No use blowing about it down at Buckomari--the fellows there haven't the nerve of a kitten.

This cursed climate has sapped it all out of them, I reckon.

Monty and I clubbed together and bought presents for his Majesty, the boss here, and Monty wrote out this little document--sort of concession to us to sink mines and work them, you see.
The old buffer signed it like winking, directly he spotted the rum, but we ain't quite happy about it; you see, it ain't to be supposed that he's got a conscience, and there's only us saw him put his mark there.
We'll have to raise money to work the thing upon this, and maybe there'll be difficulties.

So what we thought was this.

Here's an English officer coming; let's get him to witness it, and then if the King don't go on the square, why, it's a Government matter." Captain Francis lit a cigarette and smoked thoughtfully for a moment or two.
"I don't quite see," he said, "why we should risk a row for the sake of you two." Trent snorted.
"Look here," he said; "I suppose you know your business.