never could like, but whose worst faults were being a cringing kind of
bore and a perfect nuisance with his flute."

"And I as a smooth hypocrite whom one ought not to trust," said
Ingleborough.

"And now he's gone, and we're to have the Boers at us and most likely
have to soldier in real earnest. Hallo! Here's Norton back again."

For there was a quick step outside, and the door was thrown open. But
it was not the superintendent's face that met their eyes, for their late
fellow-clerk stepped boldly in.

"How are you, gentlemen?" he said, with a strong emphasis upon the last
word. "So I've got the sack; but I'm not going to leave my property
behind."

He stepped to his desk and took out his flute-case, tucked it under his
arm, and then drew the sword-cane and umbrella from the stand, giving
the pair a maliciously triumphant look.

"Can't afford to leave the sword-stick as a memento for you, Ingle, nor
the flute for sneaky West. Goodbye, both of you. Look out for our next
merry meeting. Ta, ta!"

Neither of the young men replied, but sat gazing fixedly at the speaker
till he passed out, banging the door.

But only to open it again to look in and utter the one word: "Cads!"

Then the door was banged, and West leaped from his stool and made a
dash.

"Stop, stupid!" thundered out Ingleborough, supplementing his words by a
bound and flinging his arm round his companion's chest. "Let the brute
go. You don't want to kick him?"

"But I do," shouted West, struggling. "Let go."

"Keep still," growled Ingleborough, and then, "Why, Noll," he cried, "I
do believe--"

"What?" said West, cooling down and looking wonderingly in his
companion's excited eyes, for Ingleborough had stopped short.

"That flute--that sword-cane--"

"Well, he has got them. Bah! I'm glad you stopped me from punching his
head. Let him have them; they're his."

"Yes," said Ingleborough; "but the handle of the cane and the top joint
of the flute. There was room for a dozen big diamonds in each."

"What! Then let's go and stop him!"

"Yes; we could but be wrong. Come on."

"Hah! Listen," cried West, and a sound arose which turned their
thoughts in a different channel, for it was like the first note of the
coming war.

The trumpet rang out the "assemblee" and thrilled both through and
through, sending them to the arm-press for rifle and bandolier.

Clerking was over for many months to come. The pen was to give way to
t