ither keep straight or have no relatives
to bear the brunt of their villainies. "But, soft," as they say in the
play, "where am I?" I thought I was a virtuous miner again. Here we are
at this devil-discovered, demon-haunted old Hollow again--first cousin
to the pit of Acheron. There's no help for it, Dick. We must play our
parts gallantly, as demons of this lower world, or get hissed off the
stage.'

. . . . .

We didn't do much for a few days, you may be sure. There was nothing to
do, for one thing; and we hadn't made up our mind what our line was to
be. One thing was certain: there would be more row made about us than
ever. We should have all the police in the country worried and barked
at by the press, the people, the Government, and their superior officers
till they got something to show about us. Living at the diggings under
the nose of the police, without their having the least suspicion who
we were, was bad enough; but the rescue of Jim and the shooting of a
policeman in charge of him was more serious--the worst thing that had
happened yet.

There would be the devil to pay if they couldn't find a track of us. No
doubt money would be spent like water in bribing any one who might give
information about us. Every one would be tried that we had ever been
known to be friendly with. A special body of men could be told off to
make a dart to any spot they might get wind of near where we had been
last seen.

We had long talks and barneys over the whole thing--sometimes by
ourselves with Starlight, sometimes with father. A long time it was
before we settled upon any regular put-up bit of work to do.

Sooner or later we began to see the secret of the Hollow would be
found out. There was no great chance in the old times with only a few
shepherds and stock-riders wandering through the bush, once in a way
straggling over the country. But now the whole colony swarmed with
miners, who were always prospecting, as they called it--that is, looking
out for fresh patches of gold. Now, small parties of these men--bold,
hardy, experienced chaps--would take a pick and shovel, a bucket, and
a tin dish, with a few weeks' rations, and scour the whole countryside.
They would try every creek, gully, hillside, and river bed. If they
found the colour of gold, the least trace of it in a dish of wash-dirt,
they would at once settle down themselves. If it went rich the news
would soon spread, and a thousand men might be gathered