"To be brief, Mr. Illingway tells of a wonderful golden image that
is worshiped by a tribe of Africans in a settlement not far from
Gumba Twamba, where he is stationed. It's an image of solid gold--"

"Solid gold!" interrupted Mr. Swift.

"Yes, dad, and about three feet high," went on Tom, referring to the
letter to make sure. "It's heavy, too, no hollows in it, and these
Africans regard it as a god. But that's not the strangest part of
it. Mr. Illingway goes on to say that there is no gold in that part
of Africa, and for a time he was at a loss how to account for the
golden image. He made some inquiries and learned that it was once
the property of a white traveler who made his home with the tribe
that now worships the image of gold. This traveler, whose name Mr.
Illingway could not find out, was much liked by the Africans. He
taught them many things, doctored them when they were sick, and they
finally adopted him into the tribe."

"It seems that he tried to make them better, and wanted them to
become Christians, but they clung to their own beliefs until he
died. Then, probably thinking to do his memory honor, they took the
golden image, which was among his possessions, and set it up as a
god."

"Bless my hymn book!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "What did they do that
for?"

"This white man thought a great deal of the image," said Tom, again
referring to the letter, "and the Africans very likely imagined
that, as he was so good to them, some of his virtues had passed into