everything and never forget nothing. He pull you out of this hole, never
fear."

"Glad to hear it, I am sure," answered Alan as he rose. "But what's to
become of the Mungana?"

"Don't know and don't care," said Jeekie; "no more good to us. Can go
and see how Big Bonsa feel, if he like," and stretching out his big hand
as though in a moment of abstraction, he removed the costly necklaces
from their guide's neck and thrust them into the pouch he wore. Also he
picked up the gilded linen mask which Alan had removed from his head and
placed it in the same receptacle, remarking, that he "always taught that
it wicked to waste anything when so many poor in the world."

Then they started, the Mungana following them. Jeekie paused and waved
him off, but the poor wretch still came on, whereon Jeekie produced the
big, crooked knife, Mungana's own knife.

"What are you going to do," said Alan, awaking to the situation.

"Cut off head of that cocktail man, Major, and so save him lot of
trouble. Also we got no grub, and if we find any he want eat a lot. Chop
what do for two p'raps, make very short commons for three. Also he might
play dirty trick, so much best dead."

"Nonsense," said Alan sternly; "let the poor devil come along if he
likes. One good turn deserves another."

"Just so, Major; that hello-swello want cut our throats, so I want cut
his--one good turn deserve another, as wise king say in Book, when