was streaked with coal-dust, abject fear glittered in his eyes; he braced himself like a goat on the edge of a cliff, and gesticulated wildly. But the Gippies thrust him on the platform overhanging the sea; and there was nothing for him but to get on the barge. Sergeant Danny checked off another hide-away. "That leaves two," he remarked, and catching the Colonel's inquiring eye, he explained, "They try to hide, and get out of the fumigation. Can't keep these Russians clean," nodding towards a muck-heap of men and women on the barge.
"Must be a pretty hard job," assented the Colonel.
Sergeant Danny laughed: "Says Pharaoh to the sergeant, 'You go an' keep 'em clean.'"
All this time Gregory Lykoff leaned carelessly against the stair-rail in the smoking-room. Nothing had been discovered on his person or in his baggage, and he supposed that Gargarin meant to let him go ashore. Now he could look below, and out of either door. Not a muscle of his face suggested his intense anxiety to know where the black man had disappeared.
The Dutch Doctor began stammering over another name which sounded like "Zack Foster." Colonel Spottiswoode hurried inside, and found the Doctor's pudgy finger pointing to Old Reliable's name.
