All gazed upon it in silence. Commander Tazewell nodded, and Phil rewrapped the head carefully and placed it within the box. As they left the hotel O’Neil brought up the native who claimed to have taken the head. “He says he didn’t kill him,” O’Neil said, “but I think probably he did, and is afraid to say so. He thinks we are displeased because it was a white man.” “Who did it? Ask him,” Phil ordered. “He says a white man shot him. He saw it, and when the white man didn’t take the head, he did,” O’Neil replied, after a short conversation. The native so closely questioned by these white officers was becoming very much concerned. His eyes rolled from side to side seeking apparently somebody to take his part. Finally he leaped away and grabbing a man by the arm dragged him excitedly toward his inquisitors. It was Stump. “He kill! He kill!” the native cried out pointing his finger at the surprised white man. CHAPTER XXIII CONCLUSION Stump was not proud of his exploit. The lads saw that he trembled violently, and his face showed that his nerves were unstrung. “It was my life or his,” he said sorrowfully. “Klinger had put me in charge of the store when he was arrested. During the fight on the Siumu road I was inside the store. Scott and several natives came from the bush and made me go with them. I was afraid to refuse. They led me away. Some time later our party was attacked by the Panu men. They did not attack Captain Scott, who held me by the arm and told me he’d blow my head off if I ran away. When the Kataafa men were running away Scott saw that we must run too. He beat and kicked me to make me go faster. I had been wounded in the left arm.” Here Stump showed his bandaged arm. “The wound hurt me and made me desperate. By this time we were surrounded by Panu men. I appealed to them for help, but they only laughed. One man, however, came to me and handed me a gun. Scott did not see what was done; he was dragging me along toward the retreating Kataafa men. “The next thing I knew,” Stump declared, a strong fit of trembling seizing him at the thought, “I had stuck the muzzle of the gun close to his neck and pulled the trigger. He let go his hold of me and I ran. I heard the shouts and laughter of the natives behind me.” “I reckon you won’t be hung for it,” O’Neil said consolingly. “The killing of that scoundrel and pirate is probably the most useful thing for humanity you’ve ever done, Stump. Now I advise you to dig out on the next steamer and go home.”