"Is that Messenwah?" asked Gordon.

"Yes," said Stedman; "he is trying to keep them back. I don't
believe he ever saw a white man before."

"Stedman," said Albert, speaking quickly, "give your gun to
Bradley, and go forward with your arms in the air, and waving
your handkerchief, and tell them in their language that the
King is coming. If they go at you, Bradley and I will kill a
goat or two, to show them what we can do with the rifles; and
if that don't stop them, we will shoot at their legs; and if
that don't stop them--I guess you'd better come back, and
we'll all run."

Stedman looked at Albert, and Albert looked at Stedman, and
neither of them winced or flinched.

"Is this another of my secretary's duties?" asked the younger
boy.

"Yes," said the consul; "but a resignation is always in order.
You needn't go if you don't like it. You see, you know the
language and I don't, but I know how to shoot, and you don't."

"That's perfectly satisfactory," said Stedman, handing his gun
to old Bradley. "I only wanted to know why I was to be
sacrificed instead of one of the Bradleys. It's because I
know the language. Bradley, Sr., you see the evil results of
a higher education. Wish me luck, please," he said, "and for