“Think? Well, it’s plain enough,” said Lennox. “Thieves have been here.”
“Yes, sir. The open door took my notice at once. That chap ought to have seen it; but he didn’t, or he’d have given the alarm.”
“Go on,” said Lennox, and he followed the man right into the barn-like building, to stop short in front of the first of the half-dozen or so of sacks at the end, this having been thrown down and cut right open, so that a quantity of the maize had gushed out and was running like fine shingle on to the floor.
“Kaffirs’ work,” said Lennox sharply.
“Well, sir, if I may give you my opinion I should say it was those Boers,” said the sergeant gruffly.
“What!”
“Man must eat, sir, and it strikes me that they, in their easy-going way, thought it was as much theirs as ours, and helped theirselves to enough to last them till they could get more.”
“Well, whoever has done it,”—began Lennox.
Then he stopped short, and took a step forward. “Here, sergeant,” he cried, “hold the light higher.”
This was done, and then the pair bent down quickly over the sacks, each uttering an angry ejaculation.