for I saw
twenty or thirty sovereigns when he shouted; and he doesn't seem to care
a damn whether we stand in with him or not."

"There you are! That's just where it is!" said Smith, with some
logic, but in a tone a wife uses in argument (which tone, by the way,
especially if backed by logic or common sense, makes a man wild sooner
than anything else in this world of troubles).

Steelman jerked his chair half-round in disgust. "That's you!" he
snorted, "always suspicious! Always suspicious of everybody and
everything! If I found myself shot into a world where I couldn't trust
anybody I'd shoot myself out of it. Life would be worse than not worth
living. Smith, you'll never make money, except by hard graft--hard,
bullocking, nigger-driving graft like we had on that damned railway
section for the last six months, up to our knees in water all winter,
and all for a paltry cheque of one-fifty--twenty of that gone already.
How do you expect to make money in this country if you won't take
anything for granted, except hard cash? I tell you, Smith, there's
a thousand pounds lost for every one gained or saved by trusting too
little. How did Vanderbilt and----"

Steelman elaborated to a climax, slipping a glance warily, once or
twice, out of the tail of his eye through the ferns, low down.

"There never was a fortune made that wasn't made by chancing it."

He nudged Smith to come to the point. Presently Smith asked, sulkily:

"Well, what was he saying?"

"I thought I told you! He says he's behind the scenes in this gold boom,
and, if he had a hundred pounds ready cash to-morrow, he'd make three of
it before Saturday. He said he could put one-fifty to one-fifty."

"And isn't he worth three hundred?"

"Didn't I tell you," demanded Steelman, with an impatient ring, and
speaking rapidly, "that he lost his mail in the wreck of the 'Tasman'?
You know she went down the day before yesterday, and the divers haven't
got at the mails yet."

"Yes.... But why doesn't he wire to Sydney for some stuff?"

"I'm----! Well, I suppose I'll have to have patience with a born
natural. Look here, Smith, the fact of the matter is that he's a sort of
black-sheep--sent out on the remittance system, if the truth is known,
and with letters of introduction to some big-bugs out here--that
explains how he gets to know these wire-pullers behind the boom. His
people have probably got the quarterly allowance business fixed hard
and tight with a bank o