In A New World: or, Among The Gold Fields Of Australia

"Is that true?" demanded Fletcher, eying Colson with displeasure.

"I never said any such thing," said Colson eagerly. "He twists my words. I have the greatest respect for the bushrangers, whom I regard as gentlemen."

"Perhaps that is the reason you don't feel gratified to join them,

Colson?"

Fletcher laughed at this palpable hit, but Colson looked annoyed.

"I don't expect to remain in this section of the country long," said

Colson deprecatingly, for he was very much afraid of offending Fletcher.

"Of course I can't form any permanent ties."

"It might be better for you to leave, Colson. I've an idee that it isn't good for your health to stay around here very long. You haven't made a shinin' success so far. Now, as to that nugget which you stole – "

"Do you mean to insult me? I never took any nugget."

"That's so. You're right there, Colson. But you thought you had, all the same. Fortunately, it's where you can't get at it."

"I have something to say on that point," said Fletcher. "I understand the nugget is very valuable."

"I'm glad to hear it. You're a judge. I have an idee of that sort myself."

"About how much does it weigh?"

"About seventy-five pounds. I don't mind gratifying your innocent curiosity, Fletcher."

Fletcher's eyes sparkled.

"It must be very valuable," he said.

"I reckon it is."

"At what do you estimate it – twenty thousand dollars?"

"Not as much as that."

"It ought to come pretty near it, though."

Obed did not answer.

"It's a great prize. You were very lucky."

"So I thought at the time. I don't feel so certain, now," said Obed dryly.

"I think half of it will be enough for you."

"What do you mean, Fletcher?"

"I mean that we shall want half of it."

"How are you going to get it?"

"We mean to hold you prisoner till half the proceeds are brought in from

Melbourne."

Obed's countenance fell. He had not thought of this.

Colson's eyes glistened with pleasure. Till that lucky suggestion was made he saw no way of securing a share of the great prize.

"That's a nice scheme, Fletcher," said Obed, regaining his composure.

"So I think. You and the boys would still have a good sum of money. What do you say? Shall we make a little friendly arrangement to that effect? You could give me an order for half the sum realized, and on my securing it you would be released."

"I shall have to talk it over with my partners here," returned Obed.

"They're equally interested with me."

"Better do so now."

"I won't till evenin', when we have more time."

Fletcher rode away under the impression that Obed was favorably disposed to his plan.

"When I get the money," he said to himself, "I can decide whether to let the fellow go or not. I don't care for the boys, but I'd like to give this Yankee a good flogging, he's so confoundedly sarcastic. Plague take it, the fellow doesn't know when he's down, but talks as if he was on equal terms with me."

Meanwhile, though Fletcher did not know it, the train of bushrangers had steadily advanced to the neighborhood of the place where the government escort were encamped.

In fact, he was ignorant that they were so near. But Obed knew it, and he was watching his opportunity to apprise his friends of his situation. Harry had noticed the same thing. Lest he should make a premature revelation, Obed placed his hand to his lips, as a sign of silence. Harry understood, and seemed indifferent, but his heart was beating fast with excitement.

CHAPTER XXXIII. THE TABLES ARE TURNED

It was certainly an oversight in Fletcher not to have ascertained the situation of the government encampment. He was under the impression that it was in a direction opposite to that in which they were moving, and this determined his course. He was therefore wholly unconscious of danger, and tranquil in mind, though his situation was critical.

Obed was puzzled to know in what manner to get the necessary intelligence to his comrades. Chance gave him a suggestion. The man next him wore round his neck a whistle – designed doubtless to use in case of emergencies. It was of rather peculiar shape.

"That's an odd whistle you've got there, my friend," he said, "where did you get it?"

"In Melbourne," answered the fellow unsuspiciously.

"I think I've seen one like it in the States. Let me look at it a minute."

The bushranger allowed Obed to take it in his hand.

Suddenly Mr. Stackpole put it to his mouth, and gave a sharp, loud whistle that awakened the echoes in the forest.