Forced marches through little known territory, and long and tiring waits for the invader that never came, had dulled his senses of apprehension. He had to take a chance. The Administrator's office would warn him from time to time, and ask him conventionally to make his arrangements to meet all contingencies and Sanders would as conventionally reply that the condition of affairs on the Ochori border was engaging his most earnest attention. "What is the use of worrying about it now?" asked Bones at dinner. Hamilton shook his head. "There was a certain magic in old Sanders' name," he said. Bones' lips pursed. "My dear old chap," he said, "there is a bit of magic in mine." "I have not noticed it," said Hamilton. "I am getting awfully popular as a matter of fact," said Bones complacently. "The last time I was up the river, Bosambo came ten miles down stream to meet me and spend the day." "Did you lose anything?" asked Hamilton ungraciously. Bones thought. "Now you come to mention it," he said slowly, "I did lose quite a lot of things, but dear old Bosambo wouldn't play a dirty trick on a pal. I know Bosambo." "If there is one thing more evident than another," said Hamilton, "it is that you do not know Bosambo." Hamilton was wakened at three in the next morning by the telegraph operator. It was a "clear the line" message, coded from headquarters, and half awake he went into Sanders' study and put it into plain English. "Hope you are watching the Ochori border," it ran, "representations from French Government to the effect that a crossing is imminent." He pulled his mosquito boots on over his pyjamas, struggled into a coat and crossed to Lieutenant Tibbetts' quarters. Bones occupied a big hut at the end of the Houssa lines, and Hamilton woke him by the simple expedient of flashing his electric hand lamp in his face. "I have had a telegram," he said, and Bones leapt out of bed wide awake in an instant. "I knew jolly well I would draw a horse," he said exultantly. "I had a dream----" "Be serious, you feather-minded devil." With that Hamilton handed him the telegram. Bones read it carefully, and interpreted any meanings into its construction which it could not possibly bear. "What are you going to do?" he asked. "There is only one thing to do," said Hamilton. "We shall have to take all the men we can possibly muster, and go north at daybreak." "Spoken like a jolly old Hannibal," said Bones heartily, and smacked his superior on the back. A shrill bugle call aroused the sleeping lines, and Hamilton went back to his quarters to make preparations for the journey. In the first grey light of dawn he flew three pigeons to Bosambo, and the message they carried about their red legs was brief. "Take your fighting regiments to the edge of Frenchi land; presently I will come with my soldiers and support you. Let no foreigner pass on your life and on your head."