"This is no sport, M'gobo," answered Bones quickly. "This is a palaver, a killing palaver. Was it a woman who slew B'chumbiri? so that she is not present at this palaver. Lo, then I go to hold council with women!"
M'gobo's face was all distorted like a man stricken with paralysis.
"Tibbetti!" he said, "I slew B'chumbiri—according to custom—and I will answer to Sandi, who is a man, and understands such palavers."
"Think well," said Bones, deathly white, "think well, O man, before you say this."
"I killed him, O fool," said M'gobo loudly, "though his father turned woman at the last—with these hands I cut him, using two knives——"
"Damn you!" said Bones, and shot him dead.
Hamilton, so far convalescent that he could smoke a cigarette, heard the account without interruption.
"So there you are, sir," said Bones at the side. "An' I felt like a jolly old murderer, but, dear old officer, what was I to do?"