But Coutlass was imperturbable for once.  He laid a hand on Fred’s knee, and changed his tone to one of gentle persuasion between friend and friend.

“Ah!  Mr. Oakes, I know you now too well!  You are not the man to leave me in the lurch!  These others perhaps!  You never!  You know me, too.  You have seen me under all conditions.  You are able to judge my character.  You know how firm a friend I can be, as well as how savage an enemy!  You know I would never be false to a friend such as you—­to a man whom I admire as I do you!”

Will Yerkes, who had tried to keep a straight face, now went off into peals of laughter, rolling over on his back and rocking his legs in the air—­a performance that did not appear to discourage Coutlass in the least.  Brown was far from amused.  He advised throwing the Greek into the lake.

“Remember those cattle o’ mine!” he insisted.

“Yes!” agreed Coutlass.  “Remember those cattle!  Consider what a man of quick decision and courage I am!  How useful I can be!  What a forager!  What a guide!  What a fighting man!  What a hunter!  What a liar on behalf of my friends!  What a danger for my friends’ enemies!  What are the cattle of a drunkard like Brown—­the poor unhappy sot!—­compared to the momentary needs of a gentleman!  Ah!  By the ordeal!  I am a gentleman, and that is the secret of it all!  You, Mr. Oakes, as one brave gentleman, can not despise the right hand of friendship of Georges Coutlass, another gentleman!  I know you can not!  You haven’t it in you!  You were born under another star than that!  I have confidence!  I sit contented!”

“You good-for-nothing villain!” Fred grinned.  “I’ll take you at your word!” and Brown of Lumbwa gasped, the very hairs of his red beard bristling.

“I knew you would!” said Coutlass calmly.  “These others are not gentlemen.  They do not understand.”

“If your word is good for anything,” Fred continued.

“My word is my bond!” said the Greek.

“And you really want to prove yourself my friend—­”

“I would go to hell for you and bring you back the devil’s favorite wife!”

“I will set you on the mainland, to go and recover those cattle of Mr. Brown’s from the Masai who raided them!  Return them to Lumbwa, and I’ll guarantee Brown shall shake hands with you!”

“Pah!  Brown!  That drunkard!”

“See here!” said Brown, getting up and peeling off his coat.  “I’ve had enough of being called drunkard by you.  Put up your dukes!”

But a fight between Brown and the Greek with bare fists would have been little short of murder.  Brown was in no condition to thrash that wiry customer, and we in no mood to see Coutlass get the better of him.

“Don’t be a fool, Brown!  Sit down!” ordered Fred, and having saved his face Brown condescended readily enough.

“What you said’s right,” he admitted.  “Let him get my cattle back afore he’s fit to fight a gentleman!”