Yet even while they were considering on a magnanimous course of action, the object of their sympathy turned his leering eyes upon them.
"I'll best ye yet!" he cried triumphantly, holding his treasure at arm's length that all might look. "I've got as much of this stuff as'll keep the battery going for six months. I'll see that Roxton closes down on your wash to-night, I will. I'll starve you out o' the Flat like rats, quick an' lively too."
Now Roxton, the battery owner, was like many other humbler men, heavily in debt to the publican, who along with his other duties acted the part of money-lender in the township. It was quite possible therefore that Macguire could make good his threat about the closing down of the battery, though had he known it, that would at this time scarcely have affected the partners of the Golden Promise to any extent, the bulk of their visible wash having been already treated. Still, the brutal malignancy of the man's intentions was unmistakable, and a shudder of disgust seized Bob, nipping effectually the finer sentiments he had harboured but a moment before. Mackay eyed the jeering man with a look in which a just anger and a wholesome contempt were struggling for mastery.
"You're nothing but a sneaking thief, Macguire," he said, with forced calmness. "An' for twa pins I'd come doon an' burst in a few mair o' your ribs. I'll certainly hae to settle you when I am forced to tackle you again. But what are ye makin' a' the fuss aboot, anyhow? You're clutching to a bit o' clay as if it were a golden nugget. Your battery wouldna thrive vera weel on that sort o' stuff, I'm thinkin'."
Macguire was on the point of launching out into further invective, when his eye happened to glance at his treasure. He hesitated, stammered, and his rotund face grew livid.
"Put the water you have ready on your heid instead o' into the gold-pan," advised Mackay, kindly, "it'll maybe keep ye from gettin' apoplexy."
An inarticulate yell of mingled dismay and fury broke from the lips of the too-previous exulter. Hurling the stone from him, he turned and rushed blindly into his tent. Eagerly his followers picked up the rejected specimen; it was dull and dead clay, showing no trace of the precious metal. Muttering maledictions, they fled after their leader.
It quickly became whispered about that all was not as had been hoped at Number 2 shaft, and despite the reticence of those principally concerned, strange rumours were soon current regarding the extraordinary phantom gold formation which had just been struck. Then Macguire raved more wildly than ever, for his chances of disposing of the mine on a sight valuation to some innocent buyer were now hopelessly ruined. He railed savagely against Nature, and all mankind in general; even his own alike suffering and yet sympathetic followers were not spared the flood of his abuse. A trial parcel of the ore was sent to the battery in the hope that whatever free gold contained in the substance might be saved by the mercury, but only further disappointment resulted. Its cohesive nature was such that the stamps merely flattened it like putty, and the whole went over the sluice-box in a dense mass of coagulated slimes, leaving not a trace of gold behind in the riffles.
When Mackay heard this he was filled with misgivings; he had never doubted the efficacy of the stamps as a crushing agency, and he feared for the working of Bob's process on a large scale when hand manipulation would be impossible. Bob, however, seemed in no way disturbed.