"But you are charged," said the magistrate, "with carrying an unregistered rifle, and shooting without a license."
For answer I produced my certificate of registration and the big game license we had paid for in Mombasa.
"Why didn't you say so before?" demanded the magistrate.
"I wasn't asked," said I.
"Case dismissed!" snapped his honor, and the court began to empty.
"Don't let it stop there!" urged Will excitedly. "That Heinie and his boys have all committed perjury; charge them with it!"
I turned to the police officer.
"I charge all those witnesses with perjury!" I said.
"Oh," he laughed, "you can't charge natives with that. If the law against perjury was strictly enforced the jails wouldn't hold a fiftieth of them! They don't understand."
"But that blackguard with a beard—that rascal Schillingschen understands!" said I. "Arrest him! Charge him with it!"