"I give you," said Ben, appealing to the crowd for silence—for most of the miners had grown talkative, under the influence of their drink—"I give you a toast. Here's to the tax, and d—— the man that wouldn't d—— it!"
The toast was received with yells of applause, and even when the confusion was at its height, I noticed a small, dark-complexioned man, wearing a blue frock coat with brass buttons, but with no other insignia of office or authority, enter the room.
His presence was not noticed by the crowd, which still continued its revels, until the new comer approached us, when a death-like silence crept over the assembly.
"Good evening, gentlemen," said the dark man, addressing Fred and myself in a courteous manner; "I belive that you are recent arrivals?"
"Not more than three hours since," I replied, returning his salutation.
"I believe you have stated the hours correctly," he returned, dryly; "we live fast, here in Ballarat, yet I think you have outstripped us by your activity."
"No one can regret the circumstance which has taken place more than myself," replied Fred.
"Perhaps not," answered the dark man with a grim smile; and while he was speaking, I noticed that those in the saloon edged towards us for the purpose of hearing our conversation.
"The quarrel was occasioned by a dispute about horses, I believe?" the little man said.
"You are correct in your suppositions," returned Fred.