breach--discovered it was loaded--and took aim. Coutlass did not even
blink. He was either sure Fred and Will would interfere, or else at
the end of his tether and indifferent to death.

"Don't be an ass, Brown!"

Fred knocked the rifle up. Will took it away and returned it to the
corner.

"All very easy for you men to take high moral ground and all that sort
of rot," Brown grumbled. "It's my cattle he took! It's me be's
ruined! What do I care if the Germans hang me? Let me have a crack at
him--just one!"

"Use your fists all you care to!" grinned Will.

But Brown was no match for the Greek without weapons--very likely no
match for him with them. Coutlass sat still and grinned, while Brown
remained in the back of the tent, glaring.

"Bah!" sneered Coutlass. "Of what use is being sulky? I found cattle
in a village. How should I know whose cattle they were? Why blame me?
The Masai got the cattle, not I! They took them from me, and they'd
have taken them from you just the same! You lost nothing by my lifting
them first! Gassharamminy! By blazes! We're all in the same boat!
Let's be friendly, and treat one another like gentlemen! We're all in
the power of the Germans, unless we can think of a way to escape! I
and my party are under arrest. So will you be by to-morrow! I shall
tell a tale to-morrow that will keep you by the heels for a month at
least while they investigate! Wait and see!"

"Get out of this tent!" growled Fred in the dead-level voice he uses
when he means to brook no refusal.

"Presently!"

Fred made a spring at him, but Coutlass was on his feet with the speed
of a cat, and just outside the tent in time to avoid the swing of
Fred's fist. He withdrew about two yards and stood there grinning
maliciously.

"You'll be glad to make terms with me by this time to-morrow!" he
boasted. "By James, you'll be glad to have me for a friend! Listen,
you fools! Make terms with me now; let us all go together and unearth
that Tippoo Tib ivory, and I can arrange with these Germans to let us
go away! Otherwise, you shall see how long you stop here! By the
Twelve Apostles! You shall rot in a German jail until your joints
creak!"

His Greek friend and the Goanese, supposing him in trouble perhaps,
came and stood in line with him. Very comfortless they looked, and of
the three only Coutlass had courage of a kind.

"They stole the cattle on the British side of the border," Will said
so