and chopped you afterward. But I'd like to remind you that we ran
in-shore and took you away in spite of their teeth."

"You are very brave," sneered the Commandant, "you and Monsieur le
Docteur."

"Well, you see," said Kettle with cheerful insult, "our grandfathers
didn't run away at Waterloo, and that gives us something to go upon."

"I put you under arrest," screamed the Belgian. "I will have
satisfaction for this later. I----"

"Steady on," said Clay, with a yawn. He put down his banjo, stretched,
and stood up. Behind him the bullets pattered merrily against the iron
plating. "Why on earth do you two keep on nagging? Look at me--I'm half
drunk as usual, and I'm as happy as a lord. Take a peg, each of you, and
sweeten your tempers."

They glared at him from each side.

"Now it's not the least use either of you two trying to quarrel with me.
We might as well all be friends together for the little time we've got.
We've a good deal in common: we're all bad eggs, and we're none of us
fit for our billets. Monsieur le Commandant, you were a sous-officier in
Belgium who made Brussels too hot to hold you; you come out here, and
you're sent to govern a district the size of Russia, which is a lot
beyond your weight.

"Friend Kettle, you put a steamer on the ground in the lower Congo; you
probably had a bad record elsewhere, or you'd never have drifted to the