The whole blooming lot." He told a tale of heroic disaster.

The remnant of the section had ridden off in hot indignation and had missed their way.

They had gone in a direction opposite to safety, and after a couple of hours had fallen in with a straggling portion of a Boer Commando.

Refusing to surrender, they had all been killed save Somers, who, with a bullet through his shoulder, had prudently turned bridle and fled hell for leather.
Boyce put his hands up to his head and walked about the yard for a few moments.

Then he turned abruptly and stood toweringly over the scared survivor--a tough, wizened little Cockney of five foot six.
"Well, what's going to happen now ?" he asked, in his soft, dangerous voice.
Somers replied, "I must leave that to you, sir." Boyce regarded him glitteringly for a long time.