and. Clare Vidal read that look,
and was perchance satisfied; anyhow she regarded him--grimy, unshaven,
fierce-eyed--with an admiration she had never felt for any living man.
The `coward'! she said to herself--the man whom her brother-in-law and
others had described as a funkstick.

"See here, Lamont," now sung out Fullerton. "I'm going to get on one of
those police horses and help in this racket. I'm dead sick of sitting
here."

For two of the horses of the fallen troopers had been brought on and
were being led by the survivors.

"All right. There'll be no harm in that. Miss Vidal, you'd better get
into the back of the waggon and let down the sail. We haven't done with
the enemy yet--and you won't be such a conspicuous mark when he comes on
again."

For a moment Clare was about to object. But she said--

"Do you really wish me to?"

"Certainly I do."

Then she complied without another word.

"Cheer up, Lucy, we are safe now," she said to her sister. "Mr Lamont
has come up just in the nick of time."

"The nick of time indeed," was the shuddering answer. "If he hadn't we
should have been dead by now." And she shivered again.

"A miss is as good as a mile, Mrs Fullerton," said Wyndham cheerily.
"That was a near thing, but our time hasn't come yet. Gee-yup!"

He had managed to knock a sort of jaded amble out of the dispirited
mules. The relieving force, divided into two, was advancing through the
bush and long grass on either side of the waggon--in open skirmishing
order: Peters, by tacit consent, being in virtual command of one. Every
man was keenly on the alert, and the faintest movement in the grass or
bush would bring rifle or pistol to the ready.

"Lamont," said Fullerton gravely, as they thus moved forward, "I don't
want to go through such another experience. That's the very closest
thing I've ever been in or ever expect to be. It'd have been bad
enough, but the consciousness that the wife and Clare were in for it
too--eugh! it was awful! And _you_ got us out."

Lamont frowned.

"You'll excuse my saying so, Fullerton, but how you could be such a
bedevilled idiot as to start across country at this time of day, with
two helpless women and a handful of police, bangs me I own."

"Helpless women!" echoed Fullerton. "Not much of the `helpless' woman
about Clare, I can tell you. Why, she accounted for more niggers than I
did, with that pistol you gave her. But why didn't you warn us if