A Dash from Diamond City - Part 17
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Part 17

"Oh, I don't know," said Anson airily. "I don't believe they would stop a man with an empty wagon going south on a peaceful journey."

"They'd take you and your wagon and span, sir," said the officer sternly.

"Look here, I don't believe the Boers would behave half so badly to me as my own people have done. But aren't you going to search?"

"Yes," said the superintendent sharply. "Your rifle, please."

Anson unslung it from where it hung in the wagon, and the officer took it, examined the stock and the plate at the end of the b.u.t.t, to be sure that there were no secret places scooped out of the wood, before he opened the breech and withdrew the ball cartridges, holding the empty barrels up to his eyes.

"That's right," cried Anson; "but have a good look round for squalls--I mean Boers. Gun-barrels don't make half bad things to squint through when you haven't got a binocular."

"Bah!" said the superintendent angrily, replacing the cartridges and closing the breech with a snap. "But you have a pair of gla.s.ses slung across your shoulder, sir. Have the goodness to pa.s.s the case here."

Anson obeyed willingly enough, giving his slung case up for the rifle that was returned.

"There you are," he said, "and when you've done I suppose you'd like to search my clothes and my skin. But I haven't anything there, and I haven't cut myself to slip diamonds inside my hide, and there are none in my ears or boots."

"It's my duty to have you searched all the same," said the superintendent. "Here, two of you go carefully over Mr Anson, while you three hitch up your horses there and make a close search throughout the wagon."

Anson chuckled as the men began promptly to pa.s.s their hands over his clothes, turn out his pockets, and haul off his boots, their chief, after satisfying himself that the binocular case had no false bottom or precious stones inside the instrument itself, looking searchingly on.

Satisfied at last that his captive had nothing concealed about him, and frowning heavily at the malicious grin of contempt in which Anson indulged, the superintendent turned to the men examining the oxen so as to satisfy himself that none of the heavy dull brutes had been provided with false horns riveted over their own and of greater length so as to allow room for a few diamonds in each.

Then the dissel boom was examined to see if it had been bored out somewhere and plugged to cover the illicitly-acquired diamonds thrust in.

But no: the great pole of the wagon was perfectly solid; there were no stones stuck in the grease used to anoint the wheels; there was no sign anywhere outside the wagon of boring or plugging; and at last the superintendent, after carefully avoiding Anson's supercilious grin, turned to give a final look round before giving up the search.

Was there anywhere else likely?

Yes; there were the bags of mealies and the water-cask slung beneath the wain, both nearly full, the cask to give forth a sound when it was shaken, and the sacks ready to be emptied out upon a wagon sheet and shed their deep buff-coloured grains, hard, clean, and sweet, in a great heap, which was spread out more and more till they were about two deep, but showed not a sign of a smuggled stone.

"Fill the bags again, my lads," said the police superintendent, "and let's have a look at what's inside the wagon."

"We've searched everything there," said a sergeant gruffly.

"I have not," replied the superintendent sharply. "Let me see."

"But you haven't looked in the water-cask," said Anson mockingly; "turn the water out on to the wagon sheet. It won't stay there, of course; but we can easily get some more. Do you think diamonds would melt in water?"

"Try one and see," cried the superintendent angrily, as he turned away, to stand looking on while every article that could by any possibility have been made to act as a vehicle to hide smuggled diamonds had been examined and replaced.

"We've been sold, eh?" said the sergeant, looking up in his superintendent's eyes at last.

"It seems like it," was the reply. "There's nothing here."

Just then Anson, who had been lighting a fresh cigar, came up to him smilingly.

"Haven't done, have you?" he said.

"Yes: quite," was the gruff reply.

"Oh, I am sorry you haven't had better luck," said Anson, in a mock sympathetic tone. "It must be terribly disappointing, after expecting to make a big capture."

"Very," said the superintendent, looking the speaker searchingly in the eyes.

"Well, I said something to you before, but you took no notice."

"Oh yes, I did."

"But you didn't act on my tip. It seems like playing the sneak, but that's what they did to me, so I don't mind paying them back in their own coin."

"Pay whom?"

"The two who informed on me to save their own skins."

"I do not understand you."

"Oh dear, what fools you clever men are!"

"What do you mean?"

"Bah! And you call yourself a police officer. I'd make a better one out of a Dutch doll."

"Once more, what do you mean?"

"Rub the dust out of your eyes, man."

"There's none there."

"Tchah! Your eyes are full of the dust those two threw there. Can't you see?"

"No."

"Well, I am surprised at you," cried Anson; "and after such a hint too!

Can't you see that they've been a-playing upon you--setting you off on a blind lead to keep your attention while they went off with a big parcel of diamonds?"

"What! West and Ingleborough?"

"To be sure! What should they want to volunteer for, and risk capture by the Boers, if they hadn't something to gain by it?"

"Well, they had something to gain--honour and promotion."

"Pish!" cried Anson; "they want something better than that! You've been had, squire. You've been set to catch poor innocent, lamb-like me, and all the while those two foxes have been stealing away with the plunder."

"What!" cried the superintendent.

"I spoke plainly enough," said Anson, smiling pleasantly.

"Yes, you spoke plainly enough," said the superintendent; "but it's nothing to laugh at, sir."