lashing, and it was a few moments
before he grasped the fact that it was the lamp reflected from the eyes
of one of the blacks close to the floor.

Nearly a minute elapsed before he could make out the black figure of
their owner, and then he saw it move.

It was plain enough now as it crept in and nearer to the shaded rays of
the lamp. Carey could even see that the black had his club and the
curved knife-like blade of his boomerang stuck behind in the coarse hair
girdle he wore about his waist.

"Why, he's creeping in to kill his master," was the boy's first thought,
and a chill of horror ran through him.

The black crept slowly and silently over the floor of the saloon, and
Carey would have uttered words of warning to his companions, but he
could not speak, every faculty seeming frozen, save that he could see;
and he stared wildly as he saw now two more pairs of eyes and a couple
of the blacks creep in silently, but only to stop at the door, squatting
on their heels, as if watching their leader.

The latter took up Carey's whole attention now, and he waited to see him
take out his club before he uttered a warning shout to the sleeping man,
for he felt that he could not stand and see him murdered in cold blood.

The black crept on till he was quite close to the sleeper, and then he
rose, squatted like his companions, and at last raised his hand.

The warning cry rose to Carey's lips, but it did not leave them, for the
black did not bring out his club, but softly took down the empty glass,
smelt it and then thrust in a long black finger, passed it round and
sucked it, repeating the action several times, till he could get no more
suggestion of the taste of the spirit, when he replaced the glass, to
sit staring at the bottle; but he did not touch it, only squatted there
like a great dog watching over his master, while his two companions
remained silent as a couple of black statues at the door.

That was enough, and Carey softly dropped down and whispered what he had
seen to his companions.

"And they could brain the old scoundrel at any moment with their clubs,"
said the doctor. "It is astonishing."

"Yes, sir," said Bostock, softly; "but aren't it a bit like big savage
dogs as I've seen? They could take a man by the throat and shake the
life out of him in a minute, but they don't. They sits and watches over
him, and it'd be an ugly business for any one as attempted to touch him.
He's got hold of the black f