let. Then both he and the gray broncho pricked up their ears
as, close on their flank, they heard the beating of galloping hoofs.

In the shock of the scrimmage that followed, there was scant time to
take thought of friend or of foe. On the heels of his new captain
as, of old, he had been on the heels of Captain Frazer, Weldon and
the gray broncho were in the thick of the fight. Then, as the Boers
sullenly fell backwards, Weldon became aware of a familiar voice in
his ears.

"Whisht, little feller! It's Paddy," the voice said in a spooky
undertone, as its owner ranged up alongside the gray broncho.

"Paddy!" Weldon stared at him in unfeigned astonishment. "What in
the name of heaven are you doing here, man?"

With perfect composure Paddy squared himself in the saddle.

"Little Canuck dear, as I told you before, heaven is a state of
eternal peace, and therefore an undesirable abode in these hot
times. I prefer a whiff of brimstone, myself; and, by the powers,
I've been getting, it." As he spoke, he took off his hat and showed
a neat trio of holes in the left brim.

"But how did you come here, Paddy?" Weldon asked again.

"Took your advice to heart, my jewel, kicked over my pan of fat and
jumped into the fire. Which, being put into straight English, I
swiped a horse and rode off with the rest of the boys on the tail of
the serpent." Weldon gasped, as he realized the enormity of the
crime. Then he laughed. In his haste to gain possession of a mount,
Paddy had taken no thought for his armament. His sole weapon was the
huge iron spoon, still grasped in his left hand.

"Whose horse did you take, Paddy?"

"I d'know. I never looked to see. I popped my toe into the stirrup
and came away, hot-foot; but," Paddy paused for a deliberate wink;
"as I was leaving camp, I thought I heard the voice of that pigeon-toed
little cockney Parrott, him that used to stub his toes on the
wall at Piquetberg Road, acalling out that some one had mislaid his
horse and he couldn't find it. I was sorry; but I was in a divil of
a haste and couldn't stop to condole with him then."

"But, Paddy, they'll run you out of camp for this," Weldon
remonstrated dutifully.

Paddy's shoulder mounted towards his left ear. "I'm thinking I have
run myself out, and that's just what I was meaning to do. I've been
a captain with four lieutenants under me. Any one of them can sling
the pepper and the salt, and they're welcome; but not one has the
fighting bl