Isobel and Cliff crowded up, the one to kiss Kenny happily, the other to pound him on the back.
Homer made introductions to Dave Moroka and the Peters brothers.
"I've told you about Kenny," he wound it up. "I sent him over to the west to raise a harka of Nemadi to help in taking Tamanrasset." He joined Cliff Jackson in giving the smaller man an affectionate blow on the shoulder. "What luck did you have, Kenny?"
Kenny Ballalou rubbed himself ruefully. "If you two will stop beating, I'll tell you. I didn't recruit a single Nemadi."
Homer Crawford looked at him.
Kenny said to the tent at large. "Anybody got a drink around here? Good grief, have I been covering ground."
Isobel bustled off to a corner where she'd amassed most of their remaining European type supplies, but she kept her attention on him.
Dave Moroka said, his voice unbelieving, "You mean you haven't brought any assistance at all?"
Kenny grinned around at them. "I didn't say that. I said I didn't recruit any of the Nemadi. I never even got as far as their territory."
Homer Crawford sank back onto the small crate he'd been using as a chair before Kenny's precipitate entrance. "O.K.," he said, "stop dramatizing and let us know what happened."