Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-04-13

Drew Tended his face as best he could and held
back the branches for the boy after him.
'Mbaya sana Every bad)," breathed the boy
discOnSolately, surveying the scratches that
showed gray on his long, lean, black legs jut-
ting from the few inches Of ragged shorts that
were his trousers. A torn and sleeveless jersey
completed his costume.
He was . pastoral boy, knowing nothing
wilder than the herding fields Of Torc, and
already his spirit was satiated with the adj
venture Of elephant hunting. He sighed and
changed Drew's gun to another shoulder.
"Mbeya sana," he sighed again, hopeful Of q
cigarette.
AbSently, Drew merely nodded. His eyes,
mechanically intent on the way, held the inner
remoteneSs of his thought. They were deep
blue eyes, deep set in a spare, high boned face
the eyes Of soldier or an Ascetic-not at all
the eyes one would suspect Of meditating muir
der. Nothing, indeed, about the young man
indicated an assassin. He was more than
ordinarily fine looking, quiet hammered and wen
bred, although too lean and lantern awed for
actual good looks, perhaps, but with distinction
in his spare lines and clear-cut features He
was naturally q rather shy man and had the
aloof quality Of one who has lived much to
himself During the war he had been one Of
the youngest heutenantS having left the univer-
sity to enlist and after the war, as there was
gathered his meager resources and come out to
Africa to ranch. Uganda, at last, had given
him a measure Of success. But it would have
taken more than lack Of success to drive him
from Africa. There was no other place now in
the world where he could live he felt, where
he couldAfeel space about him and freedom Of
will, where mans qualities counted so truly.
He was thinking now Of that day when Peggy
had first gasped out her plight to him-that
a mat hoP cir and chokA HxayitkA
misery, flying blindly along the road at dusk,
while in the house behind her Sloane practieed
what he was pleased to call his discipline upon
his boy.
lies doing it TO hurt me-becauSe I-T-I-
made him angry!" the girl choked out her
face fame of shame and fury. And then she
had said things-not much but enough. Drew
had begged her to leave him. But she had
shaken her brown head stubbornly No. she
would never leave the boy. There was no way
Of getting him away from his father. The
law was all on his side. She had nothing that
law would cali case. No, she would Just have
to stay-and the gray eyes fixed in a strained,
desperate stare and the soft lips tensed into
bitter lne-she would have to stay and carry on.
Drew had an idea that Sloane suspected that
he knew how matters stood and was ironically
aware why Drew had so suddenly beStirred him
self to become more neighborly; why he rode
over so frequently on his motor bike; why he
got up so many little social affairs at his own
place. Those gatherings had all been made
for her to bring her in touch with the wives
Of some Of the officials and make some feminine
friends for her, but Sloane had often frustrated
him by staying away with her.
THE Tacker had halted now at some deep
prints in the mud He tested the warmth
of them with his hand and examined the marks
in the vicinity. The spoor was cold. In the