We sealed the second letter in several wrappers, and sewed it up finally in a piece of waterproof silk.  Then we sent for Kazimoto and ordered him to find the sort of messenger we needed.

“Send me!” he urged.  “I will start now, before it is light!  I will hide by day and travel by night until I reach the British border!  Give me only enough cooked food and my pay and I will take the letter without fail!”

We refused, for he was too useful to us.  He begged again and again to be sent with the letter, promising faithfully to wait for us afterward on the British side of the border at any place we should name.  But we upbraided him for cowardice, ordered him to find another messenger, and promised him he need have no fear of Germans as long as he remained our servant.

Before high noon we would each have given many years of Kazimoto’s pay if only we could have recalled that decision and have known that he was speeding away from Muanza toward a border where white men knew the use of mercy.

Just as the first peep of dawn began to color the sky Schubert came swaggering down-street to us, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“How have you slept?” he asked us, laughing.

We answered something or other.

“I did not trouble to sleep!  I stayed and finished the drinks.  I have just swallowed the last of the beer!  Whoever wants a morning drink must wait for it now until the overland safari comes!”

We displayed no interest.  Brown, the only one likely to yearn for alcohol before breakfast, snored in his still.

“What of it now?  I go drill my troops.  Parade is sharp!  There remain twenty minutes.  Come with me tell your secret at the boma now, before it is too late!”

“Explain why it would be too late after breakfast!” demanded Fred.

“All right,” said Schubert.  “I will tell you this much.  There will come a launch this morning from Kisumu in British East.  There will be people on that launch, one of whom has authority that overrides that of the commandant of this place.  The commandant desires to know your information—­and get the credit for it—­before that individual, whose authority is higher, comes.  Is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” Fred answered.

“See if this is clear, too!” cut in Will.  “You go and ask your commandant what price he offers for the secret!  Nothing for nothing!  Tell him we’re not afraid of him!”

“It is none of my business to tell him anything,” sneered Schubert, spitting and turning on his heel.  He swaggered out of the camping-ground and up-street again, leaving the clear impression behind him that he washed his hands of us for good and all.

“Let’s watch him drill his men,” said I.  “I’ll wait on the hospital steps until they open the place.”

So we ate a scratch breakfast and Fred and Will helped me up-street, past where the Jew stood blinking in the morning sun on the steps of the D.O.A.G.  He seemed to be saying prayers, but beckoned to us.