alluringly.

Kettle's pale cheeks flushed darkly. "No," he said, "by James! No,
that's not the way for a thing like you to set about it." He jumped to
his feet, and thrust his savage little face close to the black soldier's
eyes. "Give me dem handcuffs." The man surrendered them limply, and
Kettle flung them overboard. Balliot was trying to get a revolver from
the leather holster at his waist, but Kettle, who had his weapon in a
hip pocket, was ready first, and covered him.

"Throw up your hands!"

Commandant Balliot did so. He knew enough about Captain Kettle to
understand that he meant business.

"Tell your soldiers to drop their guns, or I'll spread their brains on
the deck."

Balliot obeyed that order also.

"Now, Doc," said Kettle in a different tone, "pack your traps and go
ashore."

"What for?" asked Clay.

"Because I'm going to take this steamer for a cruise up river. I don't
mind getting the sack; I'd reckoned on that. But, by James! I'm not
going to be arrested by these Belgian brutes, and that's final."

"Well, I suppose they would string you up, or shoot you, to soothe their