THE TREASURE FOUND.
Gray's first feeling was one of intense, overpowering relief. That dreadful terror which had beset him left him when he saw that it was indeed Lumley who had followed him. He spoke sharply:
"What do you mean by following me up like this, and skulking in the brambles? It was a dangerous game, mind you! I might have sent a shot into them just now, you know."
Lumley looked at him and laughed.
"You're a pretty fellow to go bushranging. When did you look at your pistols last, eh?"
Gray caught up his pistols and looked at them. The charges had been tampered with. They were useless.
Lumley stood regarding him with vicious amusement in his foxy eyes.
"You'd best have stuck at an honest trade, mate," he said. "You're no good at bushranging at all. It's been too easy to take you in. You needn't look at 'em any more, you know. I made 'em safe enough at Stuart's place."
Gray dropped the pistols on the ground.
"How dare you?" he began in a choked voice. Then he checked himself. "I'll trouble you to tell me what you mean," he said. "And—"