said."

And Hansie understood that he was gaining time.

After all the fuss that had been made, she was not surprised next day
when the Commissioner of Police asked her, very politely, while
closely inspecting the "note of recommendation," to call for her
permits on Monday (this was Thursday), as there would be some delay in
having them "approved" by the other officials.

This was again done to gain time while the authorities were putting
their heads together, trying to find out "what the dickens" she could
want in Johannesburg.

Hansie knew this well enough, although she filled her diary with
lamentations and wonderings.

"Will you be all right alone, mother, at a time like this?" Hansie
asked, as, with her permits at last in her possession, she hugged her
mother in affectionate farewell.

"Oh yes, I am well guarded, as you know," Mrs. van Warmelo answered,
laughing; "there is plenty of time, and you will be back before
anything can happen."

Hansie looked doubtful. Was her mother play-acting? Did she mind being
left, and was she only eager to have her daughter out of danger's way?
Or did she intend putting up the danger-signal, after all?

You see, Hansie was getting so used to plotting and scheming that she
could not help turning her newly acquired detective propensities on
her nearest and dearest when occasion offered, and she even misdoubted
the behaviour of her mother, tried as she had been, and never found
wanting, in many a crisis in the past.

"You will wire for me, won't you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Of course, of course--but there will be nothing to wire about, I am
quite sure."

With a sigh and many anxious forebodings, Hansie drove to the station
on her way to her "pleasure trip."

She was met in the Golden City, now more like a Dead City, by loving
friends and a magnificent St. Bernard dog, Nero, who soon made her
feel at home, although they could not altogether banish the cares,
dimly guessed at by them, with which she was oppressed.

The most reassuring news from home continued to reach her until one
morning, on the sixth day after her arrival, a brief postcard from her
mother informed her in a few bald words that Harmony had been searched
on "Sunday morning the 19th inst."

A few hours later Hansie was in the train, speeding, with remorse
tugging at her heart, to her mother's side.

It was something of a disappointment to her, on arriving at Harmony,
to find everything exactly a