The Commissioner looked fixedly at him. The man returned his gaze with a quiet steadiness, at once remote from fear or defiance, yet as one ready for the next movement, whether hostile or pacific.

‘I see you know me, sir,’ said the man; ‘it’s a good few years since we met last. You won’t give me away?’—and here the expression changed [145] ]to that of a hunted creature, which, driven into the last stronghold, has yet the defiant courage of the wolf quarry amid the baying hounds.

‘My good fellow, you don’t suppose I bother myself about likenesses for all the people I’ve met during the last twenty years. I may have seen you, or some one like you, before; but I’m a mine-owner now, and I don’t know that I could swear to you positively. But if you’ve done anything in another colony, under another name, that has brought you into trouble with the police, don’t get into any scrapes here; and if ever you’re arrested again, it won’t be through me, mind that.’

‘God bless you, sir!’ said the man. ‘You’ve not changed. If I’m “copped” again, it won’t matter, for I’ll be a dead man.’

Mr. Banneret walked away—rather hastily, as though he could not trust himself to say more. ‘Poor devil!’ he said to himself—almost audibly—‘I wonder how he will end? The odds are a hundred to one against him; that’s a good paying claim, I hear, and he may—only may—save up his share. He’s afraid to drink for fear of letting out secrets—there’s a price on his head too—a big reward—which some of his own “friends” wouldn’t mind handling. Well, there’s the last of the lawless lot. “’Tis pity of him too,” as the Douglas said.’ It was rather past the hour of the mid-day meal when he regained Pilot Mount, and his face still wore an expression of doubt, almost of anxiety, as he entered the tent, where Mr. Newstead’s lively chatter, and Southwater’s more serious observations about business matters, and the probable [146] ]month’s ‘clean up,’ chased the cloud from his brow.

Not only smoothly, but on the crest of the wave of prosperity, with fair wind, and every sail set, sped on the ‘Last Chance’—that argosy in special favour with gods and men.

[147]
]CHAPTER VI

An unusually large ‘clean up’ was expected for the Christmas month; bets had been made that no yield in Australia would rival it. It was to go down by private escort, that is, by the waggonette belonging to the lease, which would be driven by one of the men employed in the mine, who was a relation of the chief shareholder, and had turned up a few months since. He had been out of luck lately, but being a remarkably good all-round man, a noted bushman, and ‘as hard as nails,’ preferred work as an ordinary hand on the mine to doing nothing, and was earning his £3 or £4 a week by manual labour. Among his accomplishments—and he had many—were the arts of riding and driving. Everything belonging to the use and education of ‘the noble animal’ had been familiar to him since childhood. It was therefore arranged that he should take charge of a four-in-hand team with the precious cargo from Pilot Mount to the nearest railway station; and, with Newstead, who would embrace that opportunity of ‘going home,’ be responsible for the gold until delivered to the Master of the Mint. [148] ]All necessary arrangements were made—the solid, iron-clamped boxes, heavy to lift, mysterious and secret of appearance, were duly weighed, counted, and placed ready to go into the body of the strong though light-running vehicle.

In the early days of the vast goldfields, where now a city stands, with ten thousand inhabitants, having shops and buildings, water supply, electric power and light, the value of each consignment of gold to the ‘port’ was accurately known. There were people who considered this to be imprudent, inasmuch as the fact of there being from thirty to fifty thousand pounds’ worth of gold on any given vehicle, with only four or six men as a defence force, would operate as a powerful temptation to a class of criminals well represented on any rich goldfield. But nothing in the way of violent spoliation had taken place so far. The waterless character of the country had been against highway robbery, rendering such enterprises less difficult to interrupt or follow up. Still, experienced police officers held the opinion that it might not always be so. Miners and companies had grown careless, by reason of the offences at present being confined to trifling sums and localities in the city. It was well known that criminals of the class of ‘Long Jack,’ ‘The Nugget,’ and ‘The Gipsy’ were on the field—daring, not to say desperate men—with a long list of convictions behind them; ready to stick at nothing when a robbery of the first class, such as they would term ‘a big touch,’ might be brought off. A clever disguise, with a ticket for the mail steamer, would land the actors far away [149] ]from all chance of arrest. There were good police and sharp detectives around Pilot Mount, but up to this stage of the field their energies had been comparatively wasted.

Compared with the more important tragedies from time to time enacted in New South Wales and Queensland, the ‘Golden Belt,’ as the auriferous district had been named, was wonderfully free from the higher developments of criminal activity. This, however, in the opinion of the Chief Commissioner of the police department, could not be expected to continue. As the output of gold, increasing in value and volume, swelled the monthly reports, while as yet no adequate scheme of defence had been organised, the more satisfied was he that a novel and original raid on the treasure claim might at any moment be looked for. Perhaps even now one might be maturing.