“But you saw that bit of a scrap in The Lucky Digger, between one of these parties as is murdered and the toff from the Old Country.”
“I was in the bar.”
“Well, there was very bad blood between them—you see that? And I heard the toff tell Zahn that the next time ’e saw ’im he’d about stiffen ’im. I heard it, or words to that effect. Now, I want you to bear witness that what I say is true.”
“Yes, yes, I remember the time. You mean Mr. Scarlett, the man who discovered the field.”
“There’s wheels within wheels, my boy. They were rivals for the same girl. She jilted young Zahn when this new man took up the running. Bad blood, very bad blood, indeed.”
“But is he dead? Has there been a murder at all? Collusion, sir, collusion. Suppose the escort quietly appropriated the gold and effaced themselves, they’d be rich men for life, sir.”
“You’re right, Mr. Ferrars. Until the bodies are found, sir, there is no reason to believe there has been murder.”
At this moment the local bellman appeared on the scene, and stopped conversation with the din of his bell. Subsequently, after the manner of his kind, and in a thin nasal voice, he proclaimed as follows:—“Five hundred pound reward—Five hundred pound reward.—It being believed—that a foul murder has been committed—on the persons of—Isaac Zahn, Peter Heafy, William Johnson, James Kettle—citizens of Timber Town—a search-party will be formed—under the leadership of Mr. Charles Caxton—volunteers will be enrolled at the Town Hall—a large reward being offered—for the apprehension of the murderers—Five hundred pound—Five hundred pound!”
He then tucked his bell under his arm and walked off, just as unconcernedly as if he were advertising an auction-sale.
By this time a crowd of two or three hundred people had assembled. A chair was brought from The Lucky Digger, and upon this a stout man clambered to address the people. But what with his vehemence and gesticulations, and what with the smallness of his platform, he stepped to the ground several times in the course of his speech; therefore a lorry, a four-wheeled vehicle not unlike a tea-tray upon four wheels, was brought, and while the orator held forth effusively from his new rostrum, the patient horse stood between the shafts, with drooping head.