The age-herald., 1902-03-16
Romance of the War
om the Pail Mall Gazette


 From the Pail Mall Gazette
 Sergeant, you will be in command of the train. I shall be on the veranda of the farm over there. If anything un- toward happens turn on the searchlight and will run at once. I shall hear when '23 up passes the siding"
 ''Very good, sir
 The officer in charge of armored train No. 27 jumped from the footboard of his saloon and dived into the darkness of the weld. He was a subaltern who had been wounded at Moolplaats, and since his convalescence had commanded No. 27- the coffee cooler" as the men were pleased to call their rolling fortress. No. 27 had now been on this section of the | line for some time, escorting troops and supply trains. Incidentally the officer in command had discovered the best farms at which to buy eggs, milk and butter. But as he steered his steps toward a neat little homestead nestling against an un- derfeature of Free State kopje, some 200 yards from the siding where he had an- chored his command for the night, he was not quite sure whether eggs and bacon were the only attractions. He had not followed the main road to the farm. Previous acquaintance with the locality had taught him that there was a more direct route. A Kafir path lea round the confines of water dam, to where a small wicket gate barred the approach to the plantation which enclosed the farm house. The subaltern knew the path well and evinced no surprise when he saw the white of Dutch cappie showing against the darker shades of the plantation back ground. In fact, he expected to see it there, since he knew that the Jooste fam fly must have seen his train come in. The owner of the cappie was leaning over the wicket; 1t was too dark to see her face. but light enough to discern the slight and graceful lines of her form.
 Good evening, Chris. How good-p' "Ssh-h, you must not speak so loud; please go back to your train!" There was no mistaken the earnest appeal in those few words expressed in the mincing tones of the pretty Afrikander tongue.
 What is it, Chris?"
 "Oh, go-go back. I am an Afrikander girl; I cannot tell you why-only take this-eat it tonight!" As she pressed the parcel into her hand a great finger of white light cleft the shade of the planta- tion quivered a moment, and disap- peared. It was the searchlight signal. For a second the features of the girl sto ood revealed. A round. fresh face, a mass of fair, waving hair, and eyes-eyes of that blue common among the Dutch. The subaltern should have learned much in the brief life of that limelight beam much that is often good for a man to learn. The great round eyes were filled with tears. The face was deathly pale. Eat it tonight" The subaltern retraced his steps with this soft injunction ringing in his ears. In a few minutes he was back with his train.
 What is it. Sergeant?''
 Orders sir. Twenty-three up is de- | tained, and we are to patrol up to Bloem- | fontein at pce."
 "All right; tell the driver and call the pickets in"
 The subaltern climbed into his saloon and examined his parcel It only con- | tained a little cake-a crude doughnut | sprinkled with currants But he thought | of the fingers which had kneaded 1t, and was content
 Wilson" he said to his servant, I've are going on at once. Don't trouble about dinner; send me some food into the fore battery!" As he put on his great coat the subaltern slipped the gift cake into his pocket.
 The moon was up. No 27 armored train like some weird monster, was gliding along at six miles an hour. The subal- terh with a great fur rug all round him. sat punched up in the fore battery with his eyes glued on the parellel of metals in front of him. On either hand stood his watch, studying the approaches to the line on the right and left. Terrible work,