here."

"What's a Hohono horror?" Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been
persuaded to remain until the end of the month.

"Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel," said the manager. "The
niggers killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, killed
the captain and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I always
said they were careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping here.
Come along, Mr. Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda."

Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the
Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering,
when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same
moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag
him indoors.

"I say, old man, that was a close shave," said the manager, pawing him
over to see if he had been hit. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it
was broad daylight, and I never dreamed."

Bertie was beginning to turn pale.

"They got the other manager that way," McTavish vouchsafed. "And a
dashed fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You
noticed that dark stain there between the steps and the door?"

Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and
compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding
trousers and puttees entered.

"What's the matter now?" the manager asked, after one look at the
newcomer's face. "Is the river up again?"

"River be blowed--it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, not
a dozen feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot from
the hip. Now what I want to know is where'd he get that Snider?--Oh, I
beg pardon. Glad to know you, Mr. Arkwright."

"Mr. Brown is my assistant," explained Mr. Harriwell. "And now let's
have that drink."

"But where'd he get that Snider?" Mr. Brown insisted. "I always objected
to keeping those guns on the premises."

"They're still there," Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat.

Mr. Brown smiled incredulously.

"Come along and see," said the manager.

Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell
pointed triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner.

"Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?" harped Mr. Brown.

But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started,
then tore off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another in
horrified silence. Harriwell droope