They heard one drunken fellow begin to shout out, “Rule, Britannia,” but he was immediately seized by a couple of Zarps and dragged off to prison. No one interfered on his behalf, nor did our heroes feel much pity either; he had such an atrocious rasping voice that they were almost grateful to the Boers for silencing it. At last they turned down a quiet street, and soon reached a house where the front door stood wide open, and where the first-flat windows were lighted up.
“This is our club,” said Philip, as they entered.
There was an office in the hall where lay a visitors’ book. In this he entered their names, with his own. Then, with a nod to the silent hall-keeper, he showed them upstairs.
“Our reading-room,” Philip said, as he ushered them into a large room comfortably furnished.
There were a good number of gentlemen assembled, reading papers and magazines, or writing. Philip looked about him keenly, and, nodding to several, took a chair and touched the electric bell. Almost immediately a waiter entered from another room.
“The committee are waiting for you, sir,” whispered the waiter to Philip.
“All right. Excuse me for a few moments, boys. You will find all the latest magazines here, and I’ll not be long.”
He went out of the room, and left them to amuse themselves as they best could amongst the papers and magazines.
They had not very long to wait, however, before he returned and said—
“Now, boys, come with me, and I’ll show you the other parts of these premises.”