"I can't explain exactly," replied his chum, "but from what I've seen of Van der Wyck he's pretty strong and determined and not likely to submit to being robbed without doing something."
Next morning at breakfast the subject of the train robbery was again broached.
"I'll swear that was Jan Groute's gang," declared the Cape Mounted policeman. "Jan's been lying low for some months, but he's the only fellow I know who'd have the cheek to bring off a thing like that. I was on his trail once. You remember that hold-up about two years ago near Beaufort West when two farmers had to stand and deliver to the tune of £500? We got hot on Jan's trail. In fact, one of our fellows hit him at three hundred yards, but he cleared off on horseback, although he was bleeding like a stuck pig. We found his horse, but he was off. I fancy he boarded a goods train and slipped off during the night."
"Does the paper give the name of the passenger who was wounded, sir?" asked Colin.
Both men looked curiously at their youthful questioner. By the use of the word "sir" they rightly put him down to be an English boy.
"Yes, sonny," replied the mining engineer. "A chap called Armitage, living up Bulawayo way. Why did you ask?"
"Because we had a friend who left here for Mafeking last Friday. We were a bit anxious, you know."
"Well, he might be a little lighter as far as his pockets are concerned," rejoined the policemen. "Jolly sight better than a plugged shoulder, and less painful."
"What was your chum's name?" inquired another of the guests, a man with shifty eyes to whom Colin and Desmond had taken a dislike.
"Van der Wyck," replied Tiny.