Men in the secret service of Sanders, and the Government also, made it, and Sanders nodded his head.
Here came a man in haste to tell him things.
A long pause and "Whoo-woo!" drearily, plaintively, and nearer. The man was whooing then at a jog-trot, and they on the bank were waiting——
"Fire!" cried Sanders sharply.
Six rifles crashed like a thunderclap, there was a staccato flick-flack as the bullets struck the leaves, and two screams of anguish.
Out of the bush blundered a dark figure, looked about dazed and uncertain, saw the Zaire and raised his hand.
Bang!
A bullet smacked viciously past Sanders's head.
"Guns!" said Sanders with a gasp, and as the man on the bank rattled back the lever of his repeater, Sanders shot him.
"Bang! bang!"