The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1903-07-19

At last she said firmly: VERY well:
either you take him into the wagon or
you stay here"
She rode to the head Of the long span
Of oxen. unslinGing the little Marlin repeat
ing rife from her back, refined in Kess,
and with the rife on her arm. sat facing
Stcckvis smiling unpleasantly. stockvis
fumed and ragged, swearing softly to his
son. gra5pins slowly the fact that he was
helpless.
He dare not touch Gerrit De Ruijter's
| daughter.
It would mean shooting the four Kafiirs
with him, who stood around grinning at
his discontinue.
At last 1t flashed upon Stockvls that his
furlough lasted only ten days. and at the
same moment he remembered that he was
| not bent with any great seriousness on
taking his captive home to show to. the
little ones. and he roared: "All this fuss
about very damned Rooinek! Take him
| yourself. and much good may he do your
Very good said Elizabeth. throwing her
rifle over her shoulder and moving toward
the wagon.
The kaffir drivers. rejoicing at tho de-
feat of their master. ran to loose the pris-
| oner; with a Shrek of agony the wheels
turned and the wagon moved on.
| She looked at him with knitted, puzzled
brow. as the greatness of the task Of get
ting him the fifteen miles daunted her, and
| while. with half mind. she considered how
she was to do it. with the other half she
| tried to understand his oarsman's Glib
berish.
They rested for half an hour and then
hat her
| her admirably. her feet We're blistered. Sud-
| denly her companion cried: I've a guinea
| thirst on me! Bring me some whisky and
| potash. Tomkins! Bring it in a bucketr
| She understood him roughly, but the
nearest spruit was at least two mile.
| ahead. and she babe him be patient in vain.
| He Kept crying. almost in wall. I'm SO
| thirsty!' or. angrily. Hang 1t all, Muriel,
| you might get me drinkv'
| She gave him soothing words and made
all the haste she could, with tho result that
she reached the spruit and the end Of her
forces at the same moment. They climbed
painfully down to the water. Recent rain
had swelled it to fair stream. He tumbled
out of the saddle and drank like a horse.
| Her legs would not carry her another mile
and night was not an hour of. There was
nothing for 1t but to leave tho Englishman,
ride home and return with another horse.
She must chance his wandering away. No,
she would not chance 1t; she tied him to a
| tree.
In trics she was in the saddle. Kess.
assured that he was gallopins toward
mealies. stretched himself out and in less
than half an hour she reached vrengderijk,
| her homestead. Instead Of returning her
] SELF She sent some Kaflr servants for him.
| For the next ten days she fought an un-
| firing battle against his fever.
| His first utterances were those Of q child
Of I, his chief emotion was the vivid, chang
| Ing curiosity of child among strange sur
roundings. When he came to his senses
Elizabeth's first question. and she held fer
| breath when she had asked 1t. was; who
| is Muriel7"
IT don't know" he said. after thinking
| little while, IT never heard Of him."
| Elizabeth's gasp of relief was almost q
| groan. Then she drew from him a child's
| account of himself. His name was Antony
| Arbuthnot. He lived in a house in a park
with papa and mamma and sissy. He had
a pony called Taffy. a dog called Gyp and
] four rabbits. He did not know the name Of