come without delay, and to be present when the operation had
to be performed.

With all the speed he could Mr. Botha hurried to the house in which
Captain Naude was waiting, explained the case of Krause to him and
took a warm and hearty leave, kneeling with him for a few moments
first, as was his wont, in earnest prayer to God for the protection of
the traveller.

He then called for Mr. Hocke, and the two men hurried to Mr. Krause's
house in Prinsloo Street, where they found the doctor (a man initiated
in all the mysteries of Boer espionage and a trusted friend) on the
point of performing the small, though painful operation.

When it was over, Mr. Botha, prompted Heaven only knows by what
foreshadowing of disaster, gave his friend a serious lecture on the
dangers of his recklessness.

"How can you go about the town so much in broad daylight, whenever you
come in?" he asked. "Always on that bicycle of yours! Surely you must
know that you expose yourself to untold dangers!"

"Oh, I could not always stay indoors! The house is far too close," the
patient exclaimed, nursing his lacerated thumb.

Mr. Botha urged him to leave on Sunday night, not to remain longer
than was necessary, and to take with him a young German, who had been
wounded and was now convalescent, after having been concealed and
nursed for many months by trusty friends in town.

And another warning he impressed upon him with unusual earnestness:

"Whatever you do, Krause, don't associate yourself with the party
leaving under young Delport's guidance. I fear that there is something
terribly wrong. He is going out with far too large a number, fifty men
in all, he told me yesterday, and something warns me that amongst the
men there are detectives on the English side. Delport is young and
very reckless, and the thought of the great number going out with him
this time has made me more anxious than I can say."

Krause produced his revolver from an inside pocket, and declared that
before he surrendered himself a prisoner more than one British soldier
would be killed or wounded by him.

With a heavy heart and many sad forebodings, Mr. Botha left him. For
he remembered, with increasing anxiety, a visit he had had from
Delport, when the latter had asked for his assistance in getting his
men--fifty, as he had said--safely through the town.

Mr. Botha had refused at the time, pretending that he had never taken
part in such proceedings, and warning the young