‘Shortly. You understand enough of mining law, I presume, to see that though we can take up a Reward Claim, we can’t work it with two men. I see by your hands—excuse me—that the manual part of mining is not unknown to you. We _must_ take in some one. I prefer, and so does Jack, to work with gentlemen, so I’m prepared to offer you such shares as may be further agreed between us when the allocation takes place.’
‘It sounds too good to be true,’ said Newstead. ‘You are not going to lure us into a cavern and slay us for our property, are you? But one can’t help regarding oneself as the modernest Aladdin. In any case, I say, done with you, magician or no! and so does Denzil, if I know him. Allow me to help pack, and follow, as Dick Burton used to write to his wife—the pay portion of the injunction must await developments.’
The journey was resumed, the saddle was removed from the leader’s back, and placed in the waggonette, as were also the effects of the new associates. Apparently willing workers, they proved themselves cheery and entertaining companions.
Unaffected in manner and simple of speech, it was yet apparent, though they conversed on perfectly equal terms with old Jack as with the Commissioner, that they had moved in the _haute volée_ of English society.
They made no statement to that effect, but it was indirectly plain to the Commissioner, himself an aristocrat by birth and social surroundings, that such was the case. It was many a year since he had been ‘home,’ yet, nevertheless, the merry chatter of these youngsters, which, though careless, was redolent of the best English ‘form,’ was refreshing in the life of a man who, though long absent from the old country, was yet in full sympathy with her ideas and traditions. So they fared on for the long remaining hours of the day, until they reached the spinifex flat, immediately adjacent to the base of the hill which had been so long within sight, but without reaching the gradually ascending ‘rise’ which led to a plateau slightly above the level of the plain. Here they halted—to feed the horses and await the rising of the moon—after which the journey would recommence.
‘We can’t afford to take no risks,’ said the old man; ‘we might have another party comin’ along from “the Cross” way. And if they got there first—some men’s that smart, you’d a’most swear as they could smell the gold—there’d be a barney over it; and law, likely as not, which you never know how it might turn out. So I’m thinkin’ it’s best to go on, and collar right away—that’ll put an end to all bother in one act.’