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 precious dignity, from what His Whiskers here says."
"They're not going to get the chance," snapped Kettle. "Handcuffs, by James! Here, clear out, Doc, and let me get the ship under way."
"No," said Clay. "I fancy I've had about enough of the Congo Free State service, too. I'll come, too."
"Don't be an idiot."