And amongst them swaggered shaggy-bearded and badly dressed Boers, scowling or jeering coarsely at the crowd they pushed so rudely through.
They heard one drunken fellow begin to shout out, "Rule, Britannia," but he was immediately seized by a couple of Zarps and dragged off to prison. No one interfered on his behalf, nor did our heroes feel much pity either; he had such an atrocious rasping voice that they were almost grateful to the Boers for silencing it. At last they turned down a quiet street, and soon reached a house where the front door stood wide open, and where the first-flat windows were lighted up.
"This is our club," said Philip, as they entered.
There was an office in the hall where lay a visitors' book. In this he entered their names, with his own. Then, with a nod to the silent hall-keeper, he showed them upstairs.
"Our reading-room," Philip said, as he ushered them into a large room comfortably furnished.
There were a good number of gentlemen assembled, reading papers and magazines, or writing. Philip looked about him keenly, and, nodding to several, took a chair and touched the electric bell. Almost immediately a waiter entered from another room.
"The committee are waiting for you, sir," whispered the waiter to Philip.
"All right. Excuse me for a few moments, boys. You will find all the latest magazines here, and I'll not be long."
He went out of the room, and left them to amuse themselves as they best could amongst the papers and magazines.
They had not very long to wait, however, before he returned and said--
"Now, boys, come with me, and I'll show you the other parts of these premises."
There was nothing about the premises of the Three Ace Club so far to show its character. It was entered as a non-political club for British Africanders. As drink and gambling were strictly prohibited, and its object was more for reading than social intercourse or discussion, it was regarded as a very slow affair by the majority of the community, and only patronised by the most staid and respectable. A considerable number of members, however, were entered upon its books, and as far as subscriptions went, it was in a flourishing enough condition.
It had been organised since the fiasco of 1896, and although Uncle Paul had regarded it with suspicion at first, its respectable and sleepy character had allayed even his suspicions.