But there's no fear: that sentry would fire at any thief who tried to steal! That's safe enough!" "I wish I could think so!" replied West.

"The first thing when they come will be to ask me what I have done with my jacket." "Pooh! In that loose, dark flannel shirt they'll never think of it.

I thought they'd have been here, though, before now." They had to wait for some little time still, for the Boers had gathered about the new-comer, forming a half-circle, evidently to listen while Anson talked to them earnestly, his gesticulations suggesting to Ingle borough, rightly or wrongly, that he was describing the arrangements for defence made by the British garrison at Kimberley, which he had so lately left; and as he spoke every now and then the listeners nodded, slapped the stocks of their rifles, turned to make remarks to one another, and gave the speaker a hearty cheer.
"Oh, you beauty!" growled Ingleborough.

"I can't hear a word you say; but I'm as certain as if I were close up that you're telling those chuckle-headed Dutch that all they've got to do is to march straight in and take Kimberley, for they'll find it as easy as kissing their hands." "If he is telling them the weak points it's downright treason," said West bitterly, after a glance out of the wagon in the direction of the rocks on which lay his jacket.
"It's stand him up with a firing party, and a sergeant with a revolver to finish the work if it isn't quite done," said Ingleborough.

"The cowardly scoundrel: he'll be getting his deserts at last! I say, though, isn't it sickening?
A blackguard like that, who doesn't stop at anything to gain his ends!" For Anson had finished speaking and the Boers had closed round him, patting him on the back and pressing forward one after the other to shake his hand, while he smiled at them in his mildest, blandest way.
After a few more friendly words the ex-clerk began slouching slowly up, followed by half-a-dozen of the principal men, till he was close to the tail of the prison wagon where West and Ingleborough were seated trying to look perfectly indifferent, but the former with his heart beating heavily and a flush coming hotly into his cheeks, when the Boers stopped short, leaving Anson to speak, listening the while as if they anticipated a little amusement from their new friend the informer hailing the prisoners in the wain.
"Hullo!" cried Anson, with one of his most irritating smiles--one full of the triumph over them he enjoyed and the contempt he felt, "hullo! Who'd have thought that the virtuous West and the enthusiastic sham detective Ingleborough would have come out here to join the Boers?
But don't tell me.