The Keepers of the King's Peace Part 27

"Did I shoot it, dear old Ham?" asked Bones, with great calmness.

"Did you?" asked Hamilton innocently.

"Did I shoot at that leopard," Bones went on deliberately, "an' was he found next mornin' cold an' dead, with a smile on his naughty old face?"

Hamilton nodded, and Bones faced the girl expectantly.

"Apologize, child," he said.

"I shall do nothing of the kind," she replied, with some heat. "Did Bones shoot the leopard?"

She appealed to her brother.

Hamilton looked from one to the other.

"When the leopard was found----" he began.

"Listen to this, dear old sister," murmured Bones.

"When the leopard was found, with a spear in its side----"

"Evidently done after death by a wanderin' cad of a native," interposed Bones hastily.

"Be quiet, Bones," commanded the girl, and Bones shrugged his shoulders and obeyed.

"When the leopard was found," continued Hamilton, "he was certainly beyond human aid, and though no bullet mark was discovered, Bones conclusively proved----"

"One moment, dear old officer," interrupted Bones. He had seen out of the tail of his eye a majestic figure crossing the square.

"Will you allow me to produce scientific an' expert evidence?"

Hamilton a.s.sented gravely, and Bones went to the door of the orderly room and roared a name.

"I shall produce," he said quietly, but firmly, "the evidence of one who enjoyed the confidence of dear old Professor What's-his-name, the eminent thigumy-ologist. Oh, Ali!"

Ali Abid, a solemn figure, salaamed in the doorway.

Not for nothing had he been factotum to a great bacteriologist before the demise of his master had driven him to service with a lieutenant of Houssas. His vocabulary smelt of the laboratory, his English was pure, undefiled, and unusual.

"Ali, you remember my leopard?"

"Sir," said Ali, shaking his head, "who can forget?"

"Did I kill him, Ali?" asked Bones. "Tell the lady everything."

Ali bowed to the girl.

"Miss or madame," he said, "the leopard (_Felis pardus_), a wild beast of the Felidae family, is indigenous to forest territory. The subject in question--to wit, the skin thereof exhibited by Sir Bones--was particularly ferocious, and departed this life as a result of hunting conducted by aforesaid. Examination of subject after demise under most scientific scrutiny revealed that said leopard (_Felis pardus_) suffered from weak heart, and primary cause of death was diagnosed as shock occasioned by large 'bang' from Sir Bones's rifle."

"What did I say?" asked Bones complacently.

"Do you mean to tell me," gasped the girl, "that you _frightened_ the leopard to death?"

Bones spread out his hands disparagingly.

"You have heard the evidence, dear old sister," he said; "there is nothing to add."

She threw back her head and laughed until her grey eyes were swimming in tears.

"Oh, Bones, you humbug!" she laughed.

Bones drew himself up more stiffly than ever, stuck his monocle in his eye, and turned to his chief.

"Do I understand, sir," he said, "that my leave is granted?"

"Seven days," said Hamilton, and Bones swung round on his heel, knocked over Hamilton's stationery rack, stumbled over a chair, and strode gloomily from the hut.

When Patricia Hamilton woke the next morning, she found a note pinned to her pillow.

We may gloss over the impropriety of the proceedings which led to this phenomenon. Bones was an artist, and so small a matter as the proprieties did not come into his calculations.

Patricia sat up in bed and read the letter.

"DEAR OLD FRIEND AND DOUTTING THOS."

(Bones's spelling was always perfectly disgraceful),--

"When this reaches you, when this reaches you, I shall be far, far away on my long and dangerus journey. I may not come back, I may not come back, for I and a faithful servant are about to penetrate to the lares of the wild beasts of the forest, of the forest. I am determined to wipe out the reproach which you have made. I will bring back, not a dead leppard, not a dead leppard, but a live one, which I shall seeze with my own hands. I may lose my life in this rash and hazardus enterprise, but at least I shall vindycate my honour.--Farewell, dear old Patrisia.

"Your friend,

"B."

"Which proves," said Hamilton, when he was shown the letter, "that Bones is learning to spell. It only seems yesterday when he was spelling 'Hamilton' with three m's. By the way, how did you get this letter?"

"I found it pinned to the door," said Patricia tactfully.

Bones went by the shortest route to Jumburu, and was received without enthusiasm, for he had left a new chief to rule over a people who were near enough to the B'wigini to resent overmuch discipline. But his business was with K'sungasa, for the two days' stay which Bones had made in the village, and all that he had learnt of the old tamer, had been responsible for his reckless promise to Patricia Hamilton.

He came at a critical moment, for K'sungasa, a thin and k.n.o.bbly old man, with dim eyes and an incessant chuckle, was very near his end. He lay on a fine raised bed, a big yellow-eyed wild cat at his feet, a monkey or two shivering by the bedside, and a sprawling litter of kittens--to which the wild cat leapt in a tremble of rage when Bones entered the hut--crawling in the sunlight which flooded the hut.

"Lord Tibbetti," croaked the old man, "I see you! This is a good time, for to-morrow I should be dead."

"K'sungasa," said Bones, seating himself gingerly, and looking about for the snake which was usually coiled round the old man's stool, "that is foolish talk, for you will see many floods."

"That is fine talk for the river folk," grinned the old man, "but not for we people of the forest, who never see flood and only little-little rivers. Now, I tell you, lord, that I am glad to die, because I have been full of mad thoughts for a long time, but now my mind is clear.

Tell me, master, why you come."

Bones explained his errand, and the old man's eyes brightened.