‘To-morrow mightn’t do, sir; and if you’ll take a fool’s advice, you’ll get his back room to sit in, where we can yarn without people hearin’ all we say, and do a bit o’ business, comfortable like. And it is business, my word! You don’t hear the like every day.’
The Commissioner, as became his office, was not in the habit of hobnobbing with miners promiscuously. He was reserved of manner, more affable indeed to the ordinary miners than to his equals, whom he treated with scant courtesy—particularly if his temper was ruffled.
But this man was an exceptional inhabitant of the gold region. Having known him for many years, he was in a position to prove against all comers that he was one of the most energetic, honest, capable workers that he had ever known upon this or other goldfields.
When about to be sold up, through no fault of his own, having gone security for a friend, the Commissioner came forward and provided a guarantee. This prevented the forced sale, after which Jack had a stroke of luck, and repaid every farthing. Since this occurrence he had been what the Commissioner called ‘ridiculously grateful.’
Departing from his ordinary custom, and walking into the ‘Reefer’s Arms,’ he asked the landlord, a burly ex-miner, popularly known as Bill the [5] ]Puddler, ‘if there was any one in the inner parlour?’
‘The shareholders in the “Blue Lookout” had it all the morning—a-settling after their last wash-up—but they’ve just cleared, and you can set there, quiet and comfortable, Commissioner. Why, what’s the matter with you, Jack?’ he continued, looking with sudden interest at the worn limbs and sunken features of the digger.
‘Had the fever at Ding Dong. Want the Commissioner to get me into the hospital—going to make my will first. Send us in a bottle o’ beer, and a bite o’ bread and cheese, and don’t yabber.’
As he spoke, the exhausted man reeled rather than walked along the passage leading to an inner apartment, and opening the door with a show of familiarity, threw himself upon the well-worn sofa, which, with a few chairs of various patterns, and a serviceable table, made up the furniture of the room. Then he closed his eyes as if about to faint.
Mr. Banneret walked quickly towards him, but he put up his hand warningly, and murmured, ‘All right directly. Wake up when Bill’s a-coming; that’s what’s the matter.’
Although the wayfarer closed his eyes and lay as if insensible, he raised himself when the host appeared a few minutes later, and assumed an air of comparative alertness.