"I want to ask you something, and I hardly like to," said Colin. "You might be very annoyed."
"It takes a lot to make me very annoyed," rejoined Van der Wyck. "I'll let you try, anyway. Out with it."
"You don't happen to be known as Jan Groute, do you?" asked Sinclair.
Van der Wyck held his sides, threw back his head, and roared with laughter until the tears came into his eyes.
"Allemachte!" he exclaimed, when he was able to regain his speech. "You'll be calling me Ned Kelly, Claude Duval, Deadwood Dick, or even Robin Hood next. No, I've been a good many things in the last twenty-five years, but bush-ranging or train robbery isn't in my line. What made you think that?"
Colin told him.
"It is certainly strange," admitted the Afrikander. "I can give no reason why the chief bandit gave you the go-by in the train. Perhaps he took a fancy to you. And you say your boss, Colonel Narfield, wrote to me?"
"Yes," replied Desmond, "but we know the letter went to the wrong address."
"Shouldn't have got it in any case," observed Van der Wyck, "until I got back to Mafeking. That may be very soon, now; you see, it's not much use digging for gold under five hundred feet of rock. I was hoping to get a little gold from the Makoh'lenga."
"Sorry, it was our fault," said Colin.