The sun was casting long shadows eastward when they returned. They had not far to come, for the place they had chosen for their picnic was well within the Residency reservation, but Bones had been describing on his way back one of the remarkable powers he possessed, namely, his ability to drag the truth from reluctant and culpable natives. And every time he desired to emphasize the point he would stop, lower all his impedimenta to the ground, cluttering up the landscape with picnic-box, drawing-board, sketching-blocks and the numerous bunches of wild flowers he had culled at her request, and press his argument with much palm-punching. He stopped for the last time on the very edge of the barrack square, put down his cargo and proceeded to demolish the doubt she had unwarily expressed. "That's where you've got an altogether erroneous view of me, dear old sister," he said triumphantly. "I'm known up an' down the river as the one man that you can't deceive. Go up and ask the Bomongo, drop in on the Isisi, speak to the Akasava, an' what will they say? They'll say, 'No, ma'am, there's no flies on jolly old Bones--not on your life, Harriet!'" "Then they would be very impertinent," smiled Pat. "Ask Sanders (God bless him!). Ask Ham. Ask----" he was going on enthusiastically. "Are you going to camp here, or are you coming in?" she challenged. Bones gathered up his belongings, never ceasing to talk. "Fellers like me, dear young friend, make the Empire--paint the whole bally thing red, white an' blue--'unhonoured an' unsung, until the curtain's rung, the boys that made the Empire and the Navy.'" "Bones, you promised you wouldn't sing," she said reproachfully; "and, besides, you're not in the navy." "That doesn't affect the argument," protested Bones, and was rapidly shedding his equipment in preparation for another discourse, when she walked on towards Sanders who had come across the square to meet them. Bones made a dive at the articles he had dropped, and came prancing (no other word describes his erratic run) up to Sanders. "I've just been telling Miss Hamilton, sir and Excellency, that nobody can find things that old Bones--you'll remember, sir, the episode of your lost pyjama legs. Who found 'em?" "You did," said Sanders; "they were sent home in your washing. Talking about finding things, read this." He handed a telegraph form to the young man, and Bones, peering into the message until his nose almost touched the paper, read-- "Very urgent. Clear the line. Administration. "To Sanders, Commission River Territories. Message begins. Belgian Congo Government reports from Leopoldville, Bacteriological Expedition carriers raided on edge of your territory by Inner N'gombi people, all stores looted including case of 20 culture tubes. Stop. As all these cultures are of virulent diseases, inoculate Inner N'gombi until intact tubes recovered. Message ends."