Part 5 (2/2)
I'm not a good-tempered chap, Peters, and there'll be a most unholy row soon. What's to be done?”
”I have it,” cried Peters, his whimsical face puckering all over with glee. ”I have it. You know how skeery he looked when we were telling him about the possibility of a rising. Well then, let's cram him up that the Matabele are awful vindictive devils, and Zingela will never rest till he has his blood. How's that?”
”Well, that's an idea.”
”Rather. He'll wilt at the notion of a bloodthirsty savage, always looking out for his chance, day and night--especially the night, mind-- of getting an a.s.segai into him. I believe that'll do the trick. What?”
”I shouldn't wonder. By Jove, Peters, you're a genius. Well, you work it. If we both do, it'll look suspicious.”
”Right! I will. Still the fellow can be amusing at times. I'll never forget that first time we introduced ourselves. 'I'm Peters, prospector,' says I. 'And I'm Ancram, prospectless,' says he, without a moment's thought.”
And Peters went off into a roar over the recollection.
CHAPTER FIVE.
ANCRAM--PROSPECTLESS.
In crediting his unwelcome guest with a desire to 'take over the whole show,' Lamont was stating no more than was warranted by fact. For Ancram had made himself rather more than very much at home, to such an extent indeed that he might have been the owner of the place. Further, he had adopted a kind of elder-brotherly tone towards Lamont, and a patronising one towards Peters: and of this, and of him altogether, small wonder that both men were already thoroughly sick. Moreover, he showed not the slightest symptom of moving on.
As a sacrifice on the sacred altar of hospitality Lamont had conscientiously striven to conceal his dislike for the man, had even gone out of the way in order to make time pa.s.s pleasantly for him, in pursuance of which idea he had stood from him what he would have stood from n.o.body else. All of which Ancram put down to a wrong motive, and made himself more objectionable still.
”What are your plans, Ancram?” said Lamont, the day after the foregoing conversation.
”Oh, my dear fellow, it's so jolly here with you I hadn't begun to think of any.”
Lamont's face was stony grim in its effort to repress a frown.
”It brings back dear old Courtland,” went on Ancram, watching his host narrowly. ”Now you don't knock up against anyone who knows Courtland too, every day out here, Lamont?”
”No. I don't know that that's any loss, by the way.”
”Not? Now I should have thought--er--that for old acquaintance' sake you'd--er--but then--er--I was forgetting. What a fool I am.”
He little suspected how cordially his listener was agreeing.
”You see, it's this way, Lamont. I came out here to see what I could do in the gold digging or farming line, or something of that sort. What could I?”
”Do you want a candid opinion, Ancram?”
”Yes. What could I?”
”Nothing.”
The other stared, then laughed unpleasantly.
”You left your things at Pagadi,” went on Lamont. ”My advice is get back to f.a.gadi, pick up your traps--thence, to England.”
The other laughed again, still more unpleasantly.
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