cess to the bandolier beneath, while a dozen
shots from an upper window had driven them from the dooryard into
the comparative shelter of the lower rooms. The skirmish had ended
with a charge up the stairway. Weldon, that same night, had written
to Ethel a wholly humorous account of the whole affair, and it was
not until long afterwards that she had learned from Carew, who had
been of the party, which was the trooper who had mounted guard over
the room where the aged grandmother had tucked herself away under
her bed. The old Dutch vrouw had bidden him to share her shelter;
but he had taken note of her dimensions, and had declined her
hospitality. Later on, when the fight was over and she had painfully
wriggled her way out from her trap, he had also declined certain of
her manifestations of gratitude. Even chivalry to the aged possesses
its humorous side.

Then, one November night, Weldon came into his tent with alert step
and glowing eyes. He found Carew going through his camp outfit in
detail, and, squatting on the floor in the corner, Kruger Bobs was
cleaning accoutrements as if his life depended on it.

"You look as if events were about to happen," he observed, from the
dispassionate distance of the doorway.

"They are."

"Ask them to include me, then."

"What do you need of events, you regimental broncho-buster?"

"One gets sick of even the best horseflesh in time," he answered
nonchalantly.

"Sorry, for you are doomed to more of it."

"Another herd of bronchos?" Weldon's voice showed that the idea
displeased him.

"No; but a two-hundred-mile trek across country."

"Good. I am tired of being cooped up, and a spin of that kind will
be a boon."

Carew settled back on his heels and looked up at him.

"Spin is it! Your only spin will be on your own axis. We are to act
as escort for a convoy train of fifty wagons and ten times fifty
mules. We shall make six miles a day, and our tongues will be wholly
corrupted by the language of the mule-drivers. And, in the end, we
shall get to--"

"A glorious fight, I trust," Weldon supplemented.

Gloomily Carew shook his head. "No; merely to Winburg. We are going
to provision Weppener and Ladybrand, and then make for the railroad
again. We'll strike it at Winburg most likely. It is an unholy sort
of hole, and I hear that the hotel serves watered ink and currant
jelly under the name of claret. We shall sit there and sip it, until
the train arrives, and then we shall