reach, and only required a little tact to grasp. While we
were thus cogitating, a barefooted, wild-looking boy, who seemed as
though he had worked under ground all his life, and was only on the
surface for a few minutes for the sake of astonishing civilization, made
his appearance, threw down a dirty-looking note, and then disappeared as
suddenly as he came.

"What does the fellow mean?" asked Murden, who was lazily swinging in a
hammock, smoking a pipe with infinite relish, and endeavoring to keep
the insects at bay by raising clouds of burnt tobacco.

"We are as much in the dark as yourself," I replied, examining the
superscription of the letter, and finding that the address was to the
"Two Americans, who keep the store."

"Well, open it and enlighten us," the lieutenant said, carelessly, and
we complied, and found that the contents were as follows:--

"BALRAT, AUSTRALE.--You felers is in danger and i wont to tel you
of it, but i mustnt be seen round or i shal be spected and then no
confidince will be plac in me, the felers round think you is agin
um in the mining tack, but i say no, take care of your store to
night, or you wil see the devil. no more now. A MAN YOU BENIFITTED
ONE TIM."

"A pleasant kind of note, truly," remarked Murden, laying down his pipe;
"and I don't believe that the writer of the letter had any idea of
needlessly alarming you. He is evidently your friend, and would call and
give you information were he not fearful of being suspected by his
comrades."

"But what is this danger that we are threatened with?" queried Fred.

"I don't know, but it strikes me very forcibly that I have been the
means of involving you in difficulty. The spy who overheard our plans
last night has evidently reported that you are on the side of
government, and to vent their spite against you is undoubtedly the
object of the disaffected miners. What they intend to do I don't know;
but this I do know--I will have every policeman in Ballarat stationed
around your store before it shall come to harm, and I will lose my own
life but I will preserve yours and your property." Murden spoke with an
air of sincerity and confidence that convinced us he was in earnest.

"Our property," repeated Fred, in a musing tone, and he glanced around
the store, where bale and cask were strewed in confusion.

"That is what is aimed at," cried my friend, suddenly starting up.

"Depend upon it, the villains mean to