Lawless was immeasurably relieved. Tottie had done all the cooking their simple household had required; he had very little idea of the art himself. But he knew where the cooking utensils were kept, and supplied them; and the young man set about making a stew that smelt very appetising as it heated over the fire. The others sprawled before the hearth and drank while they waited for the meal. Before it was ready a further interruption occurred that made an addition to the numbers already assembled. It was indeed a night of surprises for the man who acted as host to these unexpected and none too welcome guests. The new-comer made his appearance on horseback, and rode right up to the window before anyone suspected his approach. The sound of his horse's hoofs was deadened by the noisy chaff round the fire. He looked in through the open window upon the rowdy group, and, leaning from the saddle, gripped the sill with his hand. "Hallo, there!" he shouted in a cheery voice. "Got room for another? I've lost my bearings on this tractless waste, and seeing your uitspan calculated some sort of hospitality was going forward. I'm going to stable my mount. May I come in? I'm Tom Hayhurst." Lawless started, and looked round. The name conveyed much to him. It conveyed something to several others present; they looked up with a grin of welcome. "Good old Tom!" said one man. "I haven't seen him since we were at the poor man's diggings together." Tom Hayhurst's face beamed in upon them. "Who's baas here?" he asked. "I am," Lawless answered quietly, stepping forward to the aperture. "There's room for your mount in the stable. Come in." "Right!" the young man answered. "I don't know you from the devil. Got a lantern, anyone?" Someone handed him a lantern through the window, and he rode away, whistling. One of the men laughed. "Old Tom has been missing lately. Wonder where he's been?" he mused. "There are plenty of us can't always account for our movements," someone else answered, amid a fresh guffaw of mirth. "But wherever he's been in the interval, he's always good company. Say, baas, you've got a picnic to-night." Lawless made no reply. The name of Tom Hayhurst had roused memories, had taken him back to a lonely bungalow in Cape Town, where a man had related to him briefly how Tom Hayhurst had failed him in an important mission. He had been for wringing Tom Hayhurst's neck at the time. He did not feel especially friendly towards him on that particular night; but Hayhurst had happened upon his dwelling out of the darkness, and claimed his hospitality, as was customary in the veld. He moved back to the ring round the fire, and seated himself on an upturned box and stared thoughtfully into the flame. The arrival of the new-comer was strangely annoying to him.