gold is lost?" he asked.

"We all do," replied Fred; "the bag was not to be found where Jack
placed it."

"I know that," the old man answered, with a silent chuckle.

"How do you know that it was gone!' I demanded.

"Why, because when you threw it down, I picked it up, and made my way
out of the woods as fast as possible."

"And the bushrangers took it from you?" I demanded.

"I didn't say so," the stockman replied, coolly.

"You don't mean to tell me that the money is safe?" asked Fred.

"Well, I should think it was, because I don't believe that any
bushranger would discover the place where I hid it." "Bless your old
heart!" cried Smith, slapping him on the shoulder; "you are worth a
dozen of us young ones. But why didn't you say something about it
before?"

"And let those police fellers share with us? No, no; I know too much for
that; they would have required at least half the amount found, and I
didn't think my young friends here would be willing to be bled to such
an extent. They shall have the money, and can do as they please. I have
redeemed my word; I promised to assist them, for they have assisted me;
and when I have placed the gold in their hands, I shall think that I
have only paid them a small portion of the debt which I owe them."

We were too much surprised and delighted to speak for some time, for the
recovery of the money was something we were not prepared for.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

RECOVERY OF THE GOLD.--ARRIVAL AT BALLARAT.

"Lead us to the spot where you have secreted our gold," we cried, with
one accord.

"There's time enough," replied the old man; "I tell you that it is safe,
and where I can get it any time. What more would you have?"

"We would have the assurance that we possess it, so that we can reward
those who have aided us in searching for it. We wish to feel that we are
indeed worth so much money, so that we can lay our plans for the
future."

"Do you say that you wish to reward those who helped you obtain it?"
asked the stockman, removing his pipe and pricking up his ears.

"Of course we do," replied Fred, eagerly; "do you think that we are so
selfish as to claim the whole of the prize?"

"It's not for myself that I ask; 'tis for my daughter, who, in case I am
called to rest, will be destitute. Every pound shall be returned to you,
and then if you think from out of your abundant means, you can spare the
old convict and his child a few grains of dust, why, we shall b