Bones sat up.
"Shall I have to make a speech?" he asked cautiously.
"You may have to respond for the ladies," said Hamilton. "No, my dear chap, all you will have to do will be to sit round and look clever."
Bones thought awhile.
"I'll bet you're putting me on to a rotten job," he accused, "but I'll go."
"I wish you would," said Hamilton, seriously. "I can't get the hang of M'fosa's mind, ever since you treated him with such leniency."
"If you're goin' to dig up the grisly past, dear old sir," said a reproachful Bones, "if you insist recalling events which I hoped, sir, were hidden in oblivion, I'm going to bed."
He got up, this lank youth, fixed his eyeglass firmly and glared at his superior.
"Sit down and shut up," said Hamilton, testily; "I'm not blaming you. And I'm not blaming N'gori. It's that son of his—listen to this."
He beckoned the three men who had come down from the Akasava as bearers of the invitation.