Two dark figures, which followed us from the officers’ quarters, entered the khan behind us and stretched themselves on the floor before the door of the general sleeping-room. There we found them when we emerged in the morning; they proved to be two soldiers to whom the authorities had assigned the duty of ‘shadowing’ us. They told us, with much amusement, of how they had lost us the night before. Arriving at the khan about nine o’clock, they were informed that we had ‘disappeared’; the _khanji_ had not seen us leave with the Turkish officers. This alarmed the soldiers, and they started on a search for us. They were about to report our disappearance to headquarters, when, coming to the Turkish quarter, they heard strange sounds never before perpetrated in Veles. This was the song of ‘Sweet Alice.’ In the morning a negro merchant arrived at the khan from Istip and told us of a fight ‘in progress’ at Garbintzi, a little village about eight hours’ ride to the east. We had intended to take the train that afternoon for Uskub, but the chance of seeing a fight caused us to change our plans. We gathered as much hurried information as we could about the route, hired a Turkish guide, and set off for Garbintzi before noon. We planned to go unescorted, but this was not to be. Our guide, in pursuance of police orders, had informed the Konak of our sudden change of destination, and the _kaimakam_ despatched four Zaptiehs to accompany us. We were surprised that they permitted us to proceed. Being anxious to reach the scene of the combat as quickly as possible, we rode rapidly over the mountains, and came to Istip about six o’clock. An officer came up as we entered the town and greeted us like long-lost brothers. He was a Turk, and had a mission to perform. He informed us that the kaimakam had received a telegram from Veles advising him of our approach, and instructing him to see that we were treated in a manner befitting our exalted positions. The only place they could offer such worthy guests, who had so honoured Istip with a visit, was the kaimakam’s own house. The kaimakam, I may explain, lived above the gaol. We were presented to the kaimakam, and the official congratulated the Englishman on belonging to that great race which had so long befriended the Turks. To me he said he thought it wonderful that a great New York paper would send so youthful a man so many miles on so important a mission. ‘How old are you?’ he asked. ‘Twenty-five,’ I replied. ‘You look eighteen.’ He did not ask why I wore no moustache, probably fearing it was because I could not. The Turk is a gentleman. Information had evidently been given by our escort that we carried revolvers, for two officers entered the room through a door at the back, drew up chairs, and seated themselves immediately behind us. But we did not attempt to shoot the kaimakam. Another officer, perhaps the spy attached to the governor, also entered and occupied a seat beside his quarry.