"I was in the bar."

"Well, there was very bad blood between them--you see that? And I heard the toff tell Zahn that the next time 'e saw 'im he'd about stiffen 'im.

I heard it, or words to that effect. Now, I want you to bear witness that what I say is true."

"Yes, yes, I remember the time. You mean Mr. Scarlett, the man who discovered the field."

"There's wheels within wheels, my boy. They were rivals for the same girl. She jilted young Zahn when this new man took up the running. Bad blood, very bad blood, indeed."

"But is he dead? Has there been a murder at all? Collusion, sir, collusion. Suppose the escort quietly appropriated the gold and effaced themselves, they'd be rich men for life, sir."

"You're right, Mr. Ferrars. Until the bodies are found, sir, there is no reason to believe there has been murder."

At this moment the local bellman appeared on the scene, and stopped conversation with the din of his bell. Subsequently, after the manner of his kind, and in a thin nasal voice, he proclaimed as follows:--"Five hundred pound reward--Five hundred pound reward.--It being believed--that a foul murder has been committed--on the persons of--Isaac Zahn, Peter Heafy, William Johnson, James Kettle--citizens of Timber Town--a search-party will be formed--under the leadership of Mr.

Charles Caxton--volunteers will be enrolled at the Town Hall--a large reward being offered--for the apprehension of the murderers--Five hundred pound--Five hundred pound!"

He then tucked his bell under his arm and walked off, just as unconcernedly as if he were advertising an auction-sale.

By this time a crowd of two or three hundred people had a.s.sembled. A chair was brought from The Lucky Digger, and upon this a stout man clambered to address the people. But what with his vehemence and gesticulations, and what with the smallness of his platform, he stepped to the ground several times in the course of his speech; therefore a lorry, a four-wheeled vehicle not unlike a tea-tray upon four wheels, was brought, and while the orator held forth effusively from his new rostrum, the patient horse stood between the shafts, with drooping head.

This pompous person was succeeded by a tall, upright man, with the bearing of a Viking and the voice of a clarion. His speech was short and to the point. If he had to go alone, he would search for the missing men; but he asked for help. "I am a surveyor," he said. "I knew none of these men who are lost or murdered, but I appeal to those of you who are diggers to come forward and help. I appeal to the townsfolk who knew young Zahn to rally round me in searching for their friend. I appeal for funds, since the work cannot be done without expense; and at the conclusion of this meeting I shall enrol volunteers in the Town Hall."

He stood down, and Mr. Crewe rose to address the crowd, which had now a.s.sumed such proportions that it stretched from pavement to pavement of the broad street. All the shops were closed, and people were flocking from far and wide to the centre of the town.

"Men of Timber Town," said Mr. Crewe, "I'm not so young as I was, or I would be the first to go in search of these missing men. My days as a bushman are over, I fear; but I shall have much pleasure in giving 20 to the expenses of the search-party. All I ask is that there be no more talking, but prompt action. These men may be tied to trees in the bush; they may be starving to death while we talk here. Therefore let us unite in helping the searchers to get away without delay."

A movement was now made towards the Town Hall, and while the volunteers of the search-party were being enrolled two committees of citizens were being formed in the Town Clerk's office--the one to finance, and the other to equip, the expedition.

While these things were going forward, there stood apart from the crowd four men, who conversed in low voices.

"It's about time, mates, we got a bend on."

"Dolly, you make me tired. I ask you, was there ever such a chance. All the traps in the town will be searching for these unfortunate missin'

men. We'll have things all our own way, an' you ask us to 'git.'"

"'Strewth, Garstang, you're a glutton. S'far's I'm concerned, I've got as much as I can carry. I don't want no more."

The four comrades in crime had completely changed their appearance. They were dressed in new, ready-made suits, and wore brand-new hats, besides which they had shaved their faces in such a manner as to make them hardly recognisable.

Dolphin, who, besides parting with his luxuriant whiskers and moustache, had shaved off his eyebrows, remarked, with the air of a man in deep thought, "But there's no steamer leaving port for two days--I forgot that. It seems we'll have to stay that long, at any rate."

"And I can't bear bein' idle--it distresses me," said Sweet William.

"This'll be the last place where they'll look for us," remarked Carnac.

"You take it from me, they'll search the diggings first."

"When they've found the unfortunate men, they'll be rampin' mad to catch the perpetrators." This from Dolphin.

A rough, bluff, good-natured digger pushed his way into the middle of the group. "Come on, mates," he said; "put your names down for a fiver each. It's got to be done." And seizing Garstang and Sweet William, he pulled them towards the Town Hall.

"G'arn! Let go!" snarled Garstang.

"Whatyer givin' us?" exclaimed William, as she shook himself free. "The bloke's fair ratty."

"Here! Hi!" Dolphin called to the enthusiastic stranger. "What's all this about missing men? What's all the fuss about?--as like as not the men are gone prospecting in the bush."

"A gold-buyer with 5000 oz. of gold doesn't go prospecting," replied the digger. "Come and read the notice, man."

The four murderers lounged towards the Post Office, and coolly read the Bank Manager's placard.

"They've got lost, that's about the size of it," said Garstang.

"Why all this bobbery should be made over a few missin' men, beats me,"

sneered Dolphin.

"Whenever there's a 'rush' in Australia, there's dozens of men git lost," said Sweet William, "but n.o.body takes any notice--it's the ordinary thing."

"But there's gold to the value of 20,000 gone too," said the enthusiastic stranger. "Wouldn't you take notice of _that_?"

"It'll turn up," said Carnac. "They must have lost their way in the thunderstorm. But you may bet they're well supplied with tucker. Hang it all, they might come into town any minute, and what fools we'd look then."

"P'r'aps their pack-horse got frightened at the lightning and fell over a precipice. It might, easy." This was William's brilliant suggestion.

"An' the men are humpin' the gold into town theirselves," said Garstang.

"There ain't any occasion to worry, that I can see. None at all, none at all. Come an' have a drink, mate. I'll shout for the crowd."

The five men strolled towards The Lucky Digger, through the door of which they pa.s.sed into a crowded bar, where, amid excited, loud-voiced diggers who were expressing their views concerning the gold-escort's disappearance, the four murderers were the only quiet and collected individuals.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

The Gold League Washes Up.

The amalgamated "claims," worked upon an economical and extensive scale, had promised from the outset to render enormous returns to the members of the Gold League.

Throughout the canvas town which had sprung up on the diggings, the news that the "toffs" were to divide their profits had created the widest interest, and in every calico shanty and in every six-by-eight tent the organising genius of the "field," Mr. Jack Scarlett, was the subject of conversation.

Such topsy-turvy habitations as the stores and dwellings of Canvas Town never were seen. The main street, if the thoroughfare where all the business of the mushroom township was transacted could be dignified with such a name, was a snare to the pedestrian and an impossibility to vehicles, which, however, were as yet unknown on the "field."

The "Cafe de Paris" possessed no windows in its canvas walls, and its solitary chimney was an erection of corrugated iron, surmounted by a tin chimney-pot. "The Golden Reef," where spirituous liquors were to be had at exorbitant prices, was of a more palatial character, as it had a front of painted wood, in which there hung a real door furnished with a lock, though the sides of the building were formed of rough logs, taken in their natural state from the "bush." The calico structure which bore in large stencilled letters the name of The Kangaroo Bank, was evidently closed during the absence of the Manager, for, pinned to the cotton of the front wall, was a piece of paper, on which was written in pencil the following notice:--"During the temporary absence of the Manager, customers of the Bank are requested to leave their gold with Mr.

Figgiss, of the Imperial Dining Rooms, whose receipts will be duly acknowledged by the Bank. Isaac Zahn, Manager." Upon reading the notice, would-be customers of the wealthy inst.i.tution had only to turn round in order to see Mr. Figgiss himself standing in the door of his place of business. He was a tall, red-bearded, pugnacious-looking man, with an expansive, hairy chest, which was visible beneath the unb.u.t.toned front of his Crimean shirt. The Imperial Dining Rooms, if not s.p.a.cious, were yet remarkable, for upon their calico sides it was announced in letters of rainbow tints that curries and stews were always ready, that grilled steaks and chops were to be had on Tuesdays and Fridays, and roast pork and "duff" on Sundays.

But further along the street, where tree-stumps still remained and the pedestrian traversed water-worn ruts which reached to his knee, the true glory of Canvas Town stood upon a small elevation, overlooking the river. This was the office of the Timber Town Gold League. It was felt by every digger on the "field" that here was a structure which should serve as a model. Its sides were made of heavy slabs of wood, which bore marks of the adze and axe; its floor, raised some four feet from the ground, was of sawn planks--unheard-of luxury--and in the cellars below were stored the goods of the affluent company. Approaching the door by a short flight of steps, admittance was gained to a set of small offices, beyond which lay a s.p.a.cious room, which, at the time when the reader is ushered into it, is filled with bearded men dressed in corduroy, or blue dungaree, copper-fastened, trousers and flannel shirts; men with mud on their boots and on their clothes, and an air of ruffianism pervading them generally. And yet this is the Timber Town Gold League, the aristocratic members of which are a.s.sembled for the purpose of dividing the proceeds of their first "wash-up."

On an upturned whisky-case, before a big table composed of boards roughly nailed together and resting on trestles, sits the Manager of the League, Mr. Jack Scarlett, and before him lie the proceeds of the "wash-up."

The room is full of tobacco-smoke, and the hubbub of many voices drowns the thin voice of the League's Secretary, who sits beside the Manager and calls for silence.