Part 3 (1/2)

”Ah! you'll never make a first-cla.s.s searcher, Jem,” said the head man.

”I never did profess to be so smart as you are,” retorted the other sharply.

”No, Jemmy, you never did,” said his chief; ”but you ought to have found something here.”

”Why, you don't think he has any about him, do you?” cried the man, who was staggered by his chief's cool, confident way of speaking.

”Yes, I do,” said the chief, ”and so does Mr Ingleborough there. Don't you, sir?”

Ingleborough nodded shortly, and West saw the Kaffir's eyes flash, while when he turned to Anson he saw that his fellow-clerk's face looked cold and hard.

But Anson's aspect changed the next moment, as soon as he saw he was observed, and he said, with a broad grin: ”Wish I was a betting man: I could easily win half-a-crown or two over this.”

But it struck West that there was a ring of insincerity in the tone of his voice, and the hard look began to come like a grey shadow over his fat pink cheeks as he saw the chief searcher go closer up to the Kaffir, bring his hands down heavily upon the man's shoulders, and stand facing him and looking him full in the eyes.

There was utter silence now. The Kaffir stood for a moment firmly gazing back into his white holder's eyes; but it manifestly required a strong effort, and West felt sure that he saw a quiver like a shadow of dread run down the black, making his knees slightly shake.

The whole thing was momentary, and the looker-on could not feel sure.

Then the searcher spoke.

”You're a clever one,” he said, with a harsh laugh, ”and you don't mind hurting yourself to do a bit of the illicit. Turn round.”

He gave the Kaffir a sharp thrust with one hand, a pull with the other, and the man stood with his back to the lookers-on.

CHAPTER THREE.

RATHER SUSPICIOUS.

What followed was performed with the quick dexterity of a clever surgeon, the searcher bending down, grasping the great firm muscles of the Kaffir's right leg about mid-way between hip and knee, and pressing hard with his two thumbs, when to the surprise of West a small perpendicular slit opened and a good-sized diamond was forced out, to fall upon the ground and be received by the under-searcher, while the wound closed up again with all the elasticity of a cut made in a piece of indiarubber.

”Bravo!” cried West, and then he held his breath as he saw the clever manipulation performed upon the Kaffir's other leg, a second diamond being forced out of the man's elastic muscle, to be secured in turn.

”That will do,” said the chief searcher, after a quick glance down the Kaffir's arms, the man scowling and looking depressed as he was marched away.

”Almost a pity you didn't back your opinion heavily, Mr Anson, eh?”

added the official.

”Well, I am deceived,” said Anson, wrinkling up his forehead. ”Who'd ever have thought of that?”

”The Kaffirs, seemingly,” said Ingleborough coolly? and he smiled in Anson's disconsolate face.

”But it's wicked,” cried Anson, ”downright wicked for a man to cut himself like that for the sake of a bit of glittering gla.s.s. I say, mustn't it hurt very much?”

”Can't say,” said West merrily. ”Try!”

”What, me?” cried Anson, looking startled and involuntarily thrusting his hands down to touch the parts in question. ”Oh no! It's horrible what people will do for the sake of gain.”

”Quite sure you wouldn't like to try, Mr Anson?” said the searcher.