"No! You can't escape, you hellion! Squat down and answer!" "All this stuff is pretty familiar," Will interrupted.

"In the States there are always people going the rounds among our darkies preaching some form of treason.

Over there we can afford to treat it as a joke--now and then an ugly one, and on the darkies!" "This is an ugly joke on a darkie, too!" grinned Fred.
The Baganda made a sudden dive and a determined struggle to get through the door, but our porters were too quick and strong for him.
"Confession is your one chance!" said Fred.
"Put hot irons to his feet!" advised Coutlass.

(The native beer had left him villainously evil-tempered.) "Gassharamminy! Leave me alone with that fat Baganda for half an hour, and I will make him tell me what is on the far side of the moon, as well as what his mother said and did before she bore him!" "Shall I hand you over to this Greek gentleman ?" suggested Fred.
"Oh, my God, no!" the Baganda answered, trembling.

"Hand me over to the bwana collector! He will put me in jail.