A Dash from Diamond City | Page 5

George Manville Fenn
at the same time to be utterly astonished.
"How come there?" he cried. "'Tick 'tween um toe--so."
He illustrated "so" by stamping his foot down over and over again and raising it up, the last time cleverly picking an ordinary pebble from the ground with his toes, and holding it out as easily as if he had used his fingers and thumb.
But his action had no effect upon those around, who were well used to the Kaffirs' tricks, and received everything with the grimmest of looks as they passed their prisoner along for punishment, and finally ordered forward the last man. This prisoner took West's attention from the first, for he was a well-built, keenly intelligent-looking fellow, who seemed quite awake to his position and behaved throughout with a calm air of conscious innocence.
It struck West, too, that the Kaffir kept on gazing very hard at Anson, as if attracted by his gently-smiling, innocent-looking face, and as if he were silently pleading to the most amiable-looking personage of the party to intercede for him and save him from punishment.
Anson, however, did not appear to notice the man's eager looks, being too much interested in the search for illicitly-acquired stones, and eagerly watching every phase of the proceedings, his eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed with pink at every fresh discovery, while he rubbed his hands and looked from one to the other with all the pleasure of some big, fat, stupid child.
"Now then," cried the chief searcher roughly; "come along."
The Kaffir quietly submitted to the rough handling he experienced in being forced up to the stool, and, anticipating the order, he opened his mouth; but the under-searcher roughly told him to "shut up," and he closed his fine white teeth with an audible snap, while the search was commenced at his feet, the toes being carefully examined without result.
Then his closely-knotted hair, which looked as if it would have made, if he were scalped, good trimmings of astrachan wool for the collar and cuffs of an English gentleman's overcoat, was carefully searched by well-trained fingers; the ears were probed and inspected; nostrils searched and given a final wring between thumb and finger as if he were being insulted in old-fashioned style by pulling his nose; and lastly, his cheeks were felt outside and in, and the searchers, who looked puzzled, made the black kneel down and remain for some time in that position, with his mouth wide open and head thrown back so that the sun shone right into his great mouth.
"He's all right!" said Anson enthusiastically. "You've got the wrong pig by the ear this time. I thought this fellow looked honest."
The Kaffir darted a grateful look at the speaker, which told plainly enough that he comprehended the words, and Anson replied with a smile.
"Ah, you ought to be on this job, Mr Anson," said the chief searcher sarcastically. "You'd be invaluable here."
Anson laughed good-humouredly.
"You're bantering," he said; "I know. But I should like it, and I fancy I could find the diamonds quickly enough if a man had hidden any."
"Find them then now," said the man who had spoken. "Come on."
There was a general laugh here, in which Anson joined.
"Nay," he said good-humouredly; "get another subject who has some hidden. That chap has none, unless he has swallowed some."
"What would you do then, squire?" said the man. "Shoot him, and make a post-mortem exam?"
"Ugh! horrid!" cried Anson, with a look of the most intense disgust. "But I say, I mean it. Fetch another chap, and let me examine him. I should like to, really."
"Why don't you search this one?" said Ingleborough contemptuously, and West laughed.
Anson winced and turned upon them half-angrily. But he changed his manner before he had finished speaking, and his face broke up into a broad smile.
"Because I don't want to be laughed at by you chaps and called a fool," he said. "I'm not stupid enough as it is to believe he has any diamonds hidden."
"Well, I am," said Ingleborough coolly.
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Anson mockingly. "You go on with the search then, and find them."
"There is no need," said Ingleborough coldly; "those two know what they're about."
He was wrong in saying "two," for the under-searcher now continued the examination, and Anson's eyes were screwed-up and twinkled again upon seeing the man give up at the end of another two minutes and shrug his shoulders.
"No go," he said, turning to his companion. "Someone has been too clever here."
"Look again," said his chief.
"No: I shan't look any more. I've done."
West's eyes were resting upon the Kaffir, and he saw the man draw in a deep slow breath which made his broad chest expand, retaining the air for a minute and then slowly ejecting it.
"Ah! you'll never make a first-class searcher, Jem," said the head man.
"I never did profess
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