‘It is a great pleasure to me, as you may believe, to work with men of this sort. No doubt we are mutually helpful—their high spirits, and sanguine anticipations, tend to raise mine, which my experience (not to mention that of old Jack) moderates. We have been, since we forgathered, as Scotch people say, a cheerful and congenial party, destined, I think, to become firm friends and attached comrades in the future.’
The afternoon was well advanced when Newstead made his appearance, having come quietly along, sparing his horses, as he had already learned to do since his arrival in Australia. Mr. Banneret had finished his letter and his walk; was therefore not disinclined to have a companion with whom to discuss the situation. He was pleased to find that a share of the only available bedroom had been engaged for him, and deposited his personal property therein with unconcealed satisfaction.
‘One can’t help being childishly pleased with the certainty of a real bed, and a dinner to match, again,’ he said. ‘Denzil and I have roughed it as thoroughly as any two “new chums” (which is Australian for English here), and it’s done us no end of good. But there’s a time for all things, and after six months’ hard graft, with a trifle of hunger and thirst thrown in, it’s awfully jolly to come to a land of chops and steaks, sheets and blankets, with a prospect of yet higher life in the near future. But on that we must not dwell yet a while. I suppose you made it all right with the Bank?’
‘Yes; the nuggets are safe for the present, and I can draw against them to any reasonable amount. That’s consoling. Our next move will be to fix up about the lease, and so on. I’ve just bought the W.A. Act and Regulations, which I needn’t tell you it is vitally necessary to be well up in, on a goldfield. Any big show is sure to be well scrutinised by the “jumper” fraternity, and any joint in the armour pierced, if possible. Litigation, too, always means delay, if not loss and anxiety.’
‘Only as long as it will take us to complete arrangements. Then you return to the claim, “Waters’ Reward.” We must call it after old Jack, who has certainly the best title to it, after doing such a “perish,” as he would say, in its discovery. You’ll see it all in the paper to-morrow morning, for, of course, I’ve been attacked by the ferocious reporter of the “Dry, dry desolate Land” (with apologies to Mr. Kipling).’