The power of the other man's voice checked his words; the power of the
other man's eyes, staring steadily into his from beneath the black band
of the heavy brows, checked his wandering glance. He essayed to speak;
the words choked in his throat. He strove to leap forward and rush from
the hut into the sunlight beyond; but the place seemed to spin round
him. A red film spread before his eyes; a roaring crash of sound filled
his ears; his lungs gasped for the air they could not breathe; and it
seemed as though his brain burst his skull asunder as he reeled and fell
like a log to the floor.

Looking down at him where he lay, the man with the brutal head said to
his companion, in a tone of callous indifference--

"There was a streak of luck in it, Tap, my son, for we've struck a
better man than your mate Walker, and a man who's with us to the end."

CHAPTER VIII.

SKINNING THE WILD CAT.

The hum of the men's voices and the clatter of their picks and shovels,
as they worked along the banks of the creek with the vigour and energy
of men who thirst for gold and believe it is in the ground under their
feet only waiting to be taken out, were the last sounds that came to
Tony and his companions as they passed over the crest of the rise.
Beyond it the land was level for a distance, but between the trees they
could see where it was densely wooded, as though a creek flowed in the
vicinity.

"There's broken country ahead, if I'm not mistaken," Peters said. "It'll
be as well to push on beyond the scrub, or up to it, before we camp."

Palmer Billy looked round at Peters.

"There's a creek through the scrub, or I ain't no singer," he remarked.
"And if there's a creek through the scrub, there's gold in the creek,
and it's good enough to have a look at it before going on."

"There's no gold in it," Gleeson exclaimed.

"You say you've been there?" Peters asked.

"No, I don't; but I say there's no gold in it. No more than there is in
the creek way-back. There's no gold in the country. Let the others find
it out for themselves; but now Walker's turned up no good, and we're all
mates in the swim, I'll tell you straight. The whole game was a bit of
bluff."

"Here, steady, young feller," Palmer Billy said, as he swung his swag to
the ground and faced Gleeson. "Let's have a plain talk about this.
What's _your_ game, anyhow?"

"You told me----" Peters began, when Gleeson interrupted him.

"You want the yarn, and I'll