he explorer's hand, not
shaking it but pressing it to his forehead as he spoke.

"Glad to see you, sar! What for you want John now?"

"Africa, John. This is my nephew, Mr. St. John, and my friend, Mr.
Critchfield, who will go along. We leave for the Congo Tuesday."

"Pleased to meet you, sar!" The grinning black pressed the hands of Burt
and Howard to his forehead in turn. "What boat we leave, sar?"

"The _Benguela_. African Steamship Company docks."

"Hit's Liverpool boat, sar! What time hit leave London docks?"

"Three o'clock, John. Here's a hundred pounds." Mr. Wallace peeled off
five twenty-pound bank notes and handed them to the negro; "that ought
to buy your outfit, eh?"

"By hall means, sar! Thank you. Hi'll 'ave most helegant brass pots,
sar!"

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Burt as the cook withdrew. "You hand out bank
notes as if you're made o' money! S'pose the coon'll ever show up with
all that wad on him?"

"Show up?" repeated Mr. Wallace. "Why, I'd turn over my bill book to him
and never count it when he gave it back! He's a blamed sight more honest
than most white men you'll meet down there. And nerve! He carried me
five miles on his back once, in northern China, stopping occasionally
to fight off a bunch of bandits. That's the kind of man John is."

"Funny accent he's got," said Critch. "I thought all coons talked like
they do down south."

"You'll get over that pretty quick!" laughed the explorer heartily.
"John can use West Coast, cockney, Spanish and half a dozen other
accents accordin' to whom he's been mixing up with latest. When we
strike the Congo he'll probably fall into French. Well, let's trot along
to Piccadilly and get measured. It's gettin' on toward noon."

CHAPTER V

THE CONGO

The boys were now due to receive another surprise. When their taxi drew
up they jumped out, fully expecting to see a wonderful store like those
of New York. Instead they found themselves before a dingy little shop
whose aspect gave them distinct disappointment.

"No," laughed Mr. Wallace as he dismissed the taxi, "it's all right!
Doesn't look up to much but it sends out good stuff."

This was the gunshop and they found it very different inside. Mr.
Wallace had no time to waste in having special guns made, so the clerks
measured the boys' shoulders and arms and that was all there was to it,
for the guns would be slightly altered and sent on board.

Now the party went to the Boma Trading Comp