dn't see--that there were some
of those Boer beggars just under our kopje, and that one of them had
raised his rifle to pick off Bullfrog. So I made a flying leap on to
his back and knocked him flat, and the bullet that was meant for him
just crossed the back of my coat and ripped it up. Didn't even scratch
me!"

The little knot of listeners around Martin waited with bated breath for
more.

"But he didn't escape scot-free after all," continued Martin. "Ten
minutes after that he got shot in the leg. The bone was fractured, and
he couldn't move. I saw him fall and I pulled him to a little hollow
under a stone where he'd be safe. And it was just as well, for the
cavalry came up over there when the chase began. We gave them the
licking they deserved that day. But you know all about that."

"Wish I'd been you!" said Martin's old schoolfellow very enviously.
"But what about Bullfrog after that?"

"He was taken in the ambulance-cart and put in hospital. I saw him
there and he was getting on all right."

"And what did he say?"

"He said I'd caught him out again and a lot more. But it was all
nonsense, you know."

"I expect he was sorry he'd ever made it hot for you," said one of the
listeners.

"You ought to have a VC or something for it, _I_ consider," said
another.

"Rot!" answered Martin. "If a schoolfellow and a shipmate of yours
wanted a push out of danger, wouldn't you give it him? And you wouldn't
think yourself a hero either!"

"Other people might, though," answered Martin's old schoolfellow.

CHAPTER TWO.

TWO ROUGH STONES, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.

It does not take long to make a kite, if you know how, have the right
things for the purpose, and Cook is in a good temper. But then, cooks
are not always amiable, and that's a puzzle; for disagreeable people are
generally yellow and stringy, while pleasant folk are pink-and-white and
plump, and Mrs Lester's Cook at "Lombardy" was extremely plump, so much
so that Ned Lester used to laugh at her and say she was fat, whereupon
Cook retorted by saying good-humouredly: "All right, Master Ned, so I
am; but you can't have too much of a good thing."

There was doubt about the matter, though. Cook had a most fiery temper
when she was busy, and when that morning Ned went with Tizzy--so called
because she was christened Lizzie--and found Cook in her private
premises--the back kitchen--peeling onions, with a piece of bread stuck
at the end of the