door open, and as we knew that they
would have little mercy for Father, Tim and I hid him away in a cellar
down below, which he had constructed to keep stores and ammunition in.
Then we lowered the trap-door and placed the table over it.

"They broke in a few minutes later, but, failing to find him, thought he
had escaped through the window. Then they forced me to play my violin,
and just as I thought they would shoot Tim or myself, the leader fell
dead and the others ran for their lives."

"Well, you are safe for the present at least," answered Jack. "Sit down
there, Eileen, and rest yourself. We will get your father up again.
Those fellows will not be coming back yet awhile, so that we need not
fear a surprise. Now, Wilfred and Tim, lend a hand and pull up this
trap."

A minute later the table had been removed to one side, and Jack was
clambering down into the cellar, Tim lowering the lamp after him. On
the boarded floor he found Frank Russel lying upon his back, and making
feeble efforts to rise, for the reports of Jack's rifle had roused him
from unconsciousness.

"Where am I? What has happened?" he asked. "Hallo! is that you, Jack!
Where's Tom Salter?"

Then he suddenly remembered the Boers and sat up with a jerk.

"Ah! what has become of those brutes?" he demanded, clutching at the
rifle which had been placed beside him, while his face flushed red with
rage.

"Now don't worry about them," said Jack kindly. "They've bolted, and
Wilfred and I arrived here just in the nick of time. Let us get you up
on top and look at the wound. When that is seen to, we will discuss the
situation."

Frank Russel was still too much dazed to offer any resistance, and was
soon carried up the ladder and laid on a bed. Then Jack opened up the
seams of his jacket, and cut away the shirt over his left shoulder. A
close inspection showed two little blue wounds, the size of a pea, one
in front, and one behind where the Mauser bullet had made its exit.
There had been scarcely any loss of blood, and luckily no bones broken.
Eileen meanwhile had produced a basin of cold water and a soft towel,
and with this they dressed the wound and bandaged the shoulder. A stiff
glass of spirits pulled Frank Russel round, and now that he was over the
first shock, he very quickly became himself again, for he was as hard as
iron, and accustomed to the rough life of a colonist. Ten minutes later
he was standing up lighting a big pipe, and