"Syb no tell." "But why not?"
The matter-of-course question appeared to fill Kruger Bobs with
amazement.
"Boss make night march," he answered. "She may not care to have me.
Still, we'll ride out there with you in the morning."
"Boss?"
"Mr. Carew and myself."
Kruger Bobs looked hurt. In hot excitement, the black fingers closed
on a fold of the brown sleeve.
"Kruger Bobs go, too?"
"What makes you want to go?"
"Syb dere, Boss."
"I don't see what difference that makes," Weldon said reflectively.
Once more Kruger Bobs turned coy.
"Boss go see his vrouw; me go see Syb," he explained briefly.
Weldon's laugh astonished him; still more Weldon's answer.
"Oh, Kruger Bobs, you love-struck calf! Because you're in love with
Syb, do you think it follows that I am in love with Miss Mellen?"
Kruger Bobs plotted geometrical problems with his left toe.
"Syb say," he replied at length. Then he raised his eyes from his
problem. "Boss vrouw good," he ventured persuasively.
Weldon laughed again.
"So we all think. Mr. Carew knows her much better than I do, though,
and Miss Mellen would be hurt, if he didn't go out to see her.
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