‘No, thank you. We do not drink strong drink,’ interfered Steve. They had not touched the refreshments supplied by the Jews. ‘What is mijnheer’s name?’ continued Jew No. 2. ‘Hans?’ ‘Yes; put Hans what?--your family name, I mean?’ ‘Oh, just Hans; that is enough for you,’ said Oom Hans, laughing. The eagerness of the Jews amused him. ‘Well, look here, Mijnheer Hans, what will you take for your farm?’ ‘Nothing?’ ‘What!’ ‘Nothing?’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I don’t want to sell it!’ ‘Not at any price? I will give you a big price for it.’ ‘No; I do not want to sell at any price.’ ‘Not for a hundred tousand pound? two hundred tousand pound? five hundred tousand pound? Come, if you show me a reef like that quartz on your farm, I shall give you one million pounds. Don’t say no, mijnheer--_Ten hundred tousand pounds?_’ ‘No, I don’t want your money.’ ‘You tink I have no money! Come to the bank, I will show you. You tink you get more from annuder man. I tell you one million pound very much monies. Ask the young man!’ pointing to Steve. ‘No, I don’t want your money. Come, Stephaans, let us go.’ The Jew ran towards the door and said,-- ‘Don’t go yet, Mijnheer Hans. I give you what you ask; you make your own price. Or I tell you what, you keep your farm, you just tell me where it is, you show me the place that sample comes from, and I will give you five tousand pound--ten tousand pound,’ eagerly added the Jew, visions of a rich prospector’s mijnpacht floating before his eyes. Oom Hans was getting tired of this, as well as annoyed at the Jew’s perseverance. He must get rid of him. ‘I will think of it, and let you know to-morrow,’ he said. ‘Where shall I see you?’ ‘If I want to do business with you, I will come here at ten o’clock to-morrow,’ was the non-committal reply. Steve and Oom Hans went to the boarding-house, where they had secured a room. They noticed that the Jews followed them, and after having seen them into the boarding-house, left again, apparently satisfied that they could lay their hands on the old Boer when they wanted him. But they counted without their host. The old man paid his bill before going to bed; and when the sun rose, he and Steve were far on their way home. CHAPTER V THE JEW AGAIN--DISCOURAGED Steve was once more in Pretoria. He had been for a week back in work, when one evening, as he was walking leisurely home from business, he heard an eager exclamation of joy behind him. The next moment his arm was firmly caught hold of, and he heard a Jewish voice, not quite unfamiliar, saying,-- ‘Oh, mine tarling poy, how I have looked for you; oh, praise pe to father Abraham, I have found you.’ Steve’s hand was snatched up eagerly and joyfully shaken. It was one of the Jews they had met in Johannesburg. ‘Oh, how I have looked for you, mine frint. I have made two horses tie, so I have rode them, to find you, and your honest old frint. Come, come, let us go into this bar and have a bottle of fiz.’