a silk dress to a grindstone.
It was an extremely full, prosperous-looking store, and in the midst of
it were to be seen, sitting on the counters, James and Robert Skyd, both
looking bluffer and stronger than when we last met them, though scarcely
a day older. James and Robert were the managing partners of this
prosperous firm; Dobson and John Skyd were what the latter styled the
hunting partners. Robert Skyd had recently married a pretty Grahamstown
girl, and her little boy--then about one year old--was, so said his
father, the sleeping partner of the firm, who had been vaguely hinted at
by the "Company" long before he was born. Indeed, the "Company" had
been prudently inserted with special reference to what might "turn up"
in after years. At the time the firm was formed, it had been suggested
that it should be styled Dobson, Skyd, and Sons, but as it was possible
nothing but daughters might fall to the lot of any of them, "Company"
was substituted as being conveniently indefinite. Dobson took
precedence in the title in virtue of his having brought most capital
into the firm. He had invested his all in it--amounting to three pounds
four and nine-pence halfpenny. John Skyd had contributed half-a-crown,
which happened to be a bad one. James brought nothing at all, and
Robert entered it a little in debt for tobacco.

The great waggon of the hunting partners, loaded with hides, horns, and
ivory, stood at the door of the store, as Gertie and her protectors
passed, having just arrived from a successful trip into Kafirland, and
fortunately escaped the outbreak of the war.

Fastening their bridles to one of its wheels, Hans, Gertie, and
Considine entered. The first face they saw was that of Edwin Brook,
into whose arms Gertie ran with a wild cry of joy.

"Why, Hans Marais!" cried James Skyd, jumping off the counter and
grasping his big friend by the hand, while Robert seized that of
Considine, "where have you dropped from?--But I need scarcely ask, for
all the world seems to be crowding into the town. Not hurt, I hope?" he
added, observing the blood which stained his friend's dress.

"Not in person," answered Hans, with a smile, returning his cordial
grasp.

"And what of property!" asked Edwin Brook, looking round.

"All gone," returned Hans sadly. "I rose this morning a reasonably
wealthy man--now, I am a beggar. But tell me, what of your family, Mr
Brook?"

"All saved, thank God," was the reply. "Junkie