Armitage was very keen to know whether there had been any sensational finds on the Ridge during the year, and all about them. He wanted to know who had been getting good stuff, and said that he had bought Jun's stones in Sydney. The men exclaimed at that.
"I was surprised to hear," John Armitage said, "what happened to the other parcel. You don't mean to say you think Charley Heathfield----?"
"We ain't tried him yet," Watty remarked cautiously, "but the evidence is all against him."
Rouminof thrust himself forward, eager to tell his story. Realising the proud position he might have been in this night with the opal-buyer if he had had his opals, tears gathered in his eyes as he went over it all again.
"Well, of all the rotten luck!" he exclaimed, when Paul had finished. "Have another whisky, Rouminof? But what I can't make out," he added, "is why, if he had the stones, Charley didn't come to me with them.... I didn't buy anything but Jun's stuff before I came up here ... and he just said it was half the find he was showing me. Nice bit of pattern in that big black piece, eh? If Charley had the stones, you'd think he'd 've come along to me, or got Jun, or somebody to come along for him...."
"I don't know about that." George Woods felt for his reasons. "He wouldn't want you--or anybody else to know he'd got them."
"He's got them all right," Ted Cross declared. "You see, I seen him taking Rummy home that night--and he cleared out next morning."
"I guess you boys know best." John Armitage sipped his whisky thoughtfully. "But I'm mad to get the rest of the stones. Tell you the truth, the old man hasn't been too pleased with my buying lately ... and it would put him in no end of a good humour if I could take home with me another packet of gems like the one I got from Jun. Jun knew I was keen to get the stones ... and I can't help thinking ... if he knew they were about, he'd put me in the way of getting them ... or them in my way--somehow. You don't think ... anybody else could have been on the job, and ... put it over on Charley, say...."
His eyes went over the faces of the men lounging against the bar, or standing in groups about him. Michael was lifting his glass to drink, and, for the fraction of a second the opal-buyer's glance wavered on his face before it passed on.