shrill treble. "Yes, indeed, it _must_."

They were sitting in the Timber Town Club: the ancient Mr. Crewe,
Scarlett, and Cathro, a little man who rejoiced in the company of the
rich octogenarian.

"I'm new at this sort of thing," said Scarlett: "I've just come off
the sea. But when the digger took a big bit of gold from his pocket, I
looked at it, open-eyed--I can tell you that. I called the landlord, and
ordered drinks--I thought that the right thing to do. And, by George! it
was. The ruffianly-looking digger drank his beer, insisted on calling
for more, and then locked the door."

Mr. Crewe was watching the speaker closely, and hung on every word he
uttered. Glancing at the lean and wizened Cathro, he said, "You hear
that, Cathro? He locked the door, sir. Did you ever hear the like?"

"From inside his shirt," Scarlett continued, "he drew a fat bundle of
bank notes, which he placed upon the table. Taking a crisp one-pound
note from the pile, he folded it into a paper-light, and said, 'I could
light my pipe with this an' never feel it.'

"'Don't think of such a thing,' I said, and placed a sovereign on the
table, 'I'll toss you for it.'

"'Right!' said my hairy friend. 'Sudden death?'

"'Sudden death,' I said.

"'Heads,' said he."

"Think of that, now!" exclaimed Mr. Crewe. "The true digger, Cathro, the
true digger, I know the _genus_--there's no mistaking it. Most
interesting. Go on, sir."

"The coin came down tails, and I pocketed the bank-note.

"'Lookyer here, mate,' said my affluent friend. 'That don't matter.
We'll see if I can't get it back,' and he put another note on the table.
I won that, too. He doubled the stakes, and still I won.

"'You had luck on the gold-fields,' I said, 'but when you come to town
things go dead against you.'

"'Luck!' he cried. 'Now watch me. If I lost the whole of thisyer
bloomin' pile, I could start off to-morrer mornin' an, before nightfall,
I'd be on ground where a week's work would give me back all I'd lost.
An' never a soul in this blank, blank town knows where the claim is.'"

"Well, well," gasped old Mr. Crewe; his body bent forward, and his eyes
peering into Scarlett's face. "I've lived here since the settlement was
founded. I got here when the people lived in nothing better than Maori
_whares_ and tents, when the ground on which this very club stands
was a flax-swamp. I have seen this town grow, sir, from a camp to the
principal town of a province. I know ev