CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
A DARK VISITOR.
An hour must have passed away, during which neither of the weary bearers of the despatch moved.

Then in a low whisper West spoke.
"Asleep, Ingle ?" "Asleep?
No," was whispered back.

"I can't close my eyes." "Neither can I." "Why not ?" "Over tired and excited, I suppose.

All this is so strange too." "What have you been thinking about ?" "At first I could only think of the despatch and wonder whether we should get it to Mafeking.

Then I began thinking of that black out in the stable and what he said." "About his master wanting his pony saddled ?" whispered Ingleborough.
"Yes.