Frank Scott came forward and made arrangements for the payment of the sum he had offered. Within five minutes he was offered an advance of twenty-five pounds for his bargain, which put him in good humour, though he declined it. I may as well say here, since we are soon to say farewell to Bendigo, that the claim yielded him double the amount of his investment, and though this was not up to his expectations, he had no reason to regret his purchase.
The little crowd of miners were just separating when two new-comers appeared on the scene. They were the well-matched pair who had met earlier in the morning at the deserted cabin. For convenience’ sake we will call them Colson and Ropes, the former being the man who had stolen the nugget, as he supposed.
“What’s all this crowd?” said Colson, in a tone of curiosity.
Ropes put the question to Tom Lewis, who chanced to be passing.
“Haven’t you heard about the nugget?” asked Lewis.
“What nugget?” asked Colson innocently.
“That slab-sided Yankee, Obed Stackpole, found a nugget last night—a regular monster—and he’s been selling his claim. I bid for it, but I didn’t bid high enough.”
“Where’s the nugget?” asked Colson eagerly.
“In charge of the commissioner, who will send it under escort to Melbourne.”
Colson expected this intelligence. Still he looked downcast. The chance of getting hold of it under such circumstances seemed very small.