"No."
"But Rummy's going down to town soon as he can get, he says."
"Yes."
"Say, Michael, why don't you try scarin' him about losing his stones like Bill Olsen did?"
"I have."
"What does he say?"
"Says," Michael smiled, "the sharks won't get any of his money or opal."
Watty snuffed contemptuously by way of exclamation.
"Well, I'll be getting along," Michael added, and talked away in the direction of his hut.
George and Watty watched his spare figure sway down the road between the rows of huts which formed the Fallen Star township. It was a misty moonlight night, and the huts stood dark against the sheening screen of sky, with here and there a glow of light through open doorways, or small, square window panes.