The Bushranger's Secret Part 11

"I won't do anything of the sort. I won't stand any more of this sort of treatment. You may shoot me if you like"--for Lumley had raised his revolver--"but do your bidding I won't."

Gray fully expected, even half-wished for, a shot from the revolver Lumley held up at him for a moment. But the convict changed his mind.

He put the weapon in his pocket and got coolly up.

"Well, if you won't I must," he said, and went over to the hearth-stone that lay buried under a heap of earth and timber.

Gray sank down on the fallen rafter and buried his face in his hands.

No man can look on death and bear an unchanged front, not even the bravest and the most prepared, and Gray was not of these. For a brief moment he had believed that death was close to him. It was to Lumley's interest to kill him now that he knew where the gold was, and there had been murder in his eyes as he had looked across at Gray. And Gray sat with his hands clasped over his eyes, in sick, horrible fear at the thought of himself lying cold and stiff, with eyes staring blindly up at the sky; his soul gone--where?

At the other end of the hut Clay was busy. He dashed away the heap of rubbish on the hearth-stone, and digging the pick into the loose earth round it, dragged it up without much difficulty. A cry of exultation broke from him as he did so. Embedded in the ground below the hearth-stone lay a small tin box, bound round and round with whipcord.

To drag up the box, cut the already decaying cord, and wrench open the cover was the work of a moment. Two or three wrappings of thick brown paper lay over the contents of the box. He tore these off, and clutched at what lay beneath.

"Come here, partner," he shouted; "what do you say to this, eh?"

Gray slowly rose and came towards him. How he had antic.i.p.ated the moment when this money should lie before him! There it was, and he looked at it with a shudder.

Lumley emptied the contents of the box on the floor before him, and began eagerly to count over the notes and gold.

"A prime catch, eh?" he remarked, as he caught up a handful of sovereigns and let them fall back in a glittering heap. "We'll be able to cut a dash on this, partner. Look at this nugget! And the flimsy is all safe-- Tom took care of that; there ain't one of the numbers known." And he held up the banknotes to Gray with a grin. "Better than the reward after all, my boy, even the half of it, though not _quite_ so good as the whole lot. You thought you were going to grab it all, didn't you? You were a green un to think so. Why, I've followed you up from the moment I heard of Tom's death. I knew he'd leave some paper or other to tell where 'twas. Tom wasn't greedy, not he." He went on with the examination of the treasure while he spoke; counting the gold and notes, and putting the nuggets into a heap apart.

Presently he looked up with his cunning smile at Gray's dark face.

"You don't ask me, partner, how I came to hit on the hearth-stone."

"How was it?" said Gray indifferently. The gold might have been withered leaves, the notes blank pieces of paper for all the interest he could feel in them.

"'Twas a good job for you I followed you," returned Lumley cheerfully.

"You might have prodded round till doomsday. I knew what Tom meant by '_hole in Big Gum_,' d'you see. That big log there with the window was from the biggest gum of the whole lot we cut down. And the window was the hole. Ain't it plain as daylight now, eh?"

"Plain enough."

It was getting dusk outside, and Lumley got up and went to the door of the hut.

"We'd best be starting, partner," he said over his shoulder. "There's nothing out against me that I know of, but I'd rather not be seen by daylight with you just at present, as you'll understand."

Gray hardly heard the words. He picked up his knapsack from the floor.

"I'll start this minute. I suppose you have got a horse?"

Lumley came back to the money before he answered. He began to divide it into two heaps.

"Yes, I've got a horse, partner, a pretty good one too. We scared you pretty well just now, eh? down along the track. My horse can climb like a 'possum, and I didn't want you to see me then."

The man's manner had changed again. It was smoother and more refined.

It was as if he had slipped on a mask, and Gray's loathing of him increased as he marked the sudden easy transition. His coa.r.s.eness was almost better than this oily softness. It maddened Gray.

"You needn't divide that money," he broke out in a sudden impulse of miserable rage. "I'll have none of it. And if I leave this place alive I'll give you over to the police. You mark my words!"

Lumley looked up at him with a quiet smile.

"Two of us can play at that game, my fine fellow!" Then his manner changed quickly from softness to ferocity. "You young fool, you!

Don't you know the police are after you? They may be outside this, for aught I know, this minute. Anyway, they're close upon your track."

Gray stepped fiercely towards him.

"You lie!" he gasped out.

"You'd better ride down to Ford's to-night and find out," returned Lumley in a sulky, indifferent tone; "you'll have a warm welcome!"

"It's false!" Gray almost shouted the words. "They have no reason."

Lumley looked up at him with a grin.

"That's a pretty statement for you to make, partner. Anyway, there's a warrant out against you. Not for this pretty stuff alone, mind you--suspicion of _murder_!"

His crafty, cruel eyes fixed themselves on Gray's pallid twitching face.

"Murder of your mate, partner. 'Twas a pity you had to do it, for it's a hanging matter; but he was an obstinate chap, I expect. Pious and all that."

"They believe I murdered Harding?" Gray gasped out.

"Don't take on, partner," returned Clay cheerfully; "murder will out, as they say. And the police haven't got you yet. You trust to me: I know a track that'll take us out safe enough. I daresay you feel queer, though. It's unpleasant to be tracked by the police. I'm used to it, but I don't like it. I expect you wouldn't have done it if you'd thought you'd have been found out; eh, partner?"

It overwhelmed Gray to find that he could be suspected of a cold-blooded treacherous murder.

"You think--you dare to think--" he broke out, and then his voice failed him.

Had he not, in very purpose and act, been the murderer of his mate?

The words of angry defence faltered on his tongue. He stood self-convicted, seeing for the first time all the horror of his act--unable to say a word to clear himself of the charge Lumley brought against him.

CHAPTER VII.

DESERTED!

A vast sun-scorched plain stretching away in endless miles under a blazing sky. A waterless desert, where the horses sunk fetlock-deep in shifting sand, or were cruelly p.r.i.c.ked by the th.o.r.n.y leafless shrub which was the only living plant to be seen. No trees; no flowers; no gra.s.s; no sparkle of water far or near. Such was the land Gray and Lumley were riding through, four days after leaving Deadman's Gully.

In dull despair Gray had submitted to Lumley's plan for escaping the police. It had never occurred to him to disbelieve Lumley's statement.

There seemed no reason for the lie, and he remembered Mr. Morton's sudden keen glance at him the night he left the station. If it had leaked out that he had gone searching for Dearing's hidden treasure, they might well suspect him of ridding himself of Harding.

Gray's confidence in himself had altogether gone. Dull despair had taken possession of him. The past he could not bear to think of. The future made him shudder when he looked along the dreary years. What was there left for him to live for?

They had pa.s.sed the hill-country on the second day, and were now crossing a portion of that arid region which lies to the north-west of the mountains. Clay had brought with him a stock of food sufficient for a week or more. There was no danger of starvation. It was water that failed them.

A consuming thirst came upon Gray as the sun rode higher and higher in the heavens. It was ten hours since he had tasted water, and his lips and throat were becoming baked and painful.

"You are sure you know the track?" he said to Lumley, checking his horse to look round him.