"I stood still and watched them for a minute, and then there was a sudden lull in the uproar, and I heard my old uncle's voice for the first time. There he was, the dear old chap, perched on a pile of ammunition-boxes, and the language he was using was evidently so warm that it was a wonder the whole show didn't blow up. I could only make out a word here and there, most of it was double Dutch to me; but whatever it was, it made those poor black fellows bustle for all they were worth. Then in the middle of his address the old boy suddenly caught sight of my unlucky self. You should have seen the expression on his face! He stopped as if a live shell had pitched into the shed; and--well, what happened then must keep till our next meeting. I could never do justice to the interview in a letter."
To say that Major John Burnaby was surprised at the sudden appearance of his nephew in Kisumu only feebly expresses his state of mind. After a few seconds of speechlessness, his feelings found vent in the deliberate exclamation:
Tom stood in front of him, looking very warm. There was another embarrassing silence.
"What do you mean by this?" were the major's next words.
"Oh well, you know what I mean! I saw in the papers that a column was going up to catch the beggars who killed Captain Boyes, and that you had got the job. 'Uncle Jack,' I thought, 'has got his chance at last, and I'm going to be there.' And here I am!"
"I see you are! And you mean to say you have left your work, thrown it all up, ruined your career, to come on a wild-goose chase like this? You'll go home by the next boat, sir."
"Don't say that, Uncle. I know it's sudden, but you see there was no time to lose. I couldn't write; I should never have got your answer in time; and you surely couldn't expect me to stop in a grimy engineering shop on the Clyde when my only uncle had got his chance at last! I must see it through with you, Uncle Jack."
"Must! must!" repeated the major. "Tom, I'm surprised at you--and annoyed, sir--seriously annoyed at your folly. The absurdity of it all! You can't join the expedition. It's against the regulations, for one thing; this is a soldier's job, and civilians would only be in the way. Besides, you're not seasoned; the climate would bowl you over in no time, and you're too young to peg out comfortably. What's more, you'd be no earthly use. Oh! I can't argue it with you," pursued the major, as Tom was about to protest; "you're demoralizing my men. Cut off to my bungalow, and keep out of mischief till I have done with them. Then I shall have something to say to you."