The Tale of Timber Town Part 59

But Jack is on his feet and, above the many voices, roars, "Order!"

"Quiet."

"Sit down."

"Stop that row."

"Order for the boss of the League."

Before long all is still, and the lucky owners of the gold which lies in bags upon the table, listen eagerly for the announcement of the returns.

"Gentlemen,"--Scarlett's face wears a pleasant smile, which betokens a pleasant duty--"as some of you are aware, the result of our first wash-up is a record for the colony. It totals 18,000 oz., and this, at the current price of Bush Robin gold--which I ascertained in Timber Town during my last visit--gives us a return of 69,750."

Here Jack is interrupted by tremendous cheering.

"Of this sum," he continues, when he can get a hearing, "your Committee suggests the setting aside, for the payment of liabilities and current expenses, the sum of 9750, which leaves 60,000 to be divided amongst the members of the League."

Upon this announcement being made, an uproar ensues, an uproar of unrestrained jubilation which shakes the shingle roof, and the noise of which reaches far down the street of Canvas Town and across the flats, where clay-stained diggers pause amid their dirt-heaps to remark in lurid language that the toffs are having "an almighty spree over their blanky wash-up."

"I rise to make a propothition," says a long, thin, young Gold Leaguer, with a yellow beard and a slight lisp. "I rise to suggest that we send down to Reiley's for all hith bottled beer, and drink the health of our n.o.ble selves."

The motion is seconded by every man in the room rising to his feet and cheering.

Six stalwart Leaguers immediately go to wait upon the proprietor of The Golden Reef, and whilst they are transacting their business their mates sing songs, the choruses of which float through the open windows over the adjacent country. The dirt-stained owners of the Hatters' Folly claim hear the members of the League asking to be "wrapped up in an old stable jacket," and those working in the Four Brothers' claim learn the truth about "the place where the old horse died."

At length the forage-party arrives with the liquor, and there follows the unholy sound of the drawing of corks.

By this time all Canvas Town has learnt what business is going forward in "the Toffs' Shanty," and from both sides of the river the diggers begin to a.s.semble in antic.i.p.ation of a "spree." Across the scarred, disfigured valley, over the mullock-heaps, from every calico tent, from out of every shaft, from the edge of the dark forest itself, bearded men, toil-stained but smiling, bent on festivity, collect in Canvas Town's one ramshackle street.

Between the calico shanties and along the miry, uneven ways, men stand in groups, their conversation all of the luck of "the toffs." But around the Office of the Gold League the crowd is greatest, and the cheers of the members are echoed by the diggers outside.

Bill the Prospector and Moonlight are on guard at the door, for though they have no interest in the League's claims, as owners of the two richest patches on the field they stand hand-in-glove with the leaders of that strong combination. Inside, Scarlett has risen to his feet, amid prolonged cheering.

"We have not decided yet, gentlemen," he says, "whether we shall take our dividends in gold or in cheques; and this causes me to allude to a most disagreeable matter. It is well known that the agent of the Kangaroo Bank has been robbed of a considerable amount of gold and perhaps murdered, on his way between this field and Timber Town."

Suddenly the room is filled with groans, deep and sepulchral, which are immediately repeated by the growing crowd outside.

"Evidently," continues Jack, "it is not safe for a man to travel with gold on his person; I therefore wish to propose that payments be made by cheque, and that all members not absolutely needed on the claims form themselves into an escort to convey the gold to Timber Town. And when we adjourn, I suggest that a meeting of all diggers on the field be called for the purpose of forming a vigilance committee, for the detection and suppression of crime on the diggings."

He sits down amid renewed cheering. This has barely subsided and the long, thin young man, who appears to be a person of importance in the League, has risen to speak, when a considerable disturbance occurs outside.

During Scarlett's speech four mounted constables have wended their way through the groups of diggers standing in the street. They dismount in front of the League's Office, and ascend the steps, at the top of which they come into violent altercation with Moonlight and the Prospector.

These are immediately ordered in the Queen's name to stand aside, and the four blue-coated men walk into the meeting.

The tall, thin, young man, catching sight of the intruders, pauses in his speech, and says, "What the deyvil!" but the constables walk straight to the improvised table, and their leader, laying his hand on Scarlett's shoulder, say, "John Richard Scarlett, you are charged with the murder of Isaac Zahn. I arrest you in the Queen's name."

For half a minute there rests on the a.s.sembly a silence that can be felt. Then there bursts a roar of indignation from fifty throats. In a moment the constables have closed round their prisoner, and with drawn revolvers they stand ready to resist interference.

Not many of "the toffs" are armed, but such as are quickly draw their weapons, and it only needs a single shot to start a fight which must end disastrously for the Law, when Scarlett's voice rings out, "Stand back, you fellows! For G.o.d's sake, don't fire! This thing is a mistake which will be more quickly cleared up before a Magistrate than by bloodshed."

Expostulating, but obedient to his wish, his friends one by one lower their weapons.

"_I_ know nothing of a mistake," says the Sergeant, as he takes a piece of paper from his pocket. "But here's the warrant, which any gentleman present is at liberty to see. We are but carrying out our duty."

The handcuffs are now on Scarlett's wrists, and his captors lead him slowly through the crowded room.

"Let me speak." Filled with emotion which he can hardly suppress, Jack's voice almost seems to choke him. "Let me speak before you take me away."

"Not a word," retorts the Sergeant. "You shall say all you want to the Magistrate."

"Men," cries Scarlett, as he is hustled through the door, "I am innocent, I swear." But he has no time to say more. He is hurried down the steps; he is quickly placed on a spare horse; the constables spring into their saddles, and ere the great concourse of diggers can grasp what is happening, Jack is conducted at a trot through the town of canvas, along the track which leads to Timber Town, and is soon out of sight.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV.

The Goldsmith Comes to Town the Third Time.

The flash digger put his elbows on the table, and leered at Gentle Annie who sat, radiant, at the other side of the board.

"You must have made quite a pile."

"My dear, it's never wise to tell a woman all you know or all you've got. But I don't mind telling you this much: I had luck, or I wouldn't be able to satisfy _your_ little whims."

He put his hand into his breast pocket, and drew out a plush-covered case.

"You asked for the biggest diamond in Timber Town, and here it is."

He opened the case, and took out a gold ring, in which was set a stone, fully a carat-and-a-half in weight. Gentle Annie's eyes glittered almost as brightly as the facets of the diamond.

"Dear little jewels for our dear girls." The flash digger held up the brilliant between his finger and thumb. "That bit of carbon cost me 30."

He pa.s.sed the ring to the girl, who eagerly tried it, first on one finger, then on another.

"Lovely!" she exclaimed: then, as the sudden suspicion struck her, she asked, "You're sure it's real?"

"Well, I'll be----." But he restrained himself. "My dear, if it's shnein, the bargain's off."

Gentle Annie had risen, and was scratching with the stone the gla.s.s of a picture-frame which held a gaudy chromo-lithograph.

As she did so, the digger rose, and encircled her waist with his arm.

"Well, are you satisfied?"

"Quite," she replied, with a laugh. "It bites like a glazier's diamond."