eat, "we shall see.
Don't try to coerce me, sir; don't try to coerce _me_!"

"I haven't the least desire in that direction." Benjamin's face assumed
the expression of a cherub. "Nothing is further from my thoughts. I know
of a good thing--my special knowledge qualifies me to make the most
of it; I offer you the refusal of 'chipping in' with me, and you, I
understand, refuse. Very well, Mr. Crewe, _I_ am satisfied; _you_ are
satisfied; all is amicably settled. I go to place my offer where it will
be accepted. Good evening, sir."

Benjamin put his nondescript, weather-worn hat on his semi-bald head,
and departed with as much dignity as his ponderous person could assume.

"And now," said Mr. Crewe to himself, as the departing figure of the
goldsmith disappeared, "we will go and see the result of our little bet;
we will see whether we have lost or gained the sum of five pounds."

The old man, taking his stick firmly in his hand, stumped down the
passage to the door of the room where the gamblers played, and, as he
turned the handle, he was greeted with a torrent of shouts, high words,
and the noise of a falling table.

There, on the floor, lay gold and bank notes, scattered in every
direction amid broken chairs, playing cards, and struggling men.

Mr. Crewe paused on the threshold. In the whirl and dust of the tumult
he could discern the digger's wilderness of hair, the bulky form of
Garsett, and the thin American, in a tangled, writhing mass. His friend
Cathro was looking on with open mouth and trembling hands, ineffectual,
inactive. But Scarlett, making a sudden rush into the melee, seized the
lucky digger, and dragged him, infuriated, struggling, swearing, from
the unwieldy Garsett, on whose throat his grimy fingers were tightly
fixed.

"Well, well," exclaimed Mr. Crewe. "Landlord! landlord! Scarlett, be
careful--you'll strangle that man!"

Scarlett pinioned the digger's arms from behind, and rendered him
harmless; Garsett sat on the floor fingering his throat, and gasping;
while Lichfield lay unconscious, with his head under the broken table.

"Fair play!" shouted the digger. "I've bin robbed. Le'me get at him.
I'll break his blanky neck. Cheat a gen'leman at cards, will you? Le'me
get at him. Le'go, I tell yer--who's quarrelling with _you_?" But he
struggled in vain, for Scarlett's hold on him was tighter than a vice's.

"Stand quiet, man," he expostulated. "There was no cheating."

"The fat bloke fudged a