"None."
"Why don't you pass me that whip when I ask for it?" demanded Fred.
"None! None! None, bwana! I am the only man in this direction! He has sent them north, south, east and west, but I am the only one down here."
"He has a lot more to tell yet," said Coutlass. "Let me put hot irons on his feet!"
Fred demurred. "He couldn't march with us if we did that!" he said with a perfectly straight face.
"Who cares whether or not he marches!" answered Coutlass. "To tell all he knows is his business! Wait while I heat the iron!"
The Baganda began to scream again, babbling that he knew no more. He assured us that Schillingschen had set the closest watch along the old caravan route, and toward his own rear in the direction of Kisumu, whence officials might come on chance errands.
"All right," said Fred. "Truss him up tight and keep him prisoner among our men in their hut."
"Our men are likely to get drunk tonight," warned Will.
"Let me watch him!" urged Coutlass. "Leave me with him alone!"