ver the sorrows of a noble and generous youth
driven to crime by persecution, and outlawed through the machinations of
an unscrupulous constabulary. So real could he make these sentimental
fancies that her keen sorrow for him filled him with acute emotions of
self-pity, and a large tear actually rolled down his freckled nose.

Suddenly romance was swept out of his mind, and wonder and fear possessed
him. Throwing himself forward, he crept noiselessly to a rotten trunk
over grown with suckers that lay between him and the Red Hand shaft, and,
raising himself on his hands, peered through the bushes. A belt of pale
golden light, thrown by the rising moon between the converging tips, lay
right across the mouth of the shaft; and up through the rusty bark of the
door were thrust a thin long hand and a bony arm. As Dick gazed,
trembling and amazed, a second hand appeared. He heard the rattle of a
chain, the click of a lock; then the door was thrust upwards and let
noiselessly back upon the timber. Now a man's head came into view, and up
out of the shaft crawled a figure that Dick recognised in spite of the
precautions taken. Reaching into the darkness of the shaft, the man, who
remained on his knees in a crouching position, drew up a skin bag
containing something of considerable weight apparently; then came another
head, and a second man slid, snake-like, from the shaft. At the sight of
the second, Dick, whose heart seemed to have swollen within him to an
enormous size, gasped aloud; he heard a warning 'Hush!' from the shaft,
and lay perfectly still. The door was closed, the lock clicked again, and
when he ventured to look the two men were stealing away towards the
quarry. The boy crept after them to the extent of the trunk behind which
he was hidden, and when he looked again they had disappeared. Creeping
silently in the shadows and amongst the scrub ferns, Dick followed until,
resting a moment, he heard distinctly the words:

'Why did you hit him again? Good God! did you want to kill him?' The
voice was Ephraim Shine's.

'No. That won't kill him. Don't be so blasted chicken-hearted I didn't
want to be seen, you ass!' Dick knew the voice for that of Joe Rogers,
whose face he had seen in the moonlight.

'The lick I gave him was enough; it must 'a' stunned him.' Shine spoke in
a low voice.

'D'yer think he recognised you?' asked Rogers hoarsely.

'No, I was in the shadder. I d'know, though--I d'know.'

'Listen here, an' t