Part 55 (2/2)

”Listen, blokes,” interrupted Sweet William, with an oath. ”Give the boss your attention, _if_ you please.”

Tresco glued his eye tighter to the aperture through which he peered.

There lay the dull, yellow gold--if only he could but scare the robbers away, the prize would be his own. He rose on one knee to get a better view, but as he did so his toe dislodged a loose piece of stone, which tumbled noisily down the gallery steps, the sound of its falling re-echoing through the s.p.a.cious cavern.

In a moment the robbers were thrown into a state of perturbation.

Seizing their arms, they glanced wildly around, and stood on their defence.

But all was hushed and still.

”Go forward, Garstang, and search the cave,” ordered the leader in a voice of authority.

With a firebrand in one hand and a revolver in the other, the big, burly man crept forward; his mates alert to fire over him at any object he might discover. His search was haphazard, and his feet were naturally uncertain among the debris which had acc.u.mulated on the floor of the cavern.

Skirting the grotto's edge, he examined the inky shadows that lay behind pillar and projection, till he came to the stairs which led to the Organ Gallery.

Tresco, filled with an unspeakable dread, contemplated a retreat down the pa.s.sage he had lately explored, where he might be driven by the murderers over the abyssmal depth which he had failed to fathom, when suddenly the man with the torch tripped, fell, and the flame of his firebrand disappeared in a shower of sparks. With an oath the prostrate man gathered up his bruised limbs, and by the aid of the flickering fire-light he groped his way back to his fellows, but not before he had placed his ear to the damp floor and had listened for the sound of intruders.

”There's n.o.body,” he said, when he reached his mates. ”The row was only a blanky spike that fell from the roof an' broke itself. The ground's covered with 'em.”

”Come on, then,” said Sweet William; ”let's finish our business.”

They gathered again round the treasure.

”You see, I have arranged it in two heaps,” said Dolphin--”nuggets in one, gold-dust in the other. I propose to measure out the dust first.”

Each man had provided himself with one of the leather bags which had originally held the gold, and their leader filled a pint pannikin with gold-dust. ”That's one,” he said, lifting it heavily. ”That's for you, old crooked chops.” And he emptied the measure into Garstang's bag.

”Two.” He emptied a pannikinful of gold into Carnac's bag.

”Three.” Sweet William received a like measure.

”Four.” Dolphin helped himself.

”That makes four pints of gold,” he said. ”What d'you say, mates, will she go round another turn?”

”No,” said Carnac, ”try a half-pint all round.”

Dolphin fetched a smaller pannikin from the swags, and the division of the gold continued.

To share the nuggets equally was a difficult matter, and a good deal of wrangling took place in consequence. This, however, was quieted by the simple expedient of tossing a coin for disputed pieces of gold. The biggest nuggets being thus disposed of, the smaller ones were measured in the half-pint pot, till at length the envious eyes of the goldsmith saw the last measureful disappear into its owner's bag.

This exceedingly delicate matter being settled, the bushrangers sat round the fire, drank tea which they brewed in a black ”billy,”

lit their pipes, and--as is invariably the case with a gang of thieves--enacted again the awful drama in which they had lately played their horrible parts.

s.h.i.+vering on the damp floor of the dripping gallery, Tresco strained his ears to hear every diabolical detail of the conversation.

”Garstang, old man, Dolly's right; you'd better see to that s.h.i.+rt of yours. It looks as if you'd killed a pig in it.”

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