Part 7 (1/2)
”Nice fellow, Ames,” said Peters.
”Rather. One of the best we've got, and one of the smartest. He's got a ticklish district, too, with the whole of Madula's and half Zazwe's people in it. Hard luck to saddle him with Tolozi into the bargain.
Yes, Ames is a ripping good chap. Been long in this country, Mr Ancram?”
”Er--no. I've only just come.”
”Peters picked him up in the mopani veldt, down Pagadi way, and brought him on,” said Lamont. ”He was nearly dead of thirst.”
”And something else” is how the whimsical look which puckered the quaint countenance of Peters might have been interpreted. Driffield whistled.
”You were in luck's way, Mr Ancram,” he said. ”That's an awful bit of country. More than one man has gone missing there and never been heard of again.” And the whimsicality of Peters' look was enhanced.
”I suppose you haven't seen much of the country then?” went on Driffield. ”I wonder if you'd care to come along with me now. I could show you a pretty wild slice of it, and any number of Matabele at home, into the bargain.”
”There's your chance, Ancram,” cried Peters. ”By Jove! there's your chance.”
”I should like it. But--er--is it safe?” replied Ancram, bearing in mind Lamont's remarks the night of his arrival. Driffield stared, then choked down his efforts not to splutter.
”Safe?” he said. ”Well, I've got a life to lose, and so has Ames. And we neither of us expect to lose it just yet.”
”Yes; I'd like to come, but--I've no horse.”
”Daresay I can lend you one,” said Lamont. ”You'll want a couple of blankets too. How are your donkeys loaded, Driffield?”
”Lightly loaded, so that won't be in the way. Very well, then. Can you be ready in an hour's time?”
”Oh, there's no such hurry, Driffield,” urged Peters. ”Now you've lugged me away from my millionaire factory, you must make it worth while, and let's have time for a smoke and a yarn.”
The Native Commissioner agreed to start an hour later; and then there was much chaff at Peters' expense in his prospecting operations. Then Driffield said--
”You'll be coming over to the race meeting at Gandela, I suppose, Lamont?”
”Don't know. When is it?”
”End of week after next.”
”I don't care much for race meetings.”
”Oh, but there'll be a regular gymkhana--tent-pegging and all sorts of fun. Oh, and Miss Vidal says you are to be sure and turn up.”
”Oh, get out with you, Driffield, and take that yarn somewhere else.”
”It's a solemn fact, Lamont. She was booming you no end the other day-- saying what a devil of a chap you were, and all that sort of thing. I asked her if I should tell you to roll up at the race meeting, and she answered in that candid, innocent way of hers 'Of course.' You can't stay away after that. Can he, Peters?”
”Not much.”
”Oh well, I'll go then.”
”You're in luck's way, Lamont. Miss Vidal's far and away the nicest girl anywhere round here.”
”She's all that, I allow.” But a subtle note in the tone was not lost upon one--and that one Ancram.