When Denzil bent over him and drew the sealed packet from his pocket, he made a frantic but futile effort to burst the bonds that fastened his wrists. The rope, already uncomfortably tight, cut into the flesh and caused such pain he was fain to desist. Denzil dangled the packet before his face, jeering, then he gripped it tighter and struck him with it across the eyes.
“One day,” Lawless said grimly, “when my hands aren’t tied, you’ll pay for that.”
Van Bleit laughed loudly. The bully in him enjoyed watching aggression that feared no retaliation. To strike a man with his hands tied was infinitely amusing.
“Thought you had a wonderful find in that packet, eh?” he sneered. “Going to make your fortune—were you?—in another man’s gold mine.”
“I shouldn’t have objected to that idea so much,” Denzil interposed in a tone of deep disgust. “But he wouldn’t confess to that... He was posing virtuous.”
“Ah!” returned Van Bleit, grinning. “Looks virtuous, don’t he? ... Job on his rubbish heap! Well, it may ease his virtuous mind to know that so far as the value of that packet is concerned he might be allowed to keep it. It’s a fake, old man... got up for your amusement, and that of other fellows of an inquiring turn of mind. Almachtig! you don’t imagine I’m so green as to carry around letters that are worth a fortune?” He snapped his fingers in derision. “For a cute boy, Grit, you are surprisingly credulous. Those letters that so many mouths are watering for are safe—where you won’t get them. I don’t cart them round in my suit-case.”
He laughed again at the expression of Lawless’ face.
“Sold all round, eh? Lord! ain’t it funny?”
Then, his mood changing suddenly, he fell to scowling, and eyed Lawless malevolently above the revolver that still pointed direct at his heart.
“You fancy because Tom Hayhurst got hold of them once, it’s any man’s job. Well, it isn’t. And Tom wouldn’t have had the chance, only I was fool enough to bring them from Jo’burg to Cape Town. I deserved to lose them for not leaving them safe where they were. But I’m not taking any further risks. That packet of dummy letters is all I carry about... And I carry them with a purpose—the purpose of discovering such treacherous scoundrels as yourself. You’re in Grey’s pay. I know that... I found it out long ago. And you profess friendship for me... start out to win my confidence with the intention of robbing me—killing me, perhaps. You deserve to pay dearly for that. I’ve half a mind to shoot you... I’ll punish you somehow.”