he
chance o' him recoverin', an' draggin' himself out o' the water. Hullo!
what in hell's name's happenin' now? Quick, cut for the scrub; someone's
comin'. I'll hide the bag here. Come back when they've passed.'

Dick heard Rogers throw the calfskin bag into the hollow of the tree and
scrape the loose rubbish over it, and then both glided away in the shadow
of the Red Hand tips. From beyond the tips came the beat of a horse's
hoofs, and the sound of human voices. Dick's first thought was of his
pursuers, the troopers; his second of his escape; his third sent the
blood surging through his veins and his heart beating like a piston. A
grand thought, a magnificent thought! He could have cried out with
exultation as it swept into his mind. Creeping around the tree he
silently unearthed the gold-stealers' bag and dragged it after him,
retreating to the quarry. At the edge of the incline he let the bag
slide, and it went to the bottom with the noise a cow might have made
moving through the scrub. Dick followed, scrambling down the rocks.
Having recovered the bag, he dragged it under the scrub to the opening in
the wall, hastily concealing his tracks. There was some difficulty in
getting the bag through the space in the rock but he managed well; then
he swung it free of the ladder, so that it dropped into the shaft and on
to the broken reef below. He clambered through on to the ladder, drew the
loose scrub ferns into their places, and fitted into the crevice the
wedge-shaped stone, kept as a last concealment of the retreat.

Standing on the ladder Dick waited, and presently heard sounds of men
making their way into the Gaol Quarry. His suspicions were correct: the
party was seeking him. Presently he heard a voice he recognised as that
of Jim Peetree, saying:

'This is the spot, boss; I've seen him here scores o' times. If he ain't
here I give it up.'

Dick heard the jingle of spurs, and an authoritative voice.

'Search all about amongst the scrub and the rocks. Keep my horse ready in
case the boy makes a bolt for it.'

There were three or four men, Peterson and McKnight amongst them. They
searched industriously, coming pretty close to Dick's hiding place more
than once.

'We should have let the other lad go and have followed him,' said the
authoritative voice. 'Fancy three troopers being kept a whole day and
half the night dancing after a bit of a kid.'

Dick's heart thrilled at this.

'Well, he's not here, that's ce