,"
answered Maurice, with something of a stammer. "By Jove, what if we
should go back practically millionaires! Only think of it, old chap!
Isn't it enough to turn any man's head? And when you got out that bit
of paper, it seemed almost like producing the key of the bullion safe
itself."

But this was said in a hurried, random fashion. How in the name of all
that was wonderful had the missing paper come to light? Again Sellon
dismissed the idea of the Koranna servants having any agency in the
matter, and no other theory was compatible with its almost miraculous
reappearance. Stay! Had Fanning a duplicate, perhaps, which he had
quietly replaced in the receptacle for the lost document? No, by Jove;
that was the identical paper itself. He could swear to it a hundred
times over, there in the red light of the camp-fire, even to the
pear-shaped blot near the right-hand corner. There it was; no mistake
about that. Then he wondered when it had been recovered--when Fanning
had discovered its loss--and whether he had entertained any suspicion of
himself. If so, it was marvellous that all this time he should have let
drop no word, no hint, either of the incident or his suspicions
regarding it. The enhanced respect which his tranquil, self-contained
companion had begun to inspire in Sellon, now turned to something like
awe. "You'll never make an adventurer, Sellon," said Renshaw, with his
quiet smile, "until you chuck overboard such inconvenient luggage as
nerves. And I'm afraid you're too old to learn that trick now."

"You're right there, old chap. I wish I had some of your
long-headedness, I know. But now, I'm all impatience. Supposing you
read out old stick-in-the-mud, what's-his-name's, queer legacy."

"All right. Now listen attentively, and see how it strikes you."

And by the red light of the camp fire Renshaw began to read the dying
adventurer's last statement.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

A VOICE FROM THE DEAD.

"My name is Amos Greenway," it began. "It was some years ago now--no
matter how many--since I first saw what I am going to tell you. That
time I'd been up with a hunting and trading party into the Kalihari.
I'd split off from the rest--no matter why--perhaps we'd fallen out.

"What I didn't know about the country in those days didn't seem much
worth knowing--at least, so I thought. Well, I got down into the
Bechuana country, and after a bit of a rest struck off alone in a
southerly dire