"Then let's chuck it," said Bones, and shut up his book with a bang. "I don't want any book to teach me what to do with a feller that calls me a liar. I'll go you one game of picquet, for nuts."
"You're on," said Hamilton.
"My nuts I think, sir."
Bones carefully counted the heap which his superior had pushed over, "And—hullo! what the dooce do you want?"
Hamilton followed the direction of the other's eyes. A man stood in the doorway, naked but for the wisp of skirt at his waist. Hamilton got up quickly, for he recognized the chief of Sandi's spies.
"O Kelili," said Hamilton in his easy Bomongo tongue, "why do you come and from whence?"
"From the island over against the Ochori, Lord," croaked the man, dry-throated. "Two pigeons I sent, but these the hawks took—a fisherman saw one taken by the Kasai, and my own brother, who lives in the Village of Irons, saw the other go—though he flew swiftly."
Hamilton's grave face set rigidly, for he smelt trouble. You do not send pleasant news by pigeons.