"Chief," said he, "this matter ends here. Release those men or you die very soon."
Ofesi laughed.
"Too late, lord Fisi," he said, and nodded his head.
One shot rang out from the crowd—a man, skilled in the use of arms, had waited for the gun-runner's appearance. Bannister Fish, of Highgate Hill, pitched forward dead.
"Now," said Ofesi.
Ahmed Ali came through the crowd like a cyclone, but quicker far was the two-pound shell of a Hotchkiss gun. Looking upward into the moonlit vault of the sky, Jim saw a momentary flash of light, heard the "pang!" of the gun and the whine of the shell as it curved downward; heard a roar louder than any, and was struck senseless by the sharp edge of an exploded cartridge-box.
* * * * *
"Ofesi," said Sanders, "I think this is your end."
"Lord, I think so too," said Ofesi.
Sanders let him hang for two hours before he cut him down.