ood in his veins as I have. Let them mind their kettles
and leave me to mind the enemy."

"And if they won't let you go back?"

"Then I'll ship myself straight down to Cape Town, and take service
with Captain Frazer. He can fight with the best of them, and he
knows I'm a man. It's riding at his heels I'll be, henceforth and
forevermore."

Turning, Weldon looked long into the jovial Irish face, and at the
hunchy figure that joggled to and fro in the saddle, with no heed to
the rhythm of his horse's pace.

"Who taught you to ride, Paddy?" he asked at length.

For an instant, a lump in Paddy's left cheek betrayed the
whereabouts of his tongue. Then quietly he made answer, "Sure,
little feller, it must have been the grace of Saint Patrick. Nobody
else has ever took a hand in the training of me. But I'll back him
against all the riding masters in London and Aldershot."

And the result showed that Paddy's confidence was not misplaced.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

By midwinter, the war had become a series of guerrilla raids, of
sweeping drives and of occasional skirmishes. The epoch of the
infantry had passed, and it was the day of the mounted man. The
home-going of the great Field Marshal, six months before, had been
followed by the return to England of transports loaded with foot
soldiers. The hour, the country and the enemy all demanded the man
on the horse. With Lord Kitchener in the field and the colonies
aiding the mother country, the outcome was only a matter of time;
but few could as yet say when the fulness of that time should be at
hand.

"But it leaves me a good deal puzzled in my mind," Weldon said
thoughtfully.

"How do you mean?" Ethel Dent threw the question at him a little
defiantly.

"About going home."

"Surely, you aren't going now?"

He winced at the accent.

"I am not sure. I volunteered for six months. My time is up; I paid
my official visit to the Citadel yesterday."

"Are you needed at home?"

"No. At least, not in any real sense."

"But you are needed here."

"There are enough without me, and the need will not last long."

"Don't be too sure. On the Dunottar Castle, there were plenty of
people who laughed at you men for coming out to volunteer, after the
war was over. You have proved that they laughed at nothing. Prove it
again."

Rising, he walked the length of the room and stood looking out from
the long front window. The bamboo screens and the willow chairs were
gone from