pers? Danged if I can see them
anywhere."

Into the kitchen stumped the Pilot of Timber Town, weary from his work.
Catching sight of Rachel, he paused half-way between the door and the
table. "Well, well," he said, "I beg pardon, I'm sure--bellowing like an
old bull walrus at my dar'ter. But the gal knows her old Dad--don't you,
Rosebud? He don't mean nothing at all."

In a moment, Rose had the old man's slippers in her hand, and the Pilot
sat down and commenced to take off his boots and to put on the more
comfortable footgear.

Rachel was on her feet in a moment.

"I must be going," she said. "Which way do I get out?"

"Rosebud, show the young lady the door--she's in a hurry." The Pilot
never so much as took his eyes off the boot that he was unlacing.

Leading the way through the intricate passages, Rose conducted Rachel to
the front door, and came back, smiling.

"Now, what does _she_ want?" asked the Pilot. "She's a mighty strange
craft to be sailing in these waters. There's a queer foreign rake about
her t'gallant mast that's new to me. Where's she owned, Rosebud?"

"That's Miss Varnhagen."

"What! the Jew's dar'ter? Well, well. That accounts for the cut of her
jib. Old Varnhagen's dar'ter? 'Want to sell anything?"

Rose laughed. "Oh, no. She came, fishing."

"Fishing?"

"Fishing for news. She's very anxious to know how much gold Mr. Scarlett
has got; in fact, she's very anxious to know all about Mr. Scarlett."

The old Pilot laughed, till the shingles of the roof were in danger of
lifting. "The wimmen, oh! the wimmen!" he said. "They're deep. There's
no sounding 'em. No lead'll bottom them. You'll have to protect that
young man, my gal; protect him from scheming females. Once they can
lure him on a lee shore, they'll wreck him to pieces and loot the cargo.
So she wanted to know how he was freighted? He's down to Plimsoll, my
gal; down to Plimsoll with gold. A mighty fine cargo for wreckers!"

* * *

At the very time that Rachel was walking out of the garden of roses,
Scarlett was turning into The Lucky Digger. He had come in from the
"bush," weary and tired, and was met in the passage by a man who packed
stores to the new gold-field. In the bar stood Isaac Zahn, who was
flirting with the bar-maid. But the regal dispenser of liquors responded
to the young clerk's sallies with merely the brief politeness which she
was paid to show towards all the customers of the inn. He could e