Wilmshurst of the Frontier Force

by Percy F. Westerman

"Excuse me," began Wilmshurst. "I believe your name is Robert MacGregor?"

The Rhodesian, without showing any surprise at the subaltern's question, merely nodded. A man who has lived practically alone for years in the wilds is not usually ready with his tongue.

"Did you ever run across a man called Wilmshurst—Rupert Wilmshurst?" continued Dudley. "He's my brother, you know," he added by way of explanation.

"Yes," replied MacGregor slowly. "He was a chum of mine."

CHAPTER IV

SPOFFORTH, MACGREGOR, AND THE LIONESS

Robert MacGregor pulled a pipe from his pocket and leisurely filled it with Boer tobacco. His slow, deliberate way contrasted forcibly with Wilmshurst's quick, incisive manner; his slow dialect would have irritated the subaltern beyond measure but for the fact that he guessed the Rhodesian to be of Scots descent.

Dudley noticed particularly that MacGregor had referred to his brother in the past tense. It sounded ominous.

"Was a chum?" he repeated with an accent on the first word.