Part 5 (1/2)

But Peters had enjoyed a good laugh, and all his anger had vanished.

”Now, Inyovu,” he said cheerily, ”get to work again.”

And Inyovu did.

Peace having been restored, the usual labour proceeded. Suddenly Peters' horse, which was knee-haltered among the bushes hard by, began to whinny, then to neigh. That meant the proximity of another horse, and a minute or two later Lamont rode up alone.

”Hallo, Peters! Nothing to make us millionaires to-day? What?” he sung out. ”No sign of the stuff?”

”Oh, that'll come. You've got the grin now, but we'll both have it--in the right direction too--when this bit of bush-veldt's humming with battery stamps and you and I are boss directors of the new fraud,”

answered Peters equably. They were to be joint partners in the results--if any--of Peters' prospecting, at any rate while such was carried on upon Lamont's farm.

”'Hope springs eternal...' or there'd be no prospectors,” laughed the latter as he dismounted from his horse. ”See here, Peters. I wish you'd left our desirable guest where he was, or taken him away somewhere else--anything rather than bring him here.”

”What could I do, Lamont?” was the deprecating reply. ”He said he was a pal of yours, and had come up-country on purpose to find you.”

”As for the first, he lied. I hardly knew the fellow, and what little I saw of him I disliked. For the second, I've no doubt he did. No. You brought him, and you'll have to take him away.”

”Well, I'll try and think out a plan.”

”If you don't, one of two things will happen. Either he'll take over the whole show or I shall be indicted for murder.”

”Couldn't we set up a sort of Matabele rising scare, and rush him off to Gandela?” said Peters, brightening up. ”I've a notion he isn't br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with eagerness for a fight.”

”The worst of setting up scares is that they're apt to travel farther than you mean them to, especially just now when that sort of scare may any moment become grim reality. No, I'm afraid that plan won't do.”

”Isn't there anyone you could pa.s.s him on to? Why not give him an introduction to Christian Sybrandt, and fire him off to Buluwayo?”

”Because I wouldn't give him an introduction to anybody--not on any account. See here, Peters. I don't like the fellow--never did, and he knows it too. But he's going to exploit me all he knows how, and--that won't be far. You remember that--er--that rotten affair I told you about--you know, the thing that had to do with my coming out here again when I did? Well, this fellow Ancram was there at the time. Helped to hoot me down, you understand.”

”Did he? The rotten, infernal swine! If I had known half that perhaps I would have left him for jackal's meat in the mopani before I moved finger, let alone touched trigger, to get him out,” said Peters savagely. ”By the Lord! I wonder you let him set foot inside the door after that.”

”What could one do? You can't turn a fellow away from your door, in this country, in a state of practical dest.i.tution,--for that's what being without a horse amounts to. I wish you could have saved his horse, Peters. And now he's been here ten days, and seems to think he owns the whole show. What do you think he's been up to this morning?”

”What?”

”Why I sent him out to shoot birds, or anything he darn chose, along the river bank--anything to get rid of him. I sent Zingela with him to take care of him, and carry the birds. Blest if he didn't start pounding Zingela.”

Peters whistled.

”That's pretty thick,” he said.

”Thick! I should think so. Swore the boy had cheeked him, and he hated n.i.g.g.e.rs, and so forth. Coming on to another man's place--without an invite, mind you--and then sailing in to bash his boys. Eh?”

”Yes. But had Zingela cheeked him?”

”Small wonder if he had. But all I could get out of the boy was that Ancram abused him because he couldn't find a guinea-fowl that had run.

He owned to having answered he wasn't a dog. Then Ancram let into him.