turned to face Jake and went on as though there had been no break in
the conversation.
'While we are still being disgustingly honest with each other, let me
estimate that the Ethiopians would pay as much as a thousand pounds
each for those vehicles. Of course, they would have to be spruced
up.
A coat of paint, and a machine gun in the turret.'
'I'm still listening. 'Jake sank back on the couch.
'I have the buyer lined up and the Vickers machine without which the
cars have no value. You have the guns, vehicles themselves and the
technical know-how to get them working.' Jake was seeing a different
man in Gareth Swales now.
The lazy drawling voice and foppish manner were gone. He spoke crisply
and once again there was the piratical blue sparkle in his eyes.
'I have never worked with a partner before. I always knew I could do
it better on my own but I've had a chance to get a good look at you.
This could be the first time. What do you think?'
'If you cross me, Gareth I will truly roast your chestnuts for you.'
Gareth threw back his head and laughed delightedly. 'I believe you
really would,
Jake!' He crossed the room and offered his hand.
'Equal partners. You put in the cars, and I'll throw in my pile of
goodies everything down the middle?' he asked, and Jake took the
hand.
'Right down the middle he agreed.
'That's enough business for tonight let's meet the ladies.' Jake
suggested that Gareth as a full partner might like to assist in
refitting the engines and painting the body work of the cars, and
Gareth blanched and lit a cheroot.
'Look here, old chap. Don't let's take this equal partners lark too
far. Manual labour isn't really my style at all.'
'I'll have to hire a gang, then.'
'Please don't stint yourself Hire what and who you need.' Gareth waved
the cheroot magnanimously. 'I've got to get down to the docks, grease
a few palms and that sort of thing. Then I'm dining at Government
House this evening, making the contacts that may be useful to us, you
understand?' In a ricksha, bearing the silver champagne bucket full of
Tusker, Gareth appeared at the camp under the mahogany trees the
following morning to find half a dozen blacks labouring under Jake's
supervision. The colour Jake had chosen was a businesslike battleship
grey, and one of the cars had received its first coat. The effect was
miraculous.
The vehicle had been transformed from a slovenly wreck into a
formidable-looking war machine.
'By Jove,' Gareth enthused. 'Even I am impressed. The old
Ethiops will go wild.' He walked along the line of cars, and stopped
at the end. 'Only three being painted. What about these two?'
'I
explained to you. There are only three runners.' lOok, old chap.
