ery man and boy living in it, do
I not, Cathro? I know every hill and creek within fifty miles of it;
I've explored every part of the bush, and I tell you I never saw payable
gold in any stream nearer than Maori Gully, to reach which you must go
by sea."

"What about the man's mates?" asked Cathro.

"I asked him about them," replied Scarlett. "I said, 'You have partners
in this thing, I suppose.' 'You mean pals,' he said. 'No, sir. I'm a
hatter--no one knows the place but me. I'm sole possessor of hundreds of
thousands of ounces of gold. There's my Miner's Right.' He threw a dirty
parchment document on the table, drawn out in the name of William
Wurcott."

"Wurcott? Wurcott?" repeated Mr. Crewe, contemplatively. "I don't know
the name. The man doesn't belong to Timber Town."

"You speak as though you thought no one but a Timber Town man should get
these good things." Cathro smiled as he spoke.

"No, sir," retorted the old gentleman, testily. "I said no such thing,
sir. I simply said he did not belong to this town. But you must agree
with me, it's a precious strange thing that we men of this place have
for years been searching the country round here for gold, and, by
Jupiter! a stranger, an outsider, a mere interloper, a miserable
'hatter' from God knows where, discovers gold two days' journey from the
town, and brings in over eighty ounces?" The old man's voice ran up to a
falsetto, he stroked his nose with his forefinger and thumb, he broke
into the shrill laugh of an octogenarian. "And the rascal boasts he can
get a hundred ounces more in a week or two! We must look into the
matter--we must see what it means."

The three men smoked silently and solemnly.

"Scarlett, here, owns the man's personal acquaintance," said Cathro.
"The game is to go mates with him--Scarlett, the 'hatter,' and myself."

All three of them sat silent, and thought hard.

"But what if your 'hatter' won't fraternize?" asked Mr. Crewe. "You
young men are naturally sanguine, but I know these diggers. They may be
communicative enough over a glass, but next day the rack and thumbscrews
wouldn't extract a syllable from them."

"All the more reason why we should go, and see the digger what
time Scarlett deems him to be happy in his cups." This was Cathro's
suggestion, and he added, "If he won't take us as mates, we may at least
learn the locality of his discovery. With your knowledge of the country,
Mr. Crewe, the rest should be easy."

"It