"If he doesn't come to me, I go to him." She looked him straight in the eyes. "You mean to best him, Grit," she said. "Yes." "Remember, I'm your lieutenant." "Yes," he said again. And they fell into silence as before. Van Bleit's answer acted somewhat as a set-back to their plans. Lawless had never contemplated the addition of Denzil to their numbers. It came altogether as a surprise. "This complicates matters," he said. "Looks fishy... rather as though he had his doubts of me. And yet I'll swear when I last saw him--" He broke off and thought about the matter. "It won't be so easy to outwit two," he said. Then a smile of satisfaction dawned in his eyes. "It's safe to predict, if they're both up here, we shall have a chance of seeing those letters..." Van Bleit and Denzil on their arrival hired a Cape cart from the town and drove the twenty miles across the veld. They congratulated themselves long ere they reached their destination on the foresight that had decided them to bring only a small amount of luggage. "No man," Van Bleit observed to his companion, "could stick it here for long. What a cheek the fellow has to imagine a woman--and such a woman--is going to find his companionship sufficient to reconcile her to this sort of thing! It's not surprising Tottie scooted." Denzil looked out across the unvarying scene with increasing dissatisfaction. "Lots of chaps have the Turk in them. They'd like to veil their women," he returned, with no particular interest in the subject. He was watching without appreciation the wonderful effects of the sunshine on the inimitable blending of colour in the veld, and the slowly moving shadows that swept across it where the clouds veiled the golden light. A soft wind was blowing, a wind that had the warm feel of the spring in it with its promise of early summer. The Cape winter was passing, going its way unmarked, even as it had come. But here on the high veld the nights were cold yet, and the crispness of the mornings still reminded a man of the feel of an English spring. Van Bleit examined his finger-nails--which was a habit with him--and laughed. "That would be all right if the women didn't prefer being looked at," he said. "The Turk will have to awake to the fact one day that the veil is out of fashion." It was afternoon when they reached the shanty. They had had three stoppages on the journey owing to the breaking of different parts of the harness, that was, native fashion, repaired with string. The horses were outspanned, and left to graze, while the coloured driver flung himself face downwards in the full rays of the sun to sleep for a couple of hours before making the return journey. Van Bleit settled with him, and bade him return for them in three days. "Make it four," urged Lawless. "You're in a devil of a hurry to quit."