Page:Harris Dickson--Old Reliable in Africa.djvu/217



OOKING towards the uproar, Old Reliable stole out from the Colonel's room and peeped warily around a corner of the gallery. "Lordee! Dem niggers sho is fightin'." The three Arabs in the garden—Mahomet, Ibrahim and Said—were not actually fighting, merely clutching one another's wrists with much tussling and many ferocious words.

"Huh! Lissen!" Zack cocked up his ear. "Dey mus' be cussin' scan'lous." Seeing no weapons, he moved nearer, step by step, as Mahomet wrested a gold piece from Ibrahim. Said protested with a screech, and Mahomet demanded more. Ibrahim sweated a few drops of silver to the clamorous Said, while Mahomet grabbed his wrist to prevent Said from getting more. Old Reliable had never seen it done exactly that way, yet his kindred instinct laid the transaction bare. "Dar now!" he snorted. "Jes' look at dem niggers, 'vidin' up de Cunnel's money. I'll fix 'em." He moved back stealthily into Colonel Spottiswoode's room, and peered from the window; then he flung 203