Master of the Game

"That's settled then." Jamie smiled. "Shall we say ten o'clock in the morning?"

After the tall, elegantly dressed guest left, Margaret cleared away the table and washed the dishes, in a complete daze. He must think I'm an idiot. She went over and over in her mind everything she had contributed to the conversation. Nothing. She had been completely tongue-tied. Why was that? Hadn't she waited on hundreds of men in the store without becoming a stupid fool? Of course they had not looked at her the way Ian Travis had. Men all have the devil in them, Margaret. I'll not let them corrupt your innocence. Her father's voice echoed in her mind. Could that be it? The weakness and trembling she had felt when the stranger had looked at her? Was he corrupting her innocence? The thought of it sent a delicious thrill through her body. She looked down at the plate she had dried three times and sat down at the table. She wished her mother were still alive.

Her mother would have understood. Margaret loved her father, but sometimes she had the oppressive feeling that she was his prisoner. It worried her that he never allowed a man to come near her. I'll never get married, Margaret thought. Not until he dies. Her rebellious thoughts filled her with guilt, and she hurriedly left the room and went into the store, where her father sat behind a desk, working on his accounts.

"Good night, Father."

Van der Merwe took off his gold-framed spectacles and rubbed his eyes before he raised his arms to embrace his daughter good-night. Margaret did not know why she pulled away.

Alone in the curtained-off alcove that served as her bedroom, Margaret studied her face in the small, round mirror that hung on the wall. She had no illusions about her looks. She was not pretty. She was interesting-looking. Nice eyes. High cheekbones. A good figure. She drew nearer to the mirror. What had Ian Travis seen when he looked at her? She began getting undressed. And Ian Travis was in the room with her, watching her, his eyes burning into her. She stepped out of her muslin drawers and camisole and stood naked before him. Her hands slowly caressed the swell of her breasts and felt her hardening nipples. Her fingers slid down across her flat belly and his hands became entwined with hers, moving slowly downward. They were between her legs now, gently touching, stroking, rubbing, harder now, faster and faster until she was caught up in a frantic whirlpool of sensation that finally exploded inside her and she gasped his name and fell to the bed.

They rode out in Jamie's carriage, and he was amazed once more at the changes that had taken place. Where before there had been only a sea of tents, now there were substantial-looking houses, constructed of timber with roofs of corrugated iron or thatch.

"Klipdrift seems very prosperous," Jamie said as they rode along the main street.

"I suppose it would be interesting for a newcomer," Margaret said. And she thought, I've hated it until now.

They left the town and drove out toward the mining camps along the Vaal River. The seasonal rains had turned the countryside into an enormous, colorful garden, filled with the luxuriant bush Karroo, and the spreading Rhenoster bush and heaths and diosmas plants that could be found nowhere else in the world. As they drove past a group of prospectors, Jamie asked, "Have there been any big diamond finds lately?"

"Oh, yes, a few. Every time the news gets out, hundreds of new diggers come pouring in. Most of them leave poor and heartbroken." Margaret felt she had to warn him of the danger here. "Father would not like to hear me say this, but I think it's a terrible business, Mr. Travis."

"For some, probably," Jamie agreed. "For some."

"Do you plan to stay on a while?"

"Yes."

Margaret felt her heart singing. "Good." Then added quickly, "Father will be pleased."

They drove around all morning, and from time to time they stopped and Jamie chatted with prospectors. Many of them recognized Margaret and spoke respectfully. There was a warmth to her and an easy friendliness that she did not reveal when she was around her father.

As they drove on, Jamie said, "Everyone seems to know you."

She blushed. "That's because they do business with Father. He supplies most of the diggers."

Jamie made no comment. He was keenly interested in what he was seeing. The railroad had made an enormous difference. A new combine called De Beers, named after the farmer in whose field the first diamond discovery was made, had bought out its chief rival, a colorful entrepreneur named Barney Barnato, and De Beers was busily consolidating the hundreds of small claims into one organization. Gold had been discovered recently, not far from Kimberley, along with manganese and zinc. Jamie was convinced this was only the beginning, that South Africa was a treasure-house of minerals. There were incredible opportunities here for a man with foresight.

When Jamie and Margaret returned, it was late afternoon. Jamie stopped the carriage in front of Van der Merwe's store and said, "I would be honored if you and your father would be my guests at dinner tonight."

Margaret glowed. "I'll ask Father. I do so hope he'll say yes. Thank you for a lovely day, Mr. Travis."

And she fled.

The three of them had dinner in the large, square dining room of the new Grand Hotel.

The room was crowded, and Van der Merwe grumbled, "I don't see how these people can afford to eat here."

Jamie picked up a menu and glanced at it. A steak cost one pound four shillings, a potato was four shillings and a piece of apple pie ten shillings.

"They're robbers!" Van der Merwe complained. "A few meals here and a man could eat himself into the poorhouse."

Jamie wondered what it would take to put Salomon van der Merwe in the poorhouse. He intended to find out. They ordered, and Jamie noticed that Van der Merwe ordered the most expensive items on the menu. Margaret ordered a clear soup. She was too excited to eat. She looked at her hands, remembered what they had done the night before and felt guilty.

"I can afford dinner," Jamie teased her. "Order anything you like."

She blushed. "Thank you, but I'm - I'm not really very hungry."

Van der Merwe noticed the blush and looked sharply from Margaret to Jamie. "My daughter is a rare girl, a rare girl, Mr. Travis."

Jamie nodded. "I couldn't agree with you more, Mr. van der Merwe."

His words made Margaret so happy that when their dinner was served, she could not even eat the soup. The effect Ian Travis had on her was incredible. She read hidden meanings into his every word and gesture. If he smiled at her, it meant he liked her a lot; if he frowned, it meant he hated her. Margaret's feelings were an emotional thermometer that kept going up and down.

"Did you see anything of interest today?" Van der Merwe asked Jamie.

"No, nothing special," Jamie said casually.

Van der Merwe leaned forward. "Mark my words, sir, this is going to be the fastest-growing area in the world. A man would be smart to invest here now. The new railway's going to turn this place into a second Cape Town."

"I don't know," Jamie said dubiously. "I've heard of too many boomtowns like this going bust. I'm not interested in putting my money into a ghost town."

"Not Klipdrift," Van der Merwe assured him. "They're finding more diamonds all the time. And gold."

Jamie shrugged. "How long will that last?"

"Well, nobody can be sure of that, of course, but - "

"Exactly."

"Don't make any hasty decisions," Van der Merwe urged. "I wouldn't like to see you lose out on a great opportunity."

Jamie thought that over. "Perhaps I am being hasty. Margaret, could you show me around again tomorrow?"

Van der Merwe opened his mouth to object, then closed it. He remembered the words of Mr. Thorenson, the banker: He walked in here and deposited a hundred thousand pounds, cool as you please, Salomon, and he said there'd be a lot more comin'.

Greed got the better of Van der Merwe. "Of course she could."

The following morning, Margaret put on her Sunday dress, ready to meet Jamie. When her father walked in and saw her, his face turned red. "Do you want the man to think you're some kind of fallen woman - dressin' up to attract him? This is business, girl. Take that off and put on your workin' clothes."

"But, Papa - "

"Do as I say!"

She did not argue with him. "Yes, Papa."

Van der Merwe watched Margaret and Jamie drive away twenty minutes later. He wondered if he could be making a mistake.

This time Jamie headed the carriage in the opposite direction. There were exciting signs of new developments and building everywhere. If the mineral discoveries keep up, Jamie thought - and there was every reason to believe they would - there is more money to be made here in real estate than in diamonds or gold. Klipdrift will need more banks, hotels, saloons, shops, brothels... The list was endless. So were the opportunities.

Jamie was conscious of Margaret staring at him. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, no," she said, and quickly looked away.

Jamie studied her now, and noticed the radiance about her. Margaret was aware of his closeness, his maleness. He sensed her feelings. She was a woman without a man.

At noon Jamie drove off the main road down to a wooded area near a stream and stopped under a large baobab tree. He had had the hotel pack a picnic lunch. Margaret put down a tablecloth, unpacked the basket and spread out the food. There was cold roast lamb, fried chicken, yellow saffron rice, quince jam and tangerines and peaches and soetekoekjes, almond-topped spice cookies.

"This is a banquet!" Margaret exclaimed. "I'm afraid I don't deserve all this, Mr. Travis."

"You deserve much more," Jamie assured her.

Margaret turned away, busying herself with the food.

Jamie took her face between his hands. "Margaret...look at me."

"Oh! Please. I - " She was trembling.

"Look at me."

Slowly she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. He pulled her into his arms, and his lips found hers and he held her close, pressing his body against hers.

After a few moments she struggled free, shook her head and said, "Oh, my God. We mustn't. Oh, we mustn't. We'll go to hell."

"Heaven."

"I'm afraid."

"There's nothing to be afraid of. Do you see my eyes? They can look right inside you. And you know what I see, don't you? You want me to make love to you. And I'm going to. And there's nothing to fear, because you belong to me. You know that, don't you? You belong to me, Margaret. You say it. I belong to Ian. Go on. I - belong - to - Ian."

"I belong - to Ian."

His lips were on hers again, and he began to undo the hooks on the back of her bodice. In a moment she stood naked in the soft breeze, and he lowered her gently down to the ground. And the tremulous passage from girlhood to womanhood became an exciting, soaring experience that made Margaret feel more alive than she had ever felt in her life. I'll remember this moment forever, she thought. The bed of leaves and the warm caressing breeze on her naked skin, the shadow of the baobab tree that dappled their bodies. They made love again, and it was even more wonderful. She thought, No woman could ever love anyone as much as I love this man.

When they were spent, Jamie held her in his strong arms, and she wished she could be there forever. She looked up at him and whispered, "What are you thinking?"

He grinned and whispered back, "That I'm bloody starving."

She laughed, and they rose and had their lunch under the shelter of the trees. Afterward they swam and lay down to let the hot sun dry them. Jamie took Margaret again, and she thought, I want this day to go on forever.

That evening, Jamie and Van der Merwe were seated at a corner table at the Sundowner. "You were right," Jamie announced. "The possibilities here may be greater than I thought."

Van der Merwe beamed. "I knew you were too clever a man not to see that, Mr. Travis."

"What exactly would you advise me to do?" Jamie asked.

Van der Merwe glanced around and lowered his voice. "Just today I got some information on a big new diamond strike north of Pniel. There are ten claims still available. We can divide them up between us. I'll put up fifty thousand pounds for five claims, and you put up fifty thousand pounds for the other five. There are diamonds there by the bushel. We can make millions overnight. What do you think?"

Jamie knew exactly what he thought. Van der Merwe would keep the claims that were profitable and Jamie would end up with the others. In addition, Jamie would have been willing to bet his life that Van der Merwe was not putting up one shilling.

"It sounds interesting," Jamie said. "How many prospectors are involved?"

"Only two."

"Why does it take so much money?" he asked innocently.

"Ah, that's an intelligent question." He leaned forward in his chair. "You see, they know the value of their claim, but they don't have the money to operate it. That's where you and I come in. We give them one hundred thousand pounds and let them keep twenty percent of their fields."

He slipped the twenty percent in so smoothly that it almost went by unnoticed. Jamie was certain the prospectors would be cheated of their diamonds and their money. It would all flow to Van der Merwe.

"We'll have to move fast," Van der Merwe warned. "As soon as word of this leaks out - "

"Let's not lose it," Jamie urged.

Van der Merwe smiled. "Don't worry, I'll have the contracts drawn up right away."

In Afrikaans, Jamie thought.

"Now, there are a few other deals I find very interesting, Ian."

Because it was important to keep his new partner happy, Van der Merwe no longer objected when Jamie asked that Margaret show him around the countryside. Margaret was more in love with Jamie every day. He was the last thing she thought of when she went to bed at night, and the first thing she thought of when she opened her eyes in the morning. Jamie had loosed a sensuality in her that she had not even known existed. It was as though she had suddenly discovered what her body was for, and all the things she had been taught to be ashamed of became glorious gifts to bring pleasure to Jamie. And to herself. Love was a wonderful new country to be explored. A sensual land of hidden valleys and exciting dales and glens and rivers of honey. She could not get enough of it.

In the vast sweep of the countryside, it was easy to find isolated places where they could make love, and each time for Margaret was as exciting as the first time.

The old guilt about her father haunted her. Salomon van der Merwe was an elder of the Dutch Reformed Church, and Margaret knew if he ever found out what she was doing, there would be no forgiveness. Even in the rough frontier community where they lived, where men took their pleasures where they found them, there would be no understanding. There were only two kinds of women in the world - nice girls and whores - and a nice girl did not let a man touch her unless she was married to him. So she would be labeled a whore. It's so unfair, she thought. The giving and taking of love is too beautiful to be evil. But her growing concern finally made Margaret bring up the subject of marriage.

They were driving along the Vaal River when Margaret spoke. "Ian, you know how much I - " She did not know how to go on. "That is, you and I - " In desperation she blurted out, "How do you feel about marriage?"

Jamie laughed. "I'm all for it, Margaret. I'm all for it."

She joined him in his laughter. It was the happiest moment of her life.

On Sunday morning, Salomon van der Merwe invited Jamie to accompany him and Margaret to church. The Nederduits Hervormde Kerk was a large, impressive building done in bastard Gothic, with the pulpit at one end and a huge organ at the other. When they walked in the door, Van der Merwe was greeted with great respect.

"I helped build this church," he told Jamie proudly. "I'm a deacon here."

The service was brimstone and hellfire, and Van der Merwe sat there, rapt, nodding eagerly, accepting the minister's every word.

He's God's man on Sunday, Jamie thought, and the rest of the week he belongs to the devil.

Van der Merwe had placed himself between the two young people, but Margaret was conscious of Jamie's nearness all through the service. It's a good thing - she smiled nervously to herself - that the minister doesn't know what I'm thinking about.

That evening, Jamie went to visit the Sundowner Saloon. Smit was behind the bar serving drinks. His face brightened when he saw Jamie.

"Good evenin', Mr. Travis. What will you have, sir? The usual?"

"Not tonight, Smit. I want to talk to you. In the back room."

"Certainly, sir." Smit scented money to be made. He turned to his assistant. "Mind the bar."

The back room of the Sundowner was no more than a closet, but it afforded privacy. It contained a round table with four chairs, and in the center of the table was a lantern. Smit lit it.

"Sit down," Jamie said.

Smit took a chair. "Yes, sir. How can I help you?"

"It's you I've come to help, Smit."

Smit beamed. "Really, sir?"

"Yes." Jamie took out a long, thin cigar and lighted it. "I've decided to let you live."

An uncertain look flickered over Smit's face. "I - I don't understand, Mr. Travis."

"Not Travis. The name is McGregor. Jamie McGregor. Remember? A year ago you set me up to be killed. At the barn. For Van der Merwe."

Smit was frowning now, suddenly wary. "I don't know what - "

"Shut up and listen to me." Jamie's voice was like a whiplash.

Jamie could see the wheels turning in Smit's mind. He was trying to reconcile the face of the white-haired man in front of him with the eager youth of a year before.

"I'm still alive, and I'm rich - rich enough to hire men to burn this place down and you with it. Are you with me so far, Smit?"

Smit started to protest his ignorance, but he looked into Jamie McGregor's eyes and saw the danger there. Smit said cautiously, "Yes, sir..."

"Van der Merwe pays you to send prospectors to him so he can cheat them out of what they find. That's an interesting little partnership. How much does he pay you?"

There was a silence. Smit was caught between two powerful forces. He did not know which way to jump.

"How much?"

"Two percent," he said reluctantly.

"I'll give you five. From now on when a likely prospect comes in, you'll send him to me. I'll finance him. The difference is that he'll get his fair share and you'll get yours. Did you really think Van der Merwe was paying you two percent of what he made? You're a fool."

Smit nodded. "Right, Mr. Trav - Mr. McGregor. I understand."

Jamie rose to his feet. "Not completely." He leaned over the table. "You're thinking of going to Van der Merwe and telling him about our little conversation. That way, you can collect from both of us. There's only one problem with that, Smit." His voice dropped to a whisper. "If you do, you're a dead man."