Who cares about that? "But what are you going to say to him when you arrest him ? "

"Leave that to me, my lad. I've never been stuck for words yet!"

Finally I let the thing go. R. was obviously determined to have a shot at arresting the Greek, legally or illegally, and, after all, if it amused him to be a policeman-why not? "Live and let live" has always been my motto in life.

Followed a hectic period of three or four months for R. He thoroughly investigated every rumour and clue that came to our ears about the Greek, but he soon found that he was up against the same trouble that the three posses of police had been up against -lack of native information. This puzzled us completely for a long time, until we discovered that the Greek was, or had been, supplying the natives with alcohol (gin!) in return for their silence as to his whereabouts. Gradually the ardour of the amateur policeman abated. At first he had persisted in wearing his old [Sam Browne when "on duty,' on duty," but after two or three months he began to leave it off. His nightmare was lest he should see the Greek in the bush one day, and not be wearing his Sam Browne or not have the warrant with him. However, as things fell out he never did see the Greek, and as I say,

suit.

Then came the final blow.

We were up beyond the Great Bend of the Rovuma, towards the lake, after elephants. The rains were very near and we were hurrying back to camp as fast as we could make it, when outside the village of Tagora we came on a hot spoor. It looked like a big tusker so we followed, and after about four hours came up with a lone bull carrying somewhere about eighty pound tusks. We toppled it over without much trouble, and as we had plenty of boys with us decided to leave four behind to get out the tusks, and to follow us on to camp as soon as they could. We were about ninety miles at this time from Siwezi, and we reckoned that the boys should not be longer than seven days.

We made camp in four days, and were astounded when we heard the shouts of boys coming from across the river late on the fifth night.

"Who's that?" I shouted to Selimani.

"It is Swalayo, master," he answered, "and there is big trouble out there."

Now Swalayo was the name of the boy I had left in charge of the ivory, and though we conjectured many things as the canoe came slowly across the river, we never had an inkling of the real truth. Presently the canoe landed, and in the light of the hurricane

3

that he will rush to the nearest store to sell it. If he gets there before us, he'll get the money for it, because you can't prove ownership of ivory.

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That's so," I agreed, "and as far as I can see we can't possibly beat him to the store,

The ivory stolen, master," he repeated.

"Who stole it?" I managed to get out.

A white man! and as he spoke, I knew it was the unspeakable Greek.

For a moment we stood and stared at the boy. It was no use cursing him. Oh! for one short minute with the Greek. R. wandered round the room, bereft of words. It was unspeakable. There had been a streak of humour in our dealings with the fellow up to date, but this outrage was beyond anything.

"Oh, the swine! The dirty blackguard!" ejaculated R. at last, finding his tongue. "By heaven! it would give me pleasure to shoot him."

"That's no good," said I. "What we want is our ivory." "Exactly-and how do you propose getting it?"

We were far too upset to think of anything at the moment, so we dismissed the boy and sat down to a cup of tea.

He's taken that ivory because he wants money," "said R. some time later, thoughtfully. "It seems clear to me

make for M'kondo. nearest I know of."

That's the

R. rose to fetch our map.

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Here's where we shot the elephant," he said, putting his finger on a spot south of the Great Bend. "Here is M'kondo. I suppose he would do thirty miles a day, and it's onetwo three four five six-seven, say six and a half days, and he has three days' start. No, we can't possibly do it. You see, we are a shade nearer M'kondo from this camp, but even so, we couldn't arrive there under four and a half days, and that is reckoning forty miles a day."

"No. It's impossible, but we can't afford to lose two tusks like that.'

"We won't lose them," said R. determinedly. "Not if we have to take them from the store. After all, they are ours."

For a while we thought the question out. As far as one could humanly see, there was going to be trouble-and plenty of it-whichever way things happened, because of one thing we were both agreed-we were not going to lose the ivory! The next point to consider was the journey to M'kondo, and the sooner we got there the better. It was towards the

end of the month, and the moon was rising about 3.30 A.M., we reckoned. By this time it was already eleven do'clock, and, as the trail was fairly clear, we decided to start I away with the moon. Selimani was informed of our plans, and the safari ordered for three o'clock. Rations were served out on the spot, and everything being ready, we lay down to snatch a couple of hours' sleep.

Promptly at 3.45 A.M. we left camp, and by dawn had covered a good eight miles. We had a big safari, numbering thirty-one boys, but each boy's load weighed but a few pounds, as speed was the main consideration. By nightfall we had covered thirty-eight miles. The next day was much heavier going, and though we went on until dark, we only covered, we estimated, thirty-one miles. That night we were very tired. The rains were on the top of us, and the weather was hot and steamy. The hot trail had burnt the boys' feet, and several of them were limping badly. We were away before dawn the next morning, but try how we would we could not do more than thirty miles. Fortunately that thirty miles carried us into a village where we succeeded in replacing the lamest of the boys. There was no news whatever of the Greek.

By giving the heaviest loads to the fresh boys, we were able to accomplish thirty-six miles that day, which brought us

within forty-one miles of M'kondo, according to our own reckoning. The next morning we set out at half-past three in a firm endeavour to do the complete distance. By noon we had covered twenty-five miles, but while we were snatching a hasty lunch, the first rain fell. This delayed us a considerable time, as the trail was very clayey and difficult to walk on. By nightfall we had still eight miles to go, but such was our anxiety that, taking our three hurricane lamps, Selimani and the cook, we left the boys to camp and pushed on alone to M'kondo.

It was ten o'clock when we arrived there, and going straight to the store, we inquired if any ivory had been brought in.

"None since you sent your last lot through," answered the boy promptly, and we could have danced a jig on the spot, despite our weary legs.

Hardly had we finished congratulating ourselves when the Portuguese proprietor arrived. To him we hastily explained the situation, and as the glorious Greek had stolen a rifle of his or, at least, had borrowed it and omitted to return same-he was as anxious to meet the gentleman as we were. He managed to put us up for the night, pending the arrival of our boys on the morrow, and early next morning we went to the administrator, who was by way of being a friend of ours, and charged the Greek with rob