They saw all this and grosser outrages constantly being enacted under their eyes, and while they looked they ground their teeth, and wondered how long they would be able to endure this horrible restraint upon their pent-up feelings.
“It will be our turn before long to be batoned,” remarked Fred, quietly. “We cannot expect to be allowed to walk the streets much longer without being molested.”
“The Boer or German who attempts to lay a finger on me had better look out. I’ll leave my mark on him,” replied Ned, grimly.
“We’ll be there at the same time with our signatures,” put in Clarence, cheerfully.
Fred was right in his prognostications of evil. Their independent bearing had already been remarked upon by the police, and their turn came sooner even than they expected.
Chapter Twelve.
Our Heroes are Arrested.
One morning they had come into town, to have their customary promenade, listen to the latest news, and keep their blood flowing by watching the sights. Like Paddy, they were trying how much they could stand of this music, and vainly hoping to get used to it by constant habit.