“If a man finds a gold mine, he’s quick enough as a rule to find the capital for exploiting it. The Empire’s fairly wealthy.”
The other appeared doubtful.
“She did not become so through speculation,” he ventured.
“That’s no argument,” the younger man contended. “Something has been written, you know, against wrapping certain possessions away in a napkin. If one undertakes responsibility it’s up to one to turn it to the best account—otherwise leave it alone.”
The Jew relapsed into an acquiescent silence, from which Matheson presently dug him to inquire if he knew a farm named Benauwdheidfontein.
“No.” He looked up curiously. “I wouldn’t like to take a farm with a name like that,” he said.
“It’s something of a mouthful certainly,” Matheson agreed.
“Oh, that! Many Dutch homesteads have long names... But—Benauwdheidfontein! ... No! that’s bad.”
It became clear to Matheson that it was something the name suggested, rather than the word itself, to which the speaker objected.
“What does Benauwdheidfontein stand for?” he inquired.