the police."

"Then I'm afraid they won't find him," said Jack. "He's safe, I reckon."

"Indeed. How do you know that?"

"He was in the bush with his prospector friend, when I left Bush Robin
Creek. But he robbed no mails, bless you, Pilot. What would he want with
other people's letters?"

"I don't pretend to know. There's money in mail-bags, I suppose. Perhaps
he was after that."

"He's after gold, right enough, and he'll get it, if I'm not mistaken."

Jack had risen to go.

"We leave early in the morning," he said. "I must get some sleep.
Good-bye, Pilot; good-bye, Miss Summerhayes."

"Good luck, lad. Come back rich."

Rose was silent till Jack was near the door. Then she said, "I shall
remember your recipe--I shan't neglect home duties: I shall attend to
them regularly."

Jack laughed, and the Pilot went with him to the front door.

"Eh, lad, there never was such a gal for minding a house. She can make
a batter-puddin' with anyone, and I don't care who the next is. Good
night, lad, good night. There's never no need to tell her to look after
her old father, none at all. And it's a good test--as good as you can
have, Jack, my lad. If a gal looks after her old father well, she'll
look after her husband, too, when he comes along. Good night, Jack; good
night. Eh, but you're in a lucky streak. You'll die rich, Jack. Good
night, Jack; good night."

CHAPTER XXIII.

Forewarned, Forearmed.

Tresco and the Prospector were eating their "tucker" beneath the boughs
of a spreading black-birch. In front of them burned brightly a fire of
dead branches, suspended above which was the "billy," black and battered
externally, but full of fragrant tea.

"I shall go home to England," said Benjamin; his mouth half-filled with
cold bacon. "I shall visit my widowed mother, and be the comfort and
support of her declining years. There must be over 200 ounces in the
tent, and hundreds more in the claim."

"I ain't got a widowed mother," said the Prospector. "_I_ shall go into
Timber Town and make The Lucky Digger open house--come when you like,
have what you like, at the expense of Mr. William Wurcott. That's my
style. I like to see a man free with his dollars."

They had pegged out their claim at a spot where the corrugations in the
rocky bed of the creek stretched from bank to bank and a beach of soft
sand spread itself along the water's edge.

The first "prospect" that they had "panned off" resulted in a return