hands
bore marks of hard work, but his eyes were bright, and the colour of his
cheek was healthy, and for all the noise he made as he walked there was
strength in his movements and elasticity in his steps.

Without a word of introduction, he held out his hand to Miss
Summerhayes, who took it frankly.

Captain Sartoris had risen to his feet.

"How d'y do, sir," he said, as he shook hands. "I hope I see you well,
sir. Have you come far, or do you live close handy?"

"I've come a matter of twenty miles or so to-day," said the tall
stranger.

"Farming in the bush, I suppose," said Sartoris. "Very nice occupation,
farming, I should think." He closely eyed the ragged man. "Or perhaps
you fell down a precipice of jagged stones which tore you considerable.
Anyhow, I'm glad I see you well, sir, _very_ glad I see you well."

There was a rumbling noise like the echo of distant thunder
reverberating through the hills. Rose and Sartoris almost simultaneously
fixed their eyes upon the Pilot.

Summerhayes's huge person was heaving with suppressed merriment, his
face was red, and his mouth was shut tight lest he should explode with
laughter. But when he saw the two pairs of bewildered eyes staring at
him, he burst into a laugh such as made the wooden walls of the house
quiver.

Sartoris stood, regarding the Pilot as though he trembled for his
friend's senses; and a look of alarm showed itself in Rose's face.

"You don't know him!" cried the Pilot, pulling himself together. But
the Titanic laughter again took hold of him, and shook his vast frame.
"You've travelled with him, you've sailed with him, you've known him,
Sartoris--you've bin shipwrecked with him!" Here the paroxysm seized the
Pilot anew; and when it had subsided it left him exhausted and feeble.
He sank limply upon the old-fashioned sofa, and said, almost in a
whisper, "It's Jack Scarlett, and you didn't know him; Jack Scarlett,
back from the diggings, with his swag full of gold--and you thought him
a stranger."

It was now the turn of Rose and the skipper to laugh. Jack, who up to
this point had kept a straight face, joined his merriment to theirs, and
rushing forward they each shook him by the hand again, but in a totally
different manner from that of their former greeting.

Out of his "jumper" the fortunate digger pulled a long chamois-leather
bag, tied at the neck with a boot-lace. Taking a soup-plate from the
sideboard, he emptied the contents of the bag