This pompous person was succeeded by a tall, upright man, with the bearing of a Viking and the voice of a clarion. His speech was short and to the point. If he had to go alone, he would search for the missing men; but he asked for help. “I am a surveyor,” he said. “I knew none of these men who are lost or murdered, but I appeal to those of you who are diggers to come forward and help. I appeal to the townsfolk who knew young Zahn to rally round me in searching for their friend. I appeal for funds, since the work cannot be done without expense; and at the conclusion of this meeting I shall enrol volunteers in the Town Hall.”
He stood down, and Mr. Crewe rose to address the crowd, which had now assumed such proportions that it stretched from pavement to pavement of the broad street. All the shops were closed, and people were flocking from far and wide to the centre of the town.
“Men of Timber Town,” said Mr. Crewe, “I’m not so young as I was, or I would be the first to go in search of these missing men. My days as a bushman are over, I fear; but I shall have much pleasure in giving £20 to the expenses of the search-party. All I ask is that there be no more talking, but prompt action. These men may be tied to trees in the bush; they may be starving to death while we talk here. Therefore let us unite in helping the searchers to get away without delay.”
A movement was now made towards the Town Hall, and while the volunteers of the search-party were being enrolled two committees of citizens were being formed in the Town Clerk’s office—the one to finance, and the other to equip, the expedition.
While these things were going forward, there stood apart from the crowd four men, who conversed in low voices.
“It’s about time, mates, we got a bend on.”
“Dolly, you make me tired. I ask you, was there ever such a chance. All the traps in the town will be searching for these unfortunate missin’ men. We’ll have things all our own way, an’ you ask us to ‘git.’”
“’Strewth, Garstang, you’re a glutton. S’far’s I’m concerned, I’ve got as much as I can carry. I don’t want no more.”
The four comrades in crime had completely changed their appearance. They were dressed in new, ready-made suits, and wore brand-new hats, besides which they had shaved their faces in such a manner as to make them hardly recognisable.
Dolphin, who, besides parting with his luxuriant whiskers and moustache, had shaved off his eyebrows, remarked, with the air of a man in deep thought, “But there’s no steamer leaving port for two days—I forgot that. It seems we’ll have to stay that long, at any rate.”