“Rhodes, probably. He can afford it,” Harry said.
Barney looked at him.
“A bob will earn you a quid that he didn’t leave so much as a tanner,” he said quietly, and asked the barman out of simple curiosity, although he was fairly sure. But the barman hadn’t noticed; he had been busy at the other end of the bar and had been as surprised as anyone to find the unusual donation in the box.
Still, Barney would have won his bet. It was Charles Rudd who had dropped the two one-pound notes in the box when Rhodes wasn’t looking. One pound had been for him and the other for his partner, and both had been in appreciation to the gods for having made the pumping machine work; as well as for keeping it working smoothly in the future. It was cheap at the price, Rudd thought, and the fact that Rhodes was unaware of the gift would probably make the gods that much more cooperative. Charles Rudd was quite perceptive, especially after two double whiskeys.
And the pennies became shillings, and the shillings became pounds, and the pounds began to multiply, until after several months in Kimberley, Barney Isaacs came back to their tent one night, and as he and Harry sat down to some supper, Barney broke the news.
“I bought a horse and cart today,” he said conversationally, quite as if he bought horses and carts almost daily.
Harry almost choked on his mealies. “You what?”
“I said, I bought a horse and cart today.”
“Why, for God’s sake?”
Barney sighed. “D’you remember when I first came to Kimberley I told you about followin’ this kopje walloper in his cart all mornin’?”
“I remember something but I don’t remember what,” Harry said shortly. He still could not imagine the faintest reason for Barney spending good money on a horse and cart. Horses ate food the same as humans, only a lot more. “So?”
“So,” Barney said equably, not at all disturbed by Harry’s attitude, “I noticed somethin’ that mornin’ that I never forgot. So when I heard the old walloper wanted to sell his horse and cart and go home, I remembered what it was I hadn’t forgot.”
“And just what did you remember you hadn’t forgot?” Harry asked sardonically.
“I remembered when I was followin’ him that mornin’, that old walloper never directed that horse. He just sat back, half asleep, and the horse made the stops. He’d pass up the yards they never stopped at, and just stop at the ones he knew the old man always went to.” Barney raised a finger for emphasis. “And just about everywhere that old horse stopped, the old man made himself a buy.”
“So what’s that got to do with you?”
“It’s got this,” Barney said intently. “I always figured when we got three hundred quid together, I was goin’ to have a try at bein’ a walloper. Now we got it and a bit more, even after buyin’ the horse, the cart, the old man’s loupe, and his scale. I even bought his belt,” Barney added. “You taught me enough about stones to get started; the rest I can learn as I go.”
Harry considered his brother in silence for several moments before he spoke. “No more culling?”
“Not for a while,” Barney said confidently. “The next cullin’ I do is goin’ to be on our own dirt. Or I’ll do the diggin’ and you can cull; it makes no difference.”
“With the three hundred pounds we have, we could hire Kaffirs and rent claims right now,” Harry pointed out. He was intrigued by Barney’s planning. He had thought they were doing fine, but it was obvious that his younger brother had far greater ambitions. He wondered for a moment where those ambitions would eventually end. “If you want the pleasure of breaking your back down in that hole, you can have it. I can work at my job mornings and sort afternoons.”
Barney shook his head. “No. Two things: first, it’s good you’re workin’ at a trader’s. I can get a reasonable price for any good stones I buy. And second, three hundred quid ain’t nowhere near enough to get us the claims I want.”
“And which claims do you want?”
Barney grinned. “I want the ones that are producin’ diamonds, and I mean diamonds!” He winked. “And I’ll know which ones those are after I been buyin’ and sellin’ for a few weeks…”
After paying for the equipment he had purchased, as well as for the horse and cart, and after arranging at the same stable for the horse’s keep, Barney’s first stop the following morning was at the sorting yard where he had first started going through already culled dirt. The bearded man, Jerry Weston, was still at the sorting table with the same red-haired partner. The two looked up as the horse came into the yard. Weston stared with surprise to see Barney at the reins.
“Hello, Barney.” Through his turn with Harry at the Paris Hotel, both brothers had become well-known by this time in the mining camp. “The old man hire you to drive for him today? Isn’t he feeling well?”
“Hello, Jerry. No, the rig is mine. I bought it off the old man yesterday. He’s off back home.” Barney grinned. “He got rich off you guys. Now it’s my turn.”
“You going to become a kopje walloper?”
“Goin’ to try, anyways,” Barney said. “You got anythin’ for me?”
Weston laughed. “Don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Don’t have time to waste. You got anythin’ to sell?”
“Well,” Weston said, quite as if he had given the matter much thought, “I’ve got a book to sell, if you’re in the market. It’s called Macbeth; wrote by a bloke named Shakespeare, to quote the seller. We’ve all read it — several times, as a matter of fact — but I understand you’ve gotten smart and rent out the books, now. Certainly you could use another volume in your library.”
“What d’you want for it?”
Weston pretended to think. His redheaded partner bit back a smile and bent back to his work, listening.
“Well,” Weston said, “let’s see. You gave the book in trade for the right to cull some dirt of ours. What you found in the dirt earned you the princely sum of sixpence, as I recall. With the way prices keep going up in this town, I’d say a pound for the book would be about right.”
“I’ll give you thruppence,” Barney said without hesitation.
Weston looked shocked. “Even less than your sixpence? Barney, Barney! If that’s the way you’re going to try and buy diamonds, nobody will sell to you.”
“Never mind how I buy diamonds,” Barney said flatly. “We’re talkin’ about somethin’ I know about — books. I’ll make that four-pence, but that’s it.” He thought a moment, frowning. “Look! How many of you guys read that book?”
“Three,” Weston said, going along with whatever Barney had in mind, just for the fun of it. “Me, Mac, and Red here.”
“And you each read it a couple of times, you said.”
“It’s the truth. I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” Red coughed and bent farther over the table. Weston bent a hurt look at his partner. Barney was going on with his analysis, paying no attention to them.
“Now, say it took you each three days to read it in your spare time. It stays light until eight, say, and nobody’s goin’ to waste kerosene readin’ after that. Besides, everybody’s too tired. So say three days. That’s eighteen days between you. If you was rentin’ the book, you’d have paid eighteen pence, only I didn’t think o’ that in time. So take off the tanner you figure I sold the book for in the first place, and by rights you should be givin’ me back the book plus a shilling.” He looked at Weston steadily. “Fourpence is generous.”
“Barney,” Weston said fervently, “you are far too much for me! Come around tomorrow and you can have your book back without payment of any kind — on either side, that is.”