Bones saw the horror and braced himself to meet it.
"O Sandi!" cried M'fosa, "O planter of ju-ju, come quickly!"
"Dog!"
M'fosa whipped round, the knife dropping from his hand.
He knew the voice, was paralysed by the concentrated malignity in the voice.
There stood Sandi—not half a dozen paces from him.
A Sandi in strange black clothing with a big white-breasted shirt ... but Sandi, hard-eyed and threatening.
"Lord, lord!" he stammered, and put up his hands to his eyes.
He looked again—the figure had vanished.