"O Bucongo," said Bones, with a sudden inspiration, "though you do evil, I will endure. But this you shall do and serve me. Brand me alone upon the chest, and upon the back. For if we be branded separately we are bound to one another, and you see how ugly this woman is with her thin nose and her pale eyes; also she has long hair like the grass which the weaver birds use for their nests." He spoke loudly, eagerly, and it seemed convincingly, for Bucongo was in doubt. Truly the woman by all standards was very ugly. Her face was white and her lips thin. She was a narrow woman too, he thought, like one underfed. "This you shall do for me, Bucongo," urged Bones; "for gods do not do evil things, and it would be bad to marry me to this ugly woman who has no hips and has an evil tongue." Bucongo was undecided. "A god may do no evil," he said; "but I do not know the ways of white men. If it be true, then I will mark you twice, Tibbetti, and you shall be my man for ever; and the woman I will not touch." "Cheer oh!" said Bones. "What are you saying--will he let us go?" asked the girl. "I was sayin' what a jolly row there'll be," lied Bones; "and he was sayin' that he couldn't think of hurtin' a charmin' lady like you. Shut your eyes, dear old Miss Hamilton." She shut them quickly, half fainting with terror, for Bucongo was coming towards them, a blazing iron in his hand, a smile of simple benevolence upon his not unintelligent face. "This shall come as a blessing to you, Tibbetti," he said almost jovially. Bones shut his teeth and waited. The hot iron was scorching his silk shirt when a voice hailed the high-priest of the newest of cults. "O Bucongo," it said. Bucongo turned with a grimace of fear and cringed backward before the levelled Colt of Mr. Commissioner Sanders. "Tell me now," said Sanders in his even tone, "can such a man as you die? Think, Bucongo." "Lord," said Bucongo huskily, "I think I can die." "We shall see," said Sanders. * * * * * It was not until after dinner that night that the girl had recovered sufficiently to discuss her exciting morning. "I think you were an awful brute," she addressed her unabashed brother. "You were standing in the wood listening to and seeing everything, and never came till the last minute." "It was my fault," interrupted Sanders. "I wanted to see how far the gentle Bucongo would go." "Dooced thoughtless," murmured Bones under his breath, but audible. She looked at him long and earnestly then turned again to her brother. "There is one thing I want to know," she said. "What was Bones saying when he talked to that horrible man? Do you know that Bones was scowling at me as though I was ... I hardly know how to express it. Was he saying nice things?" Hamilton looked up at the awning, and cleared his throat. "Play the game, dear old sir and brother-officer," croaked Bones. "He said----" began Hamilton.