"Do you think he's a thief?"

"I think he's willing to be. He heard us whistling, and thought we'd found something."

"We are safe from robbery for the present." said Harry.

"Yes, there's that advantage about being poor. It reminds me of old Jack Pierce in our village."

"What about him?" asked Harry.

"He read in the paper one day that a certain bank had burst. So he went home in a hurry to see if he had any bills on that bank. He found that he had no bills on that bank or any other--and then he felt better."

Harry laughed.

"It was a poor consolation, I think," he said. "I remember hearing a sermon from our minister at home in which he said that riches were a great responsibility, but I don't think I should mind taking the responsibility."

"That's my idee, Harry. I am afraid there isn't much chance of our having that responsibility, but there's one thing we can do if we don't make the claim pay."

"What's that, Obed?"

"We can join the bushrangers."

"Will you set us the example?" asked Harry, smiling.

"I'm not quite desperate enough yet. We'll try the claim a little longer. But I'm gettin' tuckered out. We'll go and get some dinner and then start diggin' again."

They repaired to their cabin, and solaced themselves with food. Then they threw themselves down in the shadow of the cabin to rest, and Obed pulled out his pipe. This was a solace which the boys didn't enjoy. They were sensible enough to know, that, whatever may be said of men, boys only receive injury from the use of tobacco. In the resolution to abstain, they were upheld and encouraged by Obed, who, veteran smoker as he was, did not approve of smoking.

"You're better off without it, boys," he said. "It won't do you no good.

I wish I could leave it off."

"Why don't you?" asked Harry.

"Easier said than done, my boy. Let me see, I was only turned of thirteen when I used to slink off to the barn and smoke, for I knew father wouldn't let me if he knew it. It made me sick at first, but I thought it was makin' a man of me, and I kept on. Well, the habit's on me now, and it's hard to break. It don't hurt a man as much as a boy, but it don't do him any good, either. Jack, did you ever smoke?"

"No, Obed; but one of the sailors gave me a piece of tobacco to chew once. I didn't like it and spit it out."

"The best thing you could do. I wish all boys were as sensible."

In their hours of rest the three often chatted of home. Their conversation was generally of one tenor. They liked to fancy themselves returning with plenty of money, and planned how they would act under such pleasant circ.u.mstances. Instead of the barren hills among which they were encamped, familiar scenes and faces rose before them, and the picture was so attractive that it was hard to come back to the cheerless reality.

"Well, boys," said Obed, at the end of an hour, "we may as well go to work again. The gold's waitin' for us."

It was an old joke, and scarcely elicited a smile now. In fact, the boys felt that they had waited a long time for the gold. It was not, therefore, with a very hopeful feeling that they obeyed the summons and returned to the claim. Though of a sanguine disposition, they began to doubt seriously whether their efforts would ever be rewarded. They had pretty much lost the stimulus of hope.

About four o'clock, when Jack was at work with the pick, something curious happened. Instead of sinking into the earth it glanced off, as from something hard.

"What is it, Jack?" asked Obed quickly.

"I must have struck a rock, Obed."

"Here, give me the pick," said Obed eagerly.

He struck, and lo! a yellow streak became plainly visible.

"Boys," said he in an agitated voice, "I believe our luck has come."

"What do you mean, Obed?"

"I believe we've found a nugget;" and to the boys' intense surprise he immediately began to cover it up with dirt.

"What's that for?" asked Harry.

"Hush! we mustn't take it out now. Somebody might be looking. We'll wait till it's darker."

Just then the tramp before mentioned strolled up.

"What luck, friends?" he asked.

"Same as usual," answered Obed, shrugging his shoulders. "Don't you want to buy the claim?"

"Not I," and the tramp, quite deceived by his manner, kept on his round.

CHAPTER XXIII.

RAISING THE NUGGET.

"It's lucky we covered up the gold," said Obed, in a low voice. "That's the last man I wanted to discover our good luck."

"Shan't we keep on working?" asked Harry, in excitement.

"I will just probe a little to form some idea of the size of the nugget," answered Obed.

"Then you think it is a nugget?" asked Jack eagerly.

"Yes, I think our luck has come at last, boys. I think we will be able to pull up stakes and go back to America. But about keeping on now, we shall need to be cautious. Someone might come by, and see what we are about."

Then Harry made a suggestion.

"Let Jack go up to the top, and if anyone comes he can whistle. That will put us on our guard."

"A good idea!" said Obed.

So Jack threw himself on the ground in a listless posture, and the other two continued their explorations. They dug all about the boulder, which proved to be about a foot in diameter. It was embedded in clay, from which it was separated with some difficulty. It was encased in quartz, but the interior was bright, glittering gold.

"It's a regular beauty," said Obed in a low tone, his eyes glittering with excitement. "It isn't once in a dog's age that so big a nugget is discovered."