Captain Naude had come in on Thursday night and was to leave again on Saturday night. Another spy, young Delport, a brave and reckless youth, was also in the capital, "recruiting" men to take out with him to commando. That Saturday night, as Mr. Botha was on the point of leaving his home for the Captain's place of refuge, from where he had to "see him off," as arranged, Mrs. Krause arrived at his house in some agitation and said that her husband had just come in and wished to see Mr. Botha. Krause was suffering from an exceedingly painful whitlow in the thumb of his left hand, she said, and he had come to see a doctor and to have the whitlow cut. She implored Mr. Botha and his neighbour Mr. Hocke to come without delay, and to be present when the operation had to be performed. With all the speed he could Mr. Botha hurried to the house in which Captain Naude was waiting, explained the case of Krause to him and took a warm and hearty leave, kneeling with him for a few moments first, as was his wont, in earnest prayer to God for the protection of the traveller. He then called for Mr. Hocke, and the two men hurried to Mr. Krause's house in Prinsloo Street, where they found the doctor (a man initiated in all the mysteries of Boer espionage and a trusted friend) on the point of performing the small, though painful operation. When it was over, Mr. Botha, prompted Heaven only knows by what foreshadowing of disaster, gave his friend a serious lecture on the dangers of his recklessness. "How can you go about the town so much in broad daylight, whenever you come in?" he asked. "Always on that bicycle of yours! Surely you must know that you expose yourself to untold dangers!" "Oh, I could not always stay indoors! The house is far too close," the patient exclaimed, nursing his lacerated thumb. Mr. Botha urged him to leave on Sunday night, not to remain longer than was necessary, and to take with him a young German, who had been wounded and was now convalescent, after having been concealed and nursed for many months by trusty friends in town. And another warning he impressed upon him with unusual earnestness: "Whatever you do, Krause, don't associate yourself with the party leaving under young Delport's guidance. I fear that there is something terribly wrong. He is going out with far too large a number, fifty men in all, he told me yesterday, and something warns me that amongst the men there are detectives on the English side. Delport is young and very reckless, and the thought of the great number going out with him this time has made me more anxious than I can say." Krause produced his revolver from an inside pocket, and declared that before he surrendered himself a prisoner more than one British soldier would be killed or wounded by him.