er time. But the great thing is to find it. I have
never been able to do so yet. Find it. The fighting is a secondary
consideration."

"Then you really think these Bushmen are still knocking about the spot?"
said Sellon, uneasily, with a furtive glance around, as if he expected a
flight of poisoned arrows to come pouring into the camp then and there.

"Undoubtedly. But they are a wandering crew. They may be there, or
they may be a hundred miles off. However, the fact that they have only
interfered with me once out of the four attempts I have made is proof
that the chances in our favour are three to one. That's pretty fair
odds, isn't it?"

"Yes; I suppose so. But, I say, Fanning, humbug apart, do you really
mean to say you've made four trips all by yourself into that infernal
country? All by yourself, too?"

"Certainly. It's odd, by the way, what money will do--or the want of
it. If I had a comfortable sufficiency, even, I'd let the thing go
hang--make it over to you or any other fellow, and welcome. But here I
am, desperately hard up--stone-broke, in fact. And I have a good few
years more to live in this world, and one can't live on air. So one
must risk something. But, mind you, I don't care for inordinate wealth.
I only want enough to be able to steer clear of pinching--perhaps help
other fellows along a bit--at any rate, to move on equal terms with the
rest of mankind."

"Well, you're moderate enough, anyhow," said Sellon. "Now, I could
never have too much. By Jove! if we do succeed, eh? Only think of it!"

"I've thought of it so often, Sellon. I must be used to the idea. But,
as I said, it's only a case of rolling on tranquilly--no more pinching
or scraping, with the ghastly alternative of borrowing. That's all I
care about."

The quiet, unimpassioned tone, so different to the suppressed excitement
which he had brought to bear on the subject when it was first mentioned,
struck the other all of a sudden. But for himself and his own presence,
Fanning would likely enough have been as keen on this treasure hunt as
he used to be--keener perhaps. And like a glimmer upon Maurice Sellon's
selfish soul came the idea. What if Fanning were trying to enrich him
for Violet's sake? Yet could it be? Such a stupendous act of
self-abnegation was clean outside his own experience of the world and
human nature--which experience was not small.

The night was wearing on. Suddenly a loud and frightful