"Boys, they're our meat! There's a tree to hang the Greeks and the Goa to! When we've done that, if you'll all come back with me I'll send to Nairobi for an extra jar of Irish whisky, and we'll have a spree at Lumbwa that'll make the fall of Rome sound like a Sunday-school picnic! We're in German territory now, all right.

There's not a white man for a hundred miles in any direction--except your friend that's coming along behind.

There's nobody to carry tales or prevent! I'm no savage.

I'm no degenerate.
I don't hold with too much of anything, but--" "There'll be no dirty work, if that's what you mean," said Will quietly.
Brown stared hard at him.
"D'you mean you'll object to hanging 'em ?" "Not in the least.

We hang or shoot cattle thieves in the States.