eral orders you to take up your position in
the kraal on the extreme right, and to hold it at any cost."

From his place at the Captain's side, Weldon glanced at the orderly,
then, turning, looked across the veldt to the four gray walls
surrounding the clump of trees a mile away. His hand tightened on
the curb, and he straightened in the saddle, as the Captain led the
way into the purgatory beyond, an orderly purgatory, but crossed
with leaden lines of shot and shell.

At such moments, the brain ceases to act coherently. When Weldon
came to himself, he was kneeling behind the old gray wall, revolver
in hand, firing full in the faces of the Boer horsemen, scarce
fifteen feet away. Carew, his right foot dangling, had been hustled
to the rear of the kraal where the gray broncho and her mates were
in comparative shelter.

"Weldon?"

He looked up in a half-dazed fashion. The wall of smoke was already
shutting down about the retreating Boers. Beside him stood the
Captain, his yellow hair clinging to his dripping face, his blue
eyes, under their fringe of black lashes, glittering like polished
gems. Coated as he was with dust and sweat, his clothing torn and
spotted with the fray, he looked ten times more the gallant
gentleman, even, than when he had met Weldon in the heart-shaped
bit of lawn encircled by the Dents' driveway. Now he held out his
hand.

"Splendidly done, old man! One doesn't forget such things."

CHAPTER NINE

Captain Frazer had scarcely finished speaking, when the voice of the
General sounded in their ears.

"A plucky attack and a plucky defeat, Captain Frazer. Kemp is a man
worth fighting. You are not wounded?"

"Thanks to Trooper Weldon," the Captain told him, with a smile.

The General's keen glance included them both.

"Good! And now can you spare me a trusty man? One who can ride? I
must have some despatches at Krugersdorp before midnight. I should
like some one from your squadron."

The eyes of Captain Frazer and Weldon met. Again the General's keen
glance was on them both; then it concentrated itself upon the
younger man.

"I am ready," he answered to its unspoken question.

"You are sure you are fit? It is forty miles, and the rain will be
on us inside of an hour."

"It makes no difference."

As he spoke, Weldon felt himself surveyed from hat to shoelace.

"Very well. Get yourself fed, and come to my tent in an hour. It
will be better to wait until dusk before starting,