"You go on with the search then, and find them." "There is no need," said Ingleborough coldly; "those two know what they're about." He was wrong in saying "two," for the under-searcher now continued the examination, and Anson's eyes were screwed-up and twinkled again upon seeing the man give up at the end of another two minutes and shrug his shoulders.
"No go," he said, turning to his companion.

"Someone has been too clever here." "Look again," said his chief.
"No: I shan't look any more.

I've done." West's eyes were resting upon the Kaffir, and he saw the man draw in a deep slow breath which made his broad chest expand, retaining the air for a minute and then slowly ejecting it.
"Ah! you'll never make a first-class searcher, Jem," said the head man.
"I never did profess to be so smart as you are," retorted the other sharply.
"No, Jemmy, you never did," said his chief; "but you ought to have found something here." "Why, you don't think he has any about him, do you ?" cried the man, who was staggered by his chief's cool, confident way of speaking.
"Yes, I do," said the chief, "and so does Mr Ingleborough there.

Don't you, sir ?" Ingleborough nodded shortly, and West saw the Kaffir's eyes flash, while when he turned to Anson he saw that his fellow-clerk's face looked cold and hard.
But Anson's aspect changed the next moment, as soon as he saw he was observed, and he said, with a broad grin: "Wish I was a betting man: I could easily win half-a-crown or two over this." But it struck West that there was a ring of insincerity in the tone of his voice, and the hard look began to come like a grey shadow over his fat pink cheeks as he saw the chief searcher go closer up to the Kaffir, bring his hands down heavily upon the man's shoulders, and stand facing him and looking him full in the eyes.
There was utter silence now.

The Kaffir stood for a moment firmly gazing back into his white holder's eyes; but it manifestly required a strong effort, and West felt sure that he saw a quiver like a shadow of dread run down the black, making his knees slightly shake.
The whole thing was momentary, and the looker-on could not feel sure.
Then the searcher spoke.
"You're a clever one," he said, with a harsh laugh, "and you don't mind hurting yourself to do a bit of the illicit.