He tossed Colin a small bag of discoloured wash-leather secured by a thin strip of cowhide.
"It won't bite you," he added with a laugh as Colin handled the bag without making any attempt to examine its contents. "Open it and see what's inside."
Sinclair did as he was asked, and drew out a curiously shaped piece of metal of crude native workmanship bearing a decided resemblance to a swastika. It was of gold inlaid with copper. The face was inscribed with rough representations of animals of a kind unknown to biology, while on the reverse side was an inscription in uncial characters. At the top of one of the four arms a hole had been drilled, or rather punched, for the edges were rough to the touch.
"Why, it's gold!" exclaimed Colin. "It must be worth a tremendous lot!"
Van der Wyck nodded gravely.
"Yes, it's gold," he agreed. "African gold but I fancy there are a good many people who would give you ten times its weight in gold to possess it."
"But why give it to me?" asked Colin in bewilderment.
"'Cause I want to," replied the Afrikander. "That's reason enough. But take my advice, if you want to realise on it——"
"But I wouldn't," protested Colin.
"To realise on it," continued Van der Wyck, "don't attempt to do so while you are in Africa. Keep it. Wear it. It may do you a very good turn."