boy handy, Foster?
I want to send a note quick to Orwell."

On a half-sheet of notepaper he wrote hurriedly--laconically--

"Farm attacked by Matabele, and blown up. Peters, Ancram, and self
escaped--have just come in. Went to warn Tewson, found whole family
massacred. Saw impi this morning, heading as though towards Kezane
Store. Warn Isard, and take precautions.

"Lamont."

This he folded and addressed to the Resident Magistrate, and the boy was
started off at once.

"I've a bit of good news for you, Mr Lamont," said Foster, as the
latter returned--tubbed, and to that extent refreshed--to begin upon the
much needed food. "That _rooi-schimmel_ horse you left with Greene the
day you were in for the race meeting--well, he's all right again now.
Greene brought him in couple of days back, and there isn't an atom of
lameness about him."

"That's good news indeed, for it strikes me there's plenty of work
sticking out for him."

They had just finished breakfast, and were enjoying the luxury of an
excellent cigar when Orwell arrived. He was in a great state of
excitement, and glanced meaningly in the direction of Foster, but this
the hotel-keeper pretended not to see. He was all on thorns to hear the
news himself, for that news there was--great and grave--he felt sure.

"Is this a fact, Lamont?" began Orwell, producing the slip of paper.
"Good Lord, man, but the whole country must be in a blaze!"

"So it must. By the way, Orwell, of course you've got that laager all
fixed up by this time."

"Er, well--no--the fact is we have been planning it out, and--er--"

"You haven't got it up yet? Well, if you'll take my advice you'll set
about it at once. It isn't a case of `another of Lamont's scares' this
time," he added, with somewhat excusable bitterness. "By the way,
Foster, you might bring us another bottle of the same. Oh, and you'll
join us again."

"Thanks. But, Mr Lamont, for God's sake, say what _has_ happened. We
are a trifle interested too, as well as our officials, and I, for one,
have got a wife and family into the bargain."

The hotel-keeper was a very good fellow, and he and Lamont liked each
other. Said the latter--

"Quite right, Foster. Fetch the liquid first and then you shall hear
all about it. It's time everyone knew, but I don't want to create a
panic. One of `Lamont's scares.'"

Orwell looked rather foolish.

"Oh, don't keep harping on that, old chap," he said. "W