Sinkum examined the goods; he made his offer; whereat the wild man
swung his boomerang disagreeably, and indicated that he must have
"more, more." Tears of self-pity flooded Sinkum's eyes. He had no
choice but to obey, and at last the black-fellow left with a sack
containing ten times the value of the goods the storeman had been
forced to buy. He had been cheated, cruelly used; he was a poor
man, and could not stand such losses. The things were of no
value--none; but if he had not bought them he would have been a
dead man.

Sinkum's hands were no longer in his sleeves--he had made dramatic
passes, illustrative of the fearful fate that might have befallen
him.

It presented to Eustace's mind a vivid picture--the black-fellow
with poised boomerang standing over the shrinking Chinkee,
threatening his life if he did not obey the exorbitant demands.

To Mrs. Orban came another thought. There apparently really were
black-fellows in the neighbourhood--a whole tribe living in the
Bush.

The story of the poor white man strung up in the wood made the
listeners shudder. Such a thing had never come into their
experience, but they knew the terrible possibility of it. Many a
man has been so detained in the Bush, riding inadvertently against
the "wait-a-bit" or "lawyer cane." It springs round its victim like
a coiled spring, and he is helpless to free himself if his arms
happen to be pinioned. Who could this particular poor fellow have
been, found not far from the plantation? No one would ever know,
Mrs. Orban reflected pitifully.

"And what were the things you had to buy, Sinkum Fung?" asked
Eustace, with intense interest.

Sinkum searched amongst his curious garments and produced a handful
of things, which he set solemnly down upon the table beside Mrs.
Orban, watching her narrowly, to see what effect his action
produced.

She gave a start of surprise.

"Why," said Eustace, springing to his feet, "this is the servants'
jewellery, and their watches. The black-fellow never got them off
any dead white man at all; he stole them straight out of our
house."

Sinkum nodded drearily.

So he had discovered, he said. When too late he had heard of
the reward for the catching of that black-fellow. He could
only claim the reward for returning the goods; but surely the
good missee would not let him lose so much. He had given ten
times the value of those things, and thus only had he saved
them from the black-fellow.

In his