ere's another flaring
article in the local paper. A good many men tried all they knew to
be prepared and have a show for it; but there was only one that ever
managed to come out right.

We didn't mean to turn out all in a minute. We'd had a rough time of it
lately, and we wanted to wait and take it easy in the Hollow and close
about for a month or so before we began business.

Starlight and I wanted to let our beards grow. People without any hair
on their faces are hardly ever seen in the country now, except they've
been in gaol lately, and of course we should have been marked men.

We saw no reason why we shouldn't take it easy. Starlight was none too
strong, though he wouldn't own it; he wouldn't have fainted as he did if
he had. He wanted good keep and rest for a month, and so did I. Now that
it was all over I felt different from what I used to do, only half the
man I once was. If we stayed in the Hollow for a month the police might
think we'd gone straight out of the country and slack off a bit. Anyhow,
as long as they didn't hit the trail off to the entrance, we couldn't
be in a safer place, and though there didn't seem much to do we thought
we'd manage to hang it out somehow. One day we were riding all together
in the afternoon, when we happened to come near the gully where Jim and
I had gone up and seen the Hermit's Hut, as we had christened it. Often
we had talked about it since; wondered about the man who had lived in
it, and what his life had been.

This time we'd had all the horses in and were doing a bit of
colt-breaking. Warrigal and Jim were both on young horses that had only
been ridden once before, and we had come out to give them a hand.

'Do you know anything about that hut in the gully?' I asked Starlight.

'Oh yes, all there is to know about it; and that's not much. Warrigal
told me that, while the first gang that discovered this desirable
country residence were in possession, a stranger accidentally found
out the way in. At first they were for putting him to death, but on
his explaining that he only wanted a solitary home, and should neither
trouble nor betray them, they agreed to let him stay. He was "a big one
gentleman", Warrigal said; but he built the hut himself, with occasional
help from the men. He was liberal with his gold, of which he had a small
store, while it lasted. He lived here many years, and was buried under a
big peach tree that he had planted himself.'

'A queer start, to c