A thin-faced man (piping). We haven't got the rifles. Every Dutchman's armed, and how many rifles will you find among the English?
Fat man (shooting home bolt of Lee-Metford). And who's fault's that? I've left my property in the Free State, and odds are I shall lose every penny I've got—what part? all over—and come here on to British soil, and what do I find? With fifty men I'd hold this place—
Thin-faced man. They'll be here to-night, old De Wet says, and they're to come here and sjambok the Englishmen who've been talking too much. That's what comes of being loyal!
Fat man. Loyal! With fifty men—
Brown-faced, grey-haired man (smoking deep-bowled pipe in corner). No, you wouldn't.
Fat man (playing with sights of Lee-Metford). What! Not keep the bridge with fifty men—
Brown-faced, grey-haired man. And they'd cross by the old drift, and be on every side of you in ten minutes.
Fat man (grounding Lee-Metford). Ah! Well—h'm!
Thick-set man. But we're safe enough. Has not the Government sent us a garrison? Six policemen! Six policemen, gentlemen, and the Boers are at Pieter's farrm, and they'll be here to-night and sjambok—
Thin-faced man. Where are the troops? Where are the volunteers? Where are the—