"Right? Of course I'm right," continued Lightbody, unaware of his friend's critical contemplation. "Haven't I worked out every foot of it?"
"A bit of a flyer in the game country, then? Topple over a rhino or so. Stunning, smart sport, the rhino!"
"By George, think of it—a chance at one of the brutes!"
When De Gollyer had seen the eagerness in his friend's eyes, the imps returned, ironically tumbling back. He slapped him on the shoulder as Mephistopheles might gleefully claim his own, crying, "Immense!"
"You know, Jim," said Lightbody, straightening up, nervously alert, speaking in quick, eager accents, "it's what I've dreamed of—a chance at one of the big beggars. By George, I have, all my life!"
"We'll polish it off in ripping style, regiments of porters, red and white tents, camels, caravans and all that sort of thing."
"By George, just think of it."
"In style, my boy—we'll own the whole continent, buy it up!"
"The devil!"
"What's the matter?"