e?"

"True, I did; I had forgotten. But where are the police now?"

"Gone back to the port. How did you know they had been?"

"From the blacks."

"There, I knew it!" cried Nic. "The cunning rascals, and they pretended
they had no idea of where you were."

"Poor fellows," said the convict, smiling bitterly; "they are faithful
enough."

"But they might have told me," said Nic. "Even you don't seem to trust
me now."

"How can a man, who is hunted like a wild beast with dogs and black
trackers, trust any one, boy?" cried the convict fiercely. "You know
what it would have been if they had found me, and I had run instead of
surrendering. They would have shot me down like a savage beast."

Nic nodded as he gazed up at the fierce countenance, whose eyes seemed
to glare down at him.

"There," continued the convict, "you have found me. Of course you know
there is a heavy reward. You can earn it for pocket money."

"Yes," cried Nic, speaking fiercely now, "and go over to the village
tuck shop, and spend it with my school-fellows."

"Of course," said the man banteringly. "Only there's one drawback, boy.
You are caught in a trap there, and when you are found there will only
be your bones."

"Oh, I say, Leather, what a savage you have turned! I say, have a bit
of damper? I have some left."

The man made no reply for a few moments. Then, in an altered tone:

"Have you found any way out?"

"No. It is a regular trap; but I was thirsty, and I came down to drink.
Fell half the way," said Nic, holding up a bleeding hand.

"I went down the same way," said the convict quietly.

"Then there is a way out?" said Nic sharply.

"Yes, over the brink yonder."

"Oh yes, I found that out," said Nic, with a laugh; "but I don't want to
break my neck. How did you get out?"

"Over there," said the convict quietly. "It requires a steady head, but
you can creep along a narrow ledge, and get back to the top here, three
or four hundred yards farther on. I did not find it out till I was
nearly starved to death."

"Poor old chap," said Nic quietly. "I say, this sounds more like you."

"Does it? Did any one see you coming?"

"Bungarolo. But I sent him home before I was halfway here."

"He would not tell tales, poor fellow. They have had my life in their
hands ever since."

"But, I say, Leather, it's awkward talking like this. I'll come up to
you;" and he moved toward the edge.

"No, no, don't stir," cried t