I stood a few minutes surveying the ex-bushranger with admiration, and hardly knowing whether he most deserved a kicking or a word of praise for his falsehoods and perfect disguise. While I was considering the matter, Fred joined us, being awakened by the shrill chuckling of our visitor.
"You have not forgotten how to lie, at all events," I said, "and perhaps the peculiar talent that you display in that line may be of some service to us; so, for the purpose of keeping in practice, all your stories will go undisputed at present."
"Ven a man is perfect in a certain line of things, he don' vant practice, unless he grows rusty, or is out of employment. Now, since I have been connected vid the police force, I've almost forgotten how to speak the truth; and, somehow, I don't think that it agrees vid me; for unless I'se honest I have a fit of blues that lasts me until I've made up to my reckness. Ven can I have the viskey?"
I gave him a glass of strong American whiskey, which would make the tears come into a man's eyes unless his throat was sheathed with tin; but Steel Spring tossed it down, and smacked his lips, as though it was so much water.
"Now, then, I feel like a man vot has found a nugget—perfectly happy for the time being, but miserable as soon as the excitement has passed away, 'cos he don't know when he shall get another."
"When did you reach Ballarat?" Fred asked, as soon as Steel Spring was inclined to hold his tongue.
"This evening. I've been on the road two days, but feel as fresh as a newly-hatched parrot."
"Did Murden tell you what we required of you?" I asked.
"He said something about my getting the vorst thrashing that I ever had in my life, unless I obeyed orders. So here I am, ready to go to vork and do my best."
"Where are you stopping?" I inquired.