ecovered from the surprise of the inspector's mysterious
disappearance, when our old acquaintances, Charley, the proprietor of
the "Californian's Retreat," and "Big Ben," made their appearance, and
seated themselves upon boxes in our tent without the formality of being
asked. Ben was smoking away desperately at a short pipe, nearly as black
as his beard, while Charley, as became the owner of an established
business, confined his attention to a cigar which are vulgarly called,
in this country, "short sixes," I believe.

"I s'pose you hain't forgot old friends nor nothing?" Charley said, as
he carefully laid aside his cigar, to be resumed some other time, while
he accepted a pot of coffee at the hands of Smith.

"We have thought of you often since we parted," replied Fred, with a
slight flight of imagination.

"Do tell if you have? Well, I declare to man, if you two fellers don't
beat all natur, and no mistake. You don't 'pear to make any thing of
fighting duels, and then hiring folks to dig other folks out of a mine.
I tell Ben, here, ef I had known you had the dust to spare I should have
axed you to discount a note for me for sixty days, payable at sight,
with interest. You wouldn't want to do any such thing as that, I s'pose?
No, I reckoned not."

For the first time we really noticed our countryman's peculiar dialect
and manners, and it gave us more pleasure to see a genuine Yankee at the
mines of Ballarat than it would had we found a nugget weighing a pound.

"We have but little money, and from appearances I think we shall need
all we have brought with us," replied Fred.

"You'd better believe you will," said Ben, with an ominous shake of the
head, as though he had passed through the furnace of experience.

"What we came here to see you fellers for," Charley said, after a slight
pause, and an exchange wink with Ben, "is to know how you stand in
regard to this 'ere mining tax, which is crushing the life blood out of
the vitals of us honest working men, and making us think of Bunker Hill
and the American Eagle, I can tell you?"

"Really," Fred answered, after a moment's thought, "I am too fresh an
arrival at the mines to give an opinion as yet, and I think we shall
have to wait and see how grievous the tax is."

"Ain't that what I told you?" grunted Ben, appealing to Charley.

"You just wait a while, will ye, old feller," remonstrated Charley.
"Things is working. I tell ye."

"We shall be happy to listen to