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"On the Firing Line"

"
But Kruger Bobs stood his ground. "Boss Weldon go see his vrouw;
Kruger Bobs go see his vrouw; Boss Carew no vrouw."
However, in spite of the advice of Kruger Bobs, Carew was at
Weldon's side, as they rode through Winburg, the next morning.
Already the country was taking on the look of summer, and the dusty
stretches of veldt were tinged here and there with thin patches of
growing green. Over the hills nearest the town were scattered the
lines of ruined trenches, still littered here and there with rusty
tools dropped there by the Boers when, long months before, they had
caught sight of the advancing armies of French and Hutton. As they
drew nearer, Weldon could make out the familiar details of a field
hospital: the low white tents in their circle of whitewashed stones,
the Red-Cross nurses hurrying to and fro and the blue-coated
convalescents strolling leisurely about the enclosure. Carew,
meanwhile, had pushed forward. Above the P. M. O.'s tent fluttered
the Red Cross, and he had caught sight of a white apron and a
scarlet cape in the open door.
"Miss Mellen! Alice!"
In the still air of a summer noon, Carew's voice carried distinctly
back to Weldon.


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