le, the property of an
English officer, which Willie Els, son of the Committee member, has
determined shall on no account be left behind.

Expostulations from the older men are all in vain.

The saddle, with the four other bags, is put into Delport's cab, which
is waiting at the door, and, after many fond farewells, the young men
drive off in the direction of the Pretoria Lunatic Asylum.

At this time there is no better spot for exit from the capital, but in
order to reach it one point of extreme danger has to be passed--the
point at which a British officer, with five-and-twenty mounted men, is
stationed, in command of a searchlight apparatus for scouring the
surrounding country.

The dangerous spot has been frequently passed in safety by these very
spies.

To-night they pass again in unobserved security, but alas! when they
have crossed the railway line, immediately opposite the asylum, where
they are in the habit of alighting with their parcels, they find to
their distress that, try as they will, they cannot carry more than the
four bags allotted to them in the first instance.

The bag containing the precious saddle must go back to town.

Oh, the pity of it!

The critical spot must be passed again, and, as ill-luck would have
it, the British officer hails the passing cab and is about to get in,
when his eye falls on the bag.

"What is this?" he asks the driver.

No concealment possible now!

"A saddle, sir."

"A saddle! Whose, and where are you taking it?"

"From Mr. Botha to Mr. Els in town. On my way I was stopped and asked
to take some passengers to the asylum, which I have just done. I was
going to Mr. Botha when you stopped me."

The officer looks doubtful, feels the bag all over and, taking a
notebook from his pocket, enters all the details of this most
suspicious-looking affair, the number of the cab, the name and address
of the driver, the names and full addresses of the two men who have
been mentioned.

Then he gets in and peremptorily orders the cabman to drive to
such-and-such an hotel in the centre of the town.

With a throb of relief Delport deposits his fare at the hotel and,
whipping up his horses, drives at the utmost speed to Mr. Els' house,
to warn him of the danger he is in.

Mr. and Mrs. Botha have just retired for the night, when they are
aroused by a hurried knock at the front door. They admit two girls,
one of them the daughter of Mrs. Els, the other a sister to Mrs.
Naud