that the battle is not always to the strong or the race to the swift, he
who is young and rich and handsome, a spoiled child from the first. I
am sorry, but what I cannot help I must put up with. If I cannot have
my mealies cooked, I must eat them green. Also, Allan, have you never
heard that jealousy sometimes makes people rude and unjust?" and he
looked at me meaningly.

I made no answer, for when one does not quite know what to say it is
often best to remain silent, and he went on:

"I am vexed to hear of this foolish shooting match which has been
entered into without my knowledge or consent. If he wins he will only
laugh at you the more, and if you win he will be angry."

"It was not my fault, mynheer," I answered. "He wanted to force me to
sell the mare, which he had been riding without my leave, and kept
bragging about his marksmanship. So at last I grew cross and challenged
him."

"No wonder, Allan; I do not blame you. Still, you are silly, for it
will not matter to him if he loses his money; but that beautiful mare is
your ewe-lamb, and I should be sorry to see you parted from a beast
which has done us so good a turn. Well, there it is; perhaps
circumstances may yet put an end to this trial; I hope so."

"I hope they won't," I answered stubbornly.

"I dare say you do, being sore as a galled horse just now. But listen,
Allan, and you, too, Predicant Quatermain; there are other and more
important reasons than this petty squabble why I should be glad if you