"My goodness, mates," faltered Bill, in an awed whisper, when he saw the pan, "that is an almighty fine prospect. I reckon it must be twenty-ounce stuff. Where in thunder did ye get it?"
"It came from your shaft, Emu," said Bob. "It's the same deceiving miradgy humbugging material as that you've got in your hand. I've just found out how to bring back the gold after it fades away."
Emu Bill stared in amazement. "Will somebody kindly kick me?" he murmured feebly. "Is my sight goin' back on me again, or is it a real honest fact that hits me on the optic nerve?"
But he was soon led to understand that the gold in the pan was no delusion of the senses—that it was indeed a solid, substantial quantity.
"I takes off my hat to you, Bob," he said, with a little catch in his usually strong voice; and he suited the action to the word. "This'll mean new life to the whole Flat; an' I hope it'll spell fortune to you, my lad. What a pity Macguire's crowd got hitched on alongside the Golden Promise. They'll hit it every time, most likely; an', hang me! if they deserve it."
"We'll keep quiet aboot this discovery until we see how the bold Macguire tackles on to the mirage," said Mackay. "The meeserable thief may have jumped our ground in the Warden's office, for a' we know."
Emu Bill grasped the situation at once. "I'm a thick-head," said he. "Of course that bounder doesn't know; an' he won't know from me nuther. Mums the word, it is; an' what a howlin' joy it will be to see Macguire clutch on to the mirage. But I'll bet my boots, Mac, that the Shadow has busted up his claim-jumping game. I knows the young beggar, I does."
"An' so do I," said Mackay. "But I'll no blame him all the same if he canna accomplish the impossible."
It was now well after midday, and Emu Bill departed to prepare his lunch.