The Tale of Timber Town Part 36

The girl took a bud of La Rosiere, dark, velvety, fragrant, perfect.

"I'm in love with them all," she said, "but this is my favourite."

She handed the bud to Jack, who put it in the b.u.t.ton-hole of his worn and shabby coat.

"Thanks," he said, "I'm more than repaid."

Sartoris burst out laughing.

"Don't you feel a bit in the way, Summerhayes?" he said. "I do. When these young things exchange love-tokens, it's time we went into the next room."

"No," laughed the Pilot, "we won't budge. The gal gets twenty-pound worth of gold, and offers a rose in return. It's a beautiful flower, no doubt; but how would a slice of mutton go, after 'damper' and 'billy'

tea? Rosebud, my gal, go and get Mr. Scarlett something to eat."

Joining in the laugh, Rose went into her kitchen, and Jack commenced to pack up his gold, in order that the table might be laid for dinner.

But if you come to think of it, there may have been a great deal in his request, and even more in the girl's frank bestowal.

CHAPTER XXI.

The Foundation of the Gold League.

Mr. Crewe sat in the Timber Town Club with his satellite, Cathro, beside him. The old gentleman was smoking a well-seasoned briar pipe, from which he puffed clouds of smoke contemplatively, as he watched the gesticulations of a little man who was arguing with a gentleman who wore riding-breeches and leggings.

"I tell you, sir," said the little man, "that there is not the vestige of proof that the mails were stolen, not the slightest scintilla of truth in the suspicion."

"Then what became of them?" asked the other, as he fixed a gold horse-shoe pin more securely in his tie.

"What became of them?" exclaimed the little man. "They were washed overboard, washed overboard and lost."

"But," said the man of horses, "I happened to be riding home late that night, and, I a.s.sure you, there was not a breath of wind; the sea was as smooth as gla.s.s."

"That might be," retorted the little man, who was now pacing up and down in front of his adversary in a most excited fas.h.i.+on. "That might be, but there is a lot of surge and swell about a steamer, especially in the neighbourhood of the screw, and it is very possible, I may say highly probable, that the missing bags were lost as the mail was being pa.s.sed up the side."

"But how would that affect the incoming mail?" asked the other. "Did that drop over the side, too?"

"No, sir," said the diminutive man, drawing himself up to his full height. "There is nothing to prove that the incoming mail was anything but complete. We are honest people in Timber Town, sir. I do not believe we have in the entire community men capable of perpetrating so vile a crime." He turned to the Father of Timber Town for corroboration. "I appeal to you, Mr. Crewe; to you, sir, who have known the town from its inception."

Mr. Crewe drew his pipe from his mouth, and said, with great deliberation, "Well, that is, ah--that is a very difficult question. I may say that though Timber Town is remarkably free from crime, still I have known rascals here, and infernal dam' rascals, too."

The little man fairly bristled with indignation at this remark. He was about to refute the stigma laid on his little pet town, when the door opened and in walked Scarlett, dressed still in his travel-stained clothes, and with his beard unshorn.

His appearance was so strange, that the little argumentative man believed an intruder, of low origin and objectionable occupation, had invaded the sacred precincts of his club.

"I beg your pardon, but what does this mean, sir?" he asked; immense importance in his bearing, gesture, and tone. "You have made some mistake, sir. I should like to know if your name has been duly entered in the visitors' book, and by whom, sir?"

Taking no notice of these remarks, Jack walked straight across the room, and held out his hand to Mr. Crewe. The white-haired old gentleman was on his feet in a moment. He took the proffered hand, and said, with a politeness which was as easy as it was natural, "What is it I can do for you, sir? If you will step this way, we can talk quite comfortably in the ante-room."

Jack laughed. "I don't believe you know me," he said.

"'Pon my honour, you're right. I don't," said Mr. Crewe.

Jack laughed again, a thing which in a non-member almost caused the pompous little man to explode with indignation.

"I'm the fellow, you know, who went to look for the new gold-field,"

said Jack, "and by the lord! I've found it."

"Scarlett! Is it you?" exclaimed old Mr. Crewe. "You have got it? My dear sir, this is good news; this is excellent news! You have found the new gold-field? This is really remarkable, this is indeed most fortunate! This is the happiest day I have seen for a long while!"

"Eh? What? what?" said Cathro, who was on his feet too. "Is it rich?"

"Rich?" said Jack. Taking a bank deposit-receipt from his pocket, he handed it to Cathro.

"Good G.o.d!" cried he, eyeing the figures on the paper, "it's a fortune."

Mr. Crewe had his gold spectacles upon his nose and the paper in his hand in a moment. "Three thousand one hundred and eighty-seven pounds!"

he exclaimed. "Well, well, that is luck! And where's your mate, Scarlett? Where is Moonlight?"

"He's on the claim."

"On the claim? Then there's still gold in sight?"

"We've but scratched the surface," said Jack. "This is only the foretaste of what's to come."

The important little man, who had eagerly listened to all that had been said, was hovering round the group, like an excited c.o.c.k sparrow.

"Really!" he exclaimed, "this is most interesting, very interesting indeed. A remarkable event, Mr. Crewe, a most remarkable event. Do me the honour, sir, to introduce me to your friend."

"Mr. Tonks, Scarlett," said the old gentleman. "Allow me to introduce Mr. Tonks."

Jack greeted the little man politely, and then turning to Cathro, said, "We've pegged off four men's claims; so, Cathro, you'll have to turn digger, and go back with me to the field."

"But my dear sir," replied Cathro, whose shrivelled form betokened no great physical strength, "my dear Scarlett, am I to do pick-and-shovel work? Am I to trundle a barrow? Am I to work up to my waist in water, and sleep in a tent? My dear sir, I cannot dig; to beg I am ashamed."

Scarlett threw back his head, and laughed. "Oh, that's nothing," he said. "It's the getting there with a 70lb. swag on your back that's the trouble. The country is a ma.s.s of ranges; the bush is as thick as a jungle, and there's nothing but a blazed track to go by. But your claim is waiting for you. What do you intend doing with it?"

The attenuated Cathro sank on a couch despairingly. "I think I'll sell it," he said. "I'll sell it to Tonks here, I'll sell it for 1000 down, and be content with small profits and quick returns."

The little man, important that he should be referred to as good for so substantial an amount, strutted up and down, like a bantam on whom the eyes of the fowl-yard rested. However, the gentleman, dressed for riding, was beforehand with him.

"It's an open offer, I suppose," he said.

"Certainly," replied Cathro. "I don't care who gets my claim, so long as I get the money."

"Then it's concluded," said the horsey man. "I buy the claim."