“Oh, so you're the only ghost then?” asked Tom.
“I'm the only one.”
By this time they had reached the camp. Tom threw some light logs on the fire, which blazed up brightly. As the flames illuminated the face of their captive, Mr. Jenks looked at him, and cried out:
“Why it's Bill Renshaw!”
“That's me,” admitted the man who had played the part of the phantom, “and thunder-turtles! if it ain't Mr. Jenks who was once in the diamond cave with us. Whatever happened to you? I never heard. The others said you got tired and went away.”
“They took me away—defrauded me of my rights!” declared Mr. Jenks, bitterly. “But I'll get them back! To think of Bill Renshaw playing the part of a ghost!”
“They made me do it,” went on the man, somewhat dejectedly. “I wanted to be at work in the cave, but they wouldn't let me.”
“Is this man one of the diamond makers?” asked Tom, in great surprise.
“He is—one of the helpers, though I don't believe he knows the secret of making the gems,” explained Mr. Jenks. “He was one of the men in the cave when I was there before, and he and I struck up quite a friendship; didn't we, Renshaw?”
“That's what, and there ain't no reason why we can't be friends now; that is unless you hold a grudge against me for firing at you. But I only shot in the air, to scare you away. Them's my instructions. I'm supposed to be on guard, and scare away strangers. I'm tired of the work, too, for I don't get my share, and those other fellows, in the cave, get all the money from the diamonds.”