ncentive to the undertaking, I
thought.

"Dumela spoored them easily to Sand Drift," went on Brian, "and then it
got too dark. If the old fool had come straight back at once and told
us, we should have saved several hours; but not he. One of Stoffel
Pexter's people told him they'd seen three mounted Kafirs and two on
foot go through just above the drift with a span of large _bonte_ oxen.
So we'd better go straight there and start on the spoor from there. One
thing, we can't miss it. It's as broad as a waggon road."

"Think they'll show fight if we come up with them, Brian?" I said.

"Don't know. We'll take our guns in case of accidents. John Kafir has
more respect for an armed crowd than for an unarmed one. Now--if you
fellows are ready, we'll lose no time getting under way. They are
bringing up the horses now," as a trampling was heard without. "Put a
few extra cartridges in your pocket, Holt, while I find a shooter for
Trask."

I came out on the stoep and--from another door so did Beryl.

"It's too bad to rout you out of bed to start off like this on a
midnight foray," she said.

The other two were inside, presumably arming. The fresh cool breaths of
the midnight veldt, the circumstance of our projected undertaking, the
knowledge that I was in a way rendering personal service to her who
stood there, lent a curious dash of excitement and romance to the
situation. The air was sharp, and the wrapper which she had thrown over
her head framed and set forth the calm sweet face, and the lustrous eyes
seemed to take on a softer expression in the starlight. I believe I
nearly made a fool of myself then and there.

"Too bad?" I echoed. "Why, I would not have missed this for anything;
especially as it holds out the additional attraction of being able to do
something for you in particular."

She looked puzzled. "For me in particular," she repeated wonderingly.
Then with the flash of a smile, "No, I give it up. Explain."

"To recover your horse."

"Who, Meerkat? Have they stolen him, then? Brian--" as the other two
now reappeared, "you never told me that Meerkat was one of the horses
that are gone."

"Oh, hang it! I've let the cat out of the bag," I said disgustedly. "I
ought to kick myself."

"Don't do that. Bring back Meerkat instead," said Beryl, in her sweet,
even way.

Of course I pledged myself to do so or die in the attempt, and all the
rest of it--but my protestations were ruthlessly