He had been gone ten minutes or so, when again a step came along; the flap was lifted, and without a word the youngster re-entered, drew the gin-case up opposite Hardy, and took a long steady look at him. To Hardy’s “Hallo! what’s up?” he returned no direct answer, but his eyes, which before had borne a calm, uninterested look, now shone with an eager brilliancy that could not fail to attract attention. His olive-brown face was pale, almost white now, and when he did speak it was, though slowly, with evident excitement, and he coughed once or twice as if feeling a dryness in the throat.
“The chaps say you are broke,” he said.
“Dead broke!” Hardy replied wonderingly.
“Have you anything left?”
“Nothing—absolutely nothing!”
“Where’s your claim?”
“Going to-morrow!”
The youngster shook his head and smiled faintly. He was so evidently in earnest that Hardy submitted in simple wonder to the cross-examination.
“Have you found any stones?”
“Not five pounds’ worth in ten months!”