y the town clean over your head."

"Give the patient some more brandy, my dear." Tresco's voice sounded as
sonorous as a parson's. "Now he's talkin'. And what will you do with the
town when you've bought it, my enterprising friend?"

"I'll turn the present crowd out--they're too mean to live. I'll sell it
to a set of Chinamen, or niggers. I'd prefer 'em."

"These are the ravings of delirium," said Tresco. "I ask you to pay no
attention to such expressions. We frequently hear things of this sort in
the profession, but we let them pass. He'll be better in the morning."

"Is the money divided?" asked Mr. Crewe.

"Yes," said the landlord. "One hundred and twenty-five pounds and
sixpence in each lot."

"Mr. Garsett," said the Father of Timber Town, the tone of command in
his voice, "come and take your money. Mr. Lichfield, take yours, sir."

Still agitated and confused, the two gamblers came forward, took their
shares, and pocketed notes and gold with trembling hands.

"Give your friend his, Tresco," said the venerable arbitrator.

"Here's your winnings, or your losings," said the goldsmith to the
digger. "It don't matter what name you call 'em by, but tuck it safely
away agin your brisket. And when next you strike it rich, take my
advice: put it in the bank, an' keep it there."

The digger took the money in his open hands, placed scoopwise together,
and said, "All this mine, is it? You're too kind. What do _I_ want the
blanky money for, eh? Didn't I tell you I could get money for the
pickin' of it up? Well, you're all a pretty measly crowd, all as poor as
church rats, by the manners of yer. Well, _you_ pick it up." And he
flung the money among the crowd, lay back on the couch, and closed his
eyes.

There was a scurry, and a scrambling on the floor, in the doorway, and
in the passage outside.

Amid the tumult, Garsett and the American slunk off unperceived, while
Tresco and Mr. Crewe, the landlord, Gentle Annie and Scarlett remained
spectators of the scene.

Soon all was hushed and still, and they were left alone with the
eccentric digger; but presently the tall figure of Moonlight, the man
with the tawny beard, reappeared.

"Here's fifty pound, anyway," he said, placing a quantity of notes and
gold in the landlord's hands. "Some I picked up myself, some I took off
a blackguard I knocked over in the passage. Take the lot, and give it
back to this semi-lunatic when he suffers his recovery in the morning.
Good