J
(Continued from last week).
SYNOPSIS
CHAPTER I.—Winton Garrett, twen-
ty-five and just out of college, calls by
appointment on Archie Garrett, his New
York cousin and executor, to receive
his inheritance of $100,000. Archie,
honest, an easy mark and a fool for
Juck, assures Winton that he is prac-
tically a millionaire, as he has invested
all but $10,000 in a rubber plantation
in either the East or West Indies and
in a controlling interest in the Big
Malopo diamond mine, somewhere or
other in South Africa, sold him as a
special favor by a Dutch promoter
mamed De Witt. .
CHAPTER IIL—Winton, en route to
Bis mine, finds the town of Taungs
wildly excited over a big strike at
Malopo, including the 95-carat “De Witt
diamond.” Two coach passengers are
a disreputable old prospector, Daddy
Beaton, and his daughter Sheila. On
the journey a passenger, who turns out
to be De Witt himself, insults Sheila.
Winton fights De Witt and knocks him
out. Sheila tells him to turn back. She
says that her father is a broken Eng-
lish army officer, who has killed a man
and is therefore in De Witt's power,
that De Witt is all-powerful, being
backed by Judge Davis, president of
the diamond syndicate and also the
resident magistrate and judge of the
native protectorate.
CHAPTER IIL.—Winton finds Malopo
fn a turmoil, both over the strike and
the theft of the De Witt diamond. Win-
ton foolishly discloses his identity to
Sam Simpson, a Jamaican negro, sub-
editor of the local newspaper. He more
wisely confides in Ned Burns, watch-
man at the Big Malopo, who tells him
that the syndicate has planned to take
control of the mine the next morning.
CHAPTER IV.—Winton finds that
Sheila is cashier at the restaurant. He
offers his friendship. She rebuffs hii.
Van Vorst, a notorious diamond thief,
.
one of De Witt's men, slips the stolen
De Witt diamond into Winton's pocket
and two policemen club Winton and
arrest him. He escapes them and
when at his last gasp Sheila takes him
into her house, bathes his wounds and
saves him from his pursuers.
CHAPTER V.—The next morning
Sheila offers Winton help in escaping
from Malopo. He convinces her with
difficulty that he did not steal the De
Witt diamond and that he is president
of the Big Malopo company. Bruised
and blood-stained he runs across town,
breaks by force into the company meet-
ing, and aided by a popular demonstra-
tion proves his identity, blocks the re-
organization and takes control, He
asks Sheila to marry him. She laughs
hysterically and refuses him.
CHAPTER VI.—Winton hires Seaton
as compound manager and develops Big
Malopo. Judge Davis, a philosophical
old hypocrite of unknown past, offers
him the syndicate’s co-operation. “Oth-
erwise, he says, ‘we'll smash you, you
d—d young fool.”
Somewhere far back in Winton's
memory a voice was saying:
“As you go through the world you'll
find it doesn’t pay to blurt out your
mind. Try to have a little reticence.”
It was Archie's voice, and Archie's
bland and childlike face came vividly
fnto Winton’s mind. But he went on,
-heedless of the words which rang in
his head:
“I own nearly all the shares in the
company, and Mr. De Witt hardly any.
He has been planning to get control
of the concern, thinking that since I
was supposed to be in America and was
unrepresented by any proxy, it would
be easy to oust me.
“Then he learned that I was in
Malopo, and that it was I who thrashed
him for his behavior to you in the
coach. He set to work at once, pre-
tended that the diamond had been
stolen, and planted it on me, through
the medium of a short man whom I
met on the porch of the Continental
last night. The police set upon me
and took the stone from my pocket.
I had never dreamed that it was there.
I escaped them and ran, because I can't
afford to go to jail, even for a few
days, with so much at stake.”
She looked at him in doubt and won:
der.
“A short man,” she said, “planted
the stone on you. A short man with
black eyes and a heavy mustache?”
“Yes. You know him?”
“Everybody knows him,” answerec
Sheila. “He is Van Vorst, the most no
torious diamond thief in South Africs
20 ommow eseaned the breakwater
He has never been caught yet. If he
s 2. lung enough, no doubt
VICTOR.
ROUSSEAWL
COPYkGHT, 2 WG.CHAPMAN
lie will become a millionaire and ¢
pillar of society. On account of hit
iagenuity the big men, being unable tc
punish him, buy him. They use him t¢
trap other thieves, and in crooked deal:
of all kinds. That explains Var
Vorst’s freedom in Malopo. Mr. Dt
Witt used him to trap you. Oh, Mr
Garrett, I am sorry for having sus
pected you. I should have known; bu
indeed in my heart I did know that you
were a good man.”
! With the realization that she had mis-
judged him there came upon her vividly
i a ~Nense of overwhelming shame ut her
situation with Winton in the little
house. Her face was hidden by
hands, but her throat was scarlet.
“I shall go this morning,” said Win-
ton. “The company meets at ten to
and I have to be on hand—"
She started and
fear. “At ten, did you say?” she cried.
“It is ten o'clock now!”
She drew a little cheap watch from
the front of her dress and held it out.
Winton saw that the hands were almost
upon the hour.
With this the pain left him, he felt
his old vigor in all his limbs; the ter-
rible emergency nerved him. He
looked round for his hat, found it;
then Sheila was holding him by the
arms.
“Wait a moment!” she cried half hys-
terically. “You can’t go like that, Mr.
Garrett. Wait only one moment!”
She darted into her room, seized the
towel, wrung it out in water, and,
running back, snatched off his hat and
began washing his forehead. A stain
of blood came away. She looked at
“Now you can go, she said.
it is right; God be with you.”
Winton was outside and running
across the court. The Chamber of
Commerce was situated at the south-
east corner of the market square. He
had seen it on the preceding day, a
handsome block, one of the finest build-
ings in Malopo. It might take him ten
minutes to reach it. It was question-
able whether he would arrive in time.
He ran on, panting, choosing the
shortest way, which fortunately did not
lead past the Continental, where he
would almost certainly have been rec-
ognized. On he raced, through the
narrower streets, alive with fruit ped-
dlers and old-clothes men, who stopped
and stared in wonder at the sight of
the wild-looking man with blood on
his face and dusty clothing, and
screamed in shrill abuse as he hurled
their carts right and left and cleared
a passage down the middle of the road.
The market square lay before him, a
tangle of transport wagons and oxen.
Winton dodged here and there, thread-
ing the mazes, panted across, and saw
the Chamber of Commerce building in
front of him,
He heard men shouting behind him.
A crowd was collecting, following him.
He looked like a madman, unless he
was the bearer of desperate news of
some rising in the outlying districts.
A policeman tried to intercept him.
Winton hurled the man aside, dashed
into the building, and ran with sure
instinct up the cement steps to the
second story. Upon a door in front
of him he saw the name of the Big
Malopo, painted in small lettering
among the names of twenty other com-
panies, yet staring at him as if he
alone were there.
A man rushed at Winton from some-
where in the passage and collared him,
Winton thought he recognized him as
one of the coach passengers. There
was no doubt that De Witt had placed
him there on guard. He was larger
than Winton and powerfully built, but
Winton got the door partly open and
wedged himself there.
He saw a number of men, who had
been seated about a table inside the
room, leap to their feet. At the head
was a tall, lean old man with a short,
square white beard. Near him was De
Witt, still carrying on his face the
bruises of the fight. The others were
obviously nonentities.
Winton saw what was happening, and
his fury lent him new strength. He
sailant, and the chief shareholder in
the Big Malopo company, entangled
room at the feet of the astonished
small shareholders,
De Witt, who had been speaking,
smashed his fist down on the table.
“Throw that lunatic out, and let's
put this business through!” he yelled.
“The proposition is that this company
g0 into voluntary liquidation for the
purpose of reconstruction and the issue
of preferred stock. I declare the mo-
tion—"
“I oppose it!” shouted Winton, leap-
ing to his feet and fighting off De
Witt's man. “I am Winton Garrett,
owning 80 per cent of the stock. My
certificate—"
He tried to get his hand into his
pocket, but his assailant was dragging
She broke down in complete distress, |
her | :
Judge Davis, stepped forward. He was !
turn over the property to the syndicate, i
looked at him in!
him almost as tenderly as a mother. |
“I know |
struggled madly in the grasp of his as- |
with De Witt's spy, rolled into the !
the room.
have been flung down the stairs, and
the control! of the Big Malopo would
have passed into the syndicate’s hands,
either forever, or pending complicated
legal processes. But a sudden diver-
sion completely changed the situation.
Out of the crewd stepped Ned Burns,
white-haired, white-bearded, waving
his arms furiously.
“You let Mr. Garrett go!” he shouted.
“I know him, and I know you, Mr. De
Witt.
I've worked eight years for you?”
“Bravo, Ned!” shouted the crowd.
“ti0 it, old cock ™
“The motion is carried!”
De Witt.
“That don’t make no difference,”
said Ned, planting himself before him.
“Maybe you think because I was fool
enough to work for you eight years
that I don't know the law, Mr. De
Witt! You may be purser, but the law
of the Colony requires that all proposals
for liquidation must have the assent of
a majority. Mr. Garrett owns the ma-
jority, and he hasn't voted yet.”
“Well done, Ned!” cried the mob.
“Colony law don’t run in Malopo i”
shouted De Witt. “This is a native
protectorate. You think because I've
shouted
| sme you out of your job for finefh
ciency that you'll come here and inter
' fere with this meeting, do you?"
“Let's hear Mr. Garrett!” cried the
crowd,
A tall old man, looking much like
Van Beer, the head of an association
of independest claimholders, and at the
gight of him the noisy crowd became
silent.
“] don’t know what this is about,
Mr. De Witt, but I take issue with you
on the point you raise,” he said. “You
know that the credit of the diamond
companies rests on the belief that
Colony law is valid here. If you are
basing any action upon a negative of
this belief, it will send diamond shares
shooting down to— Well, Judge Davis,
vou know how low they’ll fall if you
take away the security of Colony law
from Malopo. Is there any other hasis
of credit, here, judge?”
“Gentlemen,” cried Judge Davis in
a tremulous voice, “what is all this
guarrel about? Whether or not Colony
law runs here has yet to be passed
on by the Colony courts. We care noth-
ing for that. We act according to our
"lights, believing in justice and fra-
ternity.” :
“Then why don't you allow Mr, Gar-
rett's vote?’ shouted Ned Burns.
“If this gentleman is Mr. Garrett, let
him produce proofs of his identity,”
gquavered the judge.
Winton took his certificate and letter
of introduction from his pocket, and
handed them to the judge, who donned
a pair of spectacles and examined
them, finally handing them back to
Winton. Ie approached De Witt and
murmured something in a low voice.
“Speak up, judge!” shouted a man in
the crowd.
“1 think the meeting had better Le
adjourned pending a private confer-
ence,” said Davis.
“1 adjourn this meeting!” yelled De
Witt furiously, and began to make his
way through the crowd, which broke
into ironical applause.
Ned turned to Winton.
“You win, Mr. Garrett,” he said.
“And you've got the best diamond
claim this side of Kimberley.”
Winton gripped the old man's hands,
and his voice broke as he tried to
thank him.
“That’s all right, my boy,” he an-
swered. “It was along about mid-
night when I got the message that
vou’d be in danger this morning at the
meeting. So I opened the Book, and,
sure enough, there it was written down
In black and white about Eglon, King
of Moab, being stabbed in his summer
house. So I saw you were Eglon, and
this was the summer house, and you
can bet I didn’t sleep too much last
night from worrying over it.”
The crowd, which had increased until
it filled the room and the greater part
of the passage, showed in unmistak-
able ways where its sympathies lay. It
surrounded Winton, patting him on the
back and throwing out promiscuous in-
vitations to drink. De Witt made for
the passage. Judge Davis went up to
Winton.
“This has been a very unfortunate
misunderstanding, Mr. Garrett,” he
quavered.
raternal regrets for the mistake due
to the unceremonious manner of your
appearance in the board room. I trust
you will not feel any prejudice against
the Diamond Fields Syndicate on ac-
count of it. We aim at the harmonious
development of all local interests, for
the common good. It is my ambition,
and the ambition of our fellow citizens
assembled here, to make Malopo a
center of fraternity and brotherhood,
and to enlist your aid in fighting for
peace, purity, and temperance.”
“Three cheers for Judge Davis!
Hats off to the judge!” shouted the
crowd. ’
Amid ironical applause, which
seemed in nowlise to disturb or discon-
cert him, and had its visible effect
only in the tightened lip and in an in-
creasing unctuousness which he seemed
‘to diffuse, Judge Davis followed De
| Witt. Winton turned to Ned.
“I'll never forget,” he said, “and you
can count on a job with me as long as
| you want one.”
Gripping the old man’s hand again,
! he tried to make his way through the
crowd. But by this time the enthus-
.lasm had passed all restraint. He
| found himself seized and hoisted upon
| the shoulders of two men. Struggling
| Retactively, he was carried down the
| stairs and into the bar of the nearest
hotel, where he was deposited upon
i
In another moment Winton would :
Discharge me, will you, after
I Sheila
| Winton
him toward the door. There came a the counter. Somebody bad ordered
scuffle of feet in the passage, and the champagne, and in a trice the corks
policeman, heading the mob, burst into were popping and all were drinking
| Winton's health.
“You've done a good day's work for
Malopo in keeping the independent
mines out of the clutches of the syndi-
cate,” said Van Beer, who had followed
in the wake of the crowd. “Take care
that Davis doesn't get the Big Ma-
lopo away from you. We heard he'd
been cursing himself for having un-
loaded on a bunch of asses in America,
but that you should turn up at the
nick of time, certificate and all—it’s
like a play, sir. Here's health to you!®
And he drained his glass.
Presently Winton managed to slip
away from his admirers and escape
into the street. And the insistent
:hought of Sheila pressed upon him—
Sheila, awaiting to learn the news,
zager for his success; Sheila, who had
risked everything for him.
Winton went back as fast as he
ould walk toward the wretched house
in the ontskirts. He felt sick and
weak new that the reaction had come
apen him, but kis heart was uplifted at
che thought of Sheila; her faith, her
‘oyalty. and her bitter fight. It was
nerhaps inevitable that men like Van
Boer should misunderstand her. He
felt no rancor on account of this: but
he meant to take the ipl ont of her
fp, ectallizh her with her fothnr in a
house on the claim, where the old man
should tind the employment that had
been promised him by De Witt.
opened the door instantly
when he tapped; she scanned his face
eagerly.
“I've won.” said Winton, and he saw
the color fade out of her face. She
leaned against the frame of the door,
looking down.
glanced out across the
desert, The clean air seemed to rush
through him, bringing vitality and
strength and resolution. Far away he
saw the blue mountains toward which
Sheila and he had traveled out of the
squalor of Taungs. They seemed now
to be a symbol. At that moment the
girl appeared to him like a wild bird,
caught in the thin wires of a hundred
conventions: her father's need of her,
her utter dependence upon that society
which outraged her pride and trod her
heart under its feet, and yet held her in
secure servitude. He knew the long-
ing for freedom in her heart; he knew,
too, that physical bondage had never
quenched the freedom of her spirit.
He turned toward her, and she
looked up and came quickly toward
him and put her hands in bis of her ac-
cord,
“I have heen ungrateful to you,” she !
said. “I want to speak plainly now.
Last night when I asked you not to see :
me again it was because of many thing
which made it seem right that you
should not: my father, and your pity,
whieh I could not bear. And you are a
gentleman, and I—I am not well edu-
cated, and—" She was breaking down,
but she struggled on bravely. “But
- now you know why we must be stran-
gers forever, after what has happened
here and what people would say if they
knew.”
“No,” answered Winton.
know.”
He drew her toward him. The sun-
light lay like molten gold about them.
“I love you, Sheila, and I want you
to be my wife.”
She recoiled as if his words stupe-
fied her. Then she began laughing
hysterically.
“You ure very generous and very
kind,” she said. “I understand your
goodness. You are sorry for me from
the depths of your heart, and y2u think
you owe me reparation. No! That is
final. Never! Never!”
She turned, as with an effort, and
ran into the house. Winton stood look-
ing after her until the door of the
inner room was closed. He knew that
only love could heal her $hirit; was it
not love that had woven the threads
which had so strangely bound them
since that morning when they looked
“I do not
' at each other before the coach office in
“I wish to tender you my
Taungs?
As he stood there, undecided, there
came across the court the hiccuped
chant of a popular song. Winton looked
round. Daddy Seaton was coming
stumbling home.
CHAPTER VI
Judge Davis Shows His Hand.
Winton’s proposal of marriage had
been in nowise an act inspired by the
sense of having placed the girl in a
false position. He loved Sheila. When
he was away from her he realized the
folly of his precipitancy; he knew
nothing of her, and his sense of pru-
dence reproached him. But in her pres-
ence he felt that without her existence
would be hardly endurable.
He loved her, present or absent;
only, absent, the conventions of his up-
bringing fenced in his mood and bade
him wait. He resolved to wait, and he
was confident that he could win her.
As soon as work began on the Big
Malopo he meant te give her father the
position of compound manager and to
establish them near him. Meanwhile
he moved from the Continental to an-
other hotel of the same type, on the
opposite side of the market square,
where he slept and took his breakfast
and supper. The rest of the day he
spent on the claim.
On the day following the meeting in
the chamber of commerce Judge
Davis formally acknowledged Winton's
claims. Winton's first act was to dis
charge De Witt and to appoint himself
purser. He was thus in complete con-
trol of the Big Malopo.
Looking through the cost book in
! Judge Davis’ oftice, he found that of
the twenty shares not held by himself,
Davis owned eight, and Hanson, the
editor of the Chronicle, five. De Witt,
who was simply the syndicate’s dummy,
had one share only. The remaining six
were distributed among four local men,
one of whom held three and the others
a single share apiece,
Banking upon their ownership of the
claim, the syndicate had obligingly re
lieved the purser of a large amount of
trouble. They had been incredibly
active since the discovery of the big
diamond. Machinery had been or-
dered, the local brick field was turning
out bricks for them, and a dozen trans.
port wagons were already on their way
from Taungs, loaded with timber,
Agents were at work in the native ter
ritories securing gangs of laborers,
Winton appointed Ned Burns general
overseer under him. The old man was
very grateful for the position, which
was better than any he had held in his
life, and he was of the greatest aid
to Winton in posting him as to the de:
tails of the work. He cautioned him
against Judge Davis’ friendliness as
much as De Witt's enmity. Neither
man would forego his hopes of obtain:
ing the claim on behalf’ of the syndi
cate, he said.
Native labor was the chief problem
the pick of the tribesmen being drawr
off to the Kimberley fields and the
Johannesburg gold mines. However
the syndicate had agents scouring
Bechuanaland, and tle contracts held
good. The compound was being con
structed rapidly, nol on the claim it
self, which was too small and much tog :
valuable, but on about three acres or
land which had been acquired just be- :
vond the diamond-bearing tract.
Here the natives would be housed.
On either side were the compounds ot
the larger claims, flanking the diamond
clay as far as the eye could see, an
endless line of brick cottages and na-
tive stores, fenced in with barbed wire,
a desolation of refuse, tin cans, dust,
and sand.
Just outside the compound Winton
was having a cottage for the com-
pound manager constructed, entailing
no great labor in a country where plas- |
interiors and heating
tered are un-
—
Winton appoint-
ed Ned Burns
general over-
seer under him.
necessary and almost unknown. He
pictured Daddy Seaton there—and
Sheila. But Winton did not let his
mind dwell on these dreams overmuch,
| for he was of a practical nature, and
the work in hand engrossed him.
Every moment of his day was oc-
cupied. '
He was building a small brick strue-
ture for himself also. It was near the
shack in which Burns lived, and was to
serve for living quarters and for an
office. The diamond, which had been
restored by the police, with many
apologies for the misunderstanding—
though Winton knew the police had
been quite aware of his identity and
privy to De Witt’s scheme—now rested
in a safe inside.
This might have appeared rash to
the uninitiated, but, while there was a
good deal of buying of stones comn-
veyed illicitly out of the compounds, |
there had never been the theft of a
recorded stone, except for the pseudo |
theft from the bank. Public opinion
rendered such an act almost impos-
sible. Diamonds were the one com- |
modity that were safe from robbers in
Malopo.
The machinery arrived as soon as
the building was finished. Then fol-
lowed a week of the hardest kind of
work, at the end of which Winton had
a clear idea of the process of diamond
mining. All operations at Malopo were
of a crude and primitive kind, even his
own, since the grounds had not yet
proved themselves sufficiently to justify
the introduction of expensive ap-
paratus.
In substance, the clay was simply
dug up and sent to the surface in|
buckets, hoisted by whims, or vertical §
winches, consisting each of a drum
rotating on a shaft, on which the hoist-
ing rope wound. The material was
then carried in large barrows to the
distributing grounds where, after some
disintegration had been effected by ex-
posure to sun and air, it was crushed
and fed into the washing troughs, in |
which the stones and heavy minerals
were separated from the lighter de-
posits by revolving toothed arms, The
refuse was then picked over by the na-
tives in the compounds.
Winton entered into a contract with |
a local concern that controlled the
water supply by means of shafts sunk
into the river bed two or three mnilles
outside the town. This wes the most
important feature of the working of
the claim. Without water he would
be unable to begin operations or to
continue them.
At last, stopping to take breath, Win. |
ton found that nothing was needed for ,
the beginning of the mining work ex-
cept the arrival of the natives. Three
gangs were expected, and might arrive
any day.
Ha turned his thoughts again to
Seaton. A compound manager was, of :
| a combine broke him.
. hour
' wide open and supposing that Seaton
course, necessary for the overseeing of
the workers, and he resolved to offer
old Seaton the position which he had
mentally reserved for him. Seaton was
known as a man eminently qualified
for the position, but owing to his habits
none would employ him.
It was nearly three weeks since Win.
ton had seen Sheila. He did not know
for certain that the girl and her father
were still in Malopo. He was thinking
of inquiring for the old man when he
was surprised by a visit from him at
an early hour in the morning.
Daddy Seaton was wearing a new
suit, he was perfectly sober, and looked
almost respectable.
“Mr. Garrett, I don’t suppose you'll
know who I am,” he began; “but every-
body in Maiopo knows me, and they'll
tell you that there ain’t a better work:
man than Stanford Seaton when he
leaves liquor alone. That's been my
bane—but, then, I've had a heap of
trouble, sir.”
“Looking for a job?’ asked Winton.
“And employers fight shy of me be.
cause of my weakness,” continued Sea:
ton frankly, determined to put his story
in his own way. “But I can say there
isn’t a man in Malopo understands the
natives better. I heard you wanted a
compound manager, and if you'll give
me a chance you won't regret it. 1
shall never torch drink again. I've had
enough of it, sir” :
“I'll try you, Seaton,” answered Win-
ton. *‘Report for work tomorrow morn-
ing; and you can move into that cot-
tage as soon as you like.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to
aad “and your daughter.” But Winton
cautiously refrained. When he set
about a thing he had all the method and
prudence of his father, who had been
a financial power in New York berore
Winton was re-
solved either to win Sheila or to probe
the situation and discaver the secret
of the girl's fascination over him,
His heart cried out for her, but his
head warned him of his unwisdom.
And Winton, like most men, was
swayed by both; only with him they
were in unusual equipoise.
He unlocked the cottage door and
left Seaton inspecting the inside, re-
turning to work in his office. About an
later, seeing the cottage door
had left the key in the lock, he went
over to close the place. He looked in-
side and saw the old man lying upon
' the floor hopelessly drunk, an empty
bottle of trade gin beside him.
Seaton had certainly not had the bot-
tle about him when he arrived. There
was only one place where he could
have got it, and that was on the adjoin-
ing claim.
This was one of a block owned by
the syndicate. It ran its own native
' store, which was in charge of a fellow
nanied Kash, an Armenian, a little,
blear-eyed, scoundrelly-looking maraud-
er who, Ned Burns had said, made
most of his revenue froin the sale of
. liquor to the natives in defiance of the
prohibitory law.
Saturday afternoon was a half holi-
day in the compounds, and at noon the
gates were thrown open until midnight.
As most of the natives were Bechuun»s,
the formal challenges, folio ved Ly
murderous itiertribal fights with knob-
kerries, which were a regular Satur-
day afternoon performance ou the goll
fields at Johannesburg, did not take
place at Malopo. During the week-end,
however, drunkenness and brawling
were universal, the length of the recs
was a scene of uproar and riot, to
which nobody paid any attention, and
the cause was the trade gin sold by
every storekeepe . It was the current
belief that the native could not be
stopped from procuring liquor, and the
syndicate winked at Kash’s activities.
Winton had looked on the matter dif-
ferently from the first. While deter-
mined to go slowly, the sight of Sea-
ton, lying dead drunk upon the floor,
roused him to furious anger. Burning
with indignation, he crossed the syn-
dicate claim and entered the store.
It was one of the filthiest places that
Winton had ever seen. The front was
hung with second-hand clothing and
gaudy-colored blankets with lions and
heads of women woven patchily into
their surfaces. Canned foods, put up
years previously and probably con-
demned, twists of tobacco, cheap sweets
exposed to the innumerable flies, rolls
of soiled calico in white and blue 1it-
tered the shelves, with beads and imi-
tation jewelry which the natives took
home to adorn the wives bought with
the earnings of their apprenticeship.
Behind the counter stood Kash, blink-
ing like an owl out of the ‘darkness.
“You've been selling liquor to my
compound manager,” cried Winton an-
grily.
Kash flung up his hands in horror at
the suggestion. ‘No, sair!” he pro-
tested. “I sell no drink to any one)
Never, sair! I'm good merchant, hon-
est merchant!”
He had just finished speaking when,
before Winton could reply, a trap-door
in the floor opened, and there emerged
the head of a yellow Hoitentot, and a
hand wiping the mouth in evident sat-
isfaction. As the man saw Winton his
eyes rolled with fear. His head van-
ished and the trap-door fell with a
clang.
Winton was upon the spot in an in-
stant, pulled up the door, and saw bhe-
neath him a short flight of steps, lead-
ing into a tunnel dimly lit by a smail
electric bulb. ‘As he ran down he heard
the Armenian screaming wildly behind
him. He reached the passage just as
the light went out. An electric bell be-
gan ringing. There was a scurrying of
feet at the end of the passuge, where a
faint gleam of daylight showed. When
Winton reached it he saw a second
flight of steps, and, ascending these, he
found himself in the syndicate com-
pound, with a gang of half a dozen na-
tives flying before him in all directions.
(Continued next week). y