A short sunburnt man came in and our friend sprang up and saluted, clicking his heels like a pair of tongs.
'These are the South African Dutch, Herr Captain,' he said.
The new-comer looked us over with bright intelligent eyes, and started questioning Peter in the taal.

It was well that we had taken some pains with our story, for this man had been years in German South West, and knew every mile of the borders.

Zorn was his name, and both Peter and I thought we remembered hearing him spoken of.
I am thankful to say that we both showed up pretty well.

Peter told his story to perfection, not pitching it too high, and asking me now and then for a name or to verify some detail.

Captain Zorn looked satisfied.
'You seem the right kind of fellows,' he said.