“Look at me, Davie,” I heard him say. “You have something to tell me, and it is very important. It is about Laputa, isn’t it? Think, man. You took him to Machudi’s and gave him the collar. He has gone back with it to Inanda’s Kraal. Very well, my guns will hold him there.” I shook my head. “You can’t. You may split the army, but you can’t hold Laputa. He will be over the Olifants before you fire a shot.” “We will hunt him down before he crosses. And if not, we will catch him at the railway.” “For God’s sake, hurry then,” I cried. “In an hour he will be over it and back in the kraal.” “But the river is a long way.” “River?” I repeated hazily. “What river? The Letaba is not the place. It is the road I mean.” Arcoll’s hands closed firmly on my wrists. “You left Laputa at Machudi’s and rode here without stopping. That would take you an hour. Had Laputa a horse?” “Yes; but I took it,” I stammered. “You can see it behind me.” Arcoll dropped my hands and stood up straight. “By God, we’ve got him!” he said, and he spoke to his companions. A man turned and ran out of the tent. Then I remembered what I wanted to say. I struggled from the bed and put my hands on his shoulders. “Laputa is our side of the highroad. Cut him off from his men, and drive him north—north—away up to the Rooirand. Never mind the Wolkberg and the guns, for they can wait. I tell you Laputa is the Rising, and he has the collar. Without him you can mop up the Kaffirs at your leisure. Line the high-road with every man you have, for he must cross it or perish. Oh, hurry, man, hurry; never mind me. We’re saved if we can chivy Laputa till morning. Quick, or I’ll have to go myself.” The tent emptied, and I lay back on the bed with a dim feeling that my duty was done and I could rest. Henceforth the affair was in stronger hands than mine. I was so weak that I could not lift my legs up to the bed, but sprawled half on and half off.