There was a sharp knock at the door, and the "Come in" was answered by Constable Hope—his face flushed. He was evidently very excited. The idea—on which for long he had been brooding—had come to maturity!
"I have a plan, sir, which will save us, I think. To carry it out I shall require gold, within limits, but the more the better."
Gold! The Commandant should have large quantities, the proceeds of royalty collections. Hi-u Bill pricked up his ears, bethought him of the fact, and asked directly,
"What have you done with all your gold?"
"I've had it buried. The plan of the exact spot will reach the authorities if we go under. But Forty Mile royalty came in to-day and has not yet been buried. How much do you want?" he asked. Constable Hope's heart gave a great leap as he realized he was going to be trusted.
"At least twenty thousand dollars, sir. Down River gold will do."
"Your plan will take that much?"
"I shall need that much, sir, but shall return it all, or nearly all."
"Very good, here it is." With the words the Commandant took a bag of gold out of a rough chest and handed it to the policeman.
"Thank you, sir, I——"