraciously.

Bones thought.

"Now you come to mention it," he said slowly, "I did lose quite a lot of
things, but dear old Bosambo wouldn't play a dirty trick on a pal. I
know Bosambo."

"If there is one thing more evident than another," said Hamilton, "it is
that you do not know Bosambo."

Hamilton was wakened at three in the next morning by the telegraph
operator. It was a "clear the line" message, coded from headquarters,
and half awake he went into Sanders' study and put it into plain
English.

"Hope you are watching the Ochori border," it ran, "representations from
French Government to the effect that a crossing is imminent."

He pulled his mosquito boots on over his pyjamas, struggled into a coat
and crossed to Lieutenant Tibbetts' quarters.

Bones occupied a big hut at the end of the Houssa lines, and Hamilton
woke him by the simple expedient of flashing his electric hand lamp in
his face.

"I have had a telegram," he said, and Bones leapt out of bed wide awake
in an instant.

"I knew jolly well I would draw a horse," he said exultantly. "I had a
dream----"

"Be serious, you feather-minded devil."

With that Hamilton handed him the telegram.

Bones read it carefully, and interpreted any meanings into its
construction which it could not possibly bear.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"There is only o