None of the relations who squatted or sat about the room denied this. Indeed, there was a murmur of applause, not unmixed, however, with suspicion, which was voiced by one Lakiro, popularly supposed to be learned in the law.
"All this is fine talk, Siskolo," he said; "yet how shall we know in what proportion our dear relation Bosambo will desire to distribute his wealth amongst those of us who love him?"
This time the applause was unmistakable.
Mr. Siskolo said haughtily: "After I have received treasure from my dear brother Bosambo—my own brother, related to me in blood, as you will all understand, and no cousin, as you are—after this brother of mine, whom I have loved so dearly and for so long, has given me of his treasure, I will take my half, and the other half I will distribute evenly among you."
Lakiro assumed his most judicial air.
"It seems to me," he said, "that as we are all blood relations, and have brought money for this journey which you make, Siskolo, and you yourself, so far as I know, are not finding so much as a dollar, our dear friend and relative Bosambo would be better pleased if his great gifts were distributed equally, though perhaps"—and he eyed the back-country brethren who had assembled, and who were listening uncomprehendingly to a conversation which was half in English and half in Monrovian—"it would be better to give less to those who have no need of money, or less need than we who have acquired by our high education, expensive and luxurious tastes, such as champagne, wine and other noble foods."
For two days and the greater part of two nights the relations of Bosambo argued over the distribution of the booty which they so confidently anticipated. At the end of a fortnight Siskolo departed from Liberia on a coasting steamer, and in the course of time he arrived at Sanders's headquarters.
Now it may be said that the civilised native—the native of the frock coat and the top hat—was Mr. Commissioner Sanders's pet abomination. He also loathed all native men who spoke English—however badly they spake it—with the sole exception of Bosambo himself, whose stock was exhausted within fifty words. Yet he listened patiently as Siskolo unfolded his plan, and with the development of the scheme something like a holy joy took its place in Sanders's soul.
He even smiled graciously upon this black man.
"Go you, Siskolo," he said gently. "I will send a canoe to carry you to your brother. It is true, as you say, that he is a great chief, though how rich he may be I have no means of knowing. I have not your wonderful eyes."