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'I can't say, my boy.'
'Well, I'll tell you. Know what Sagacious done?'
'Sagacious? Who is he?'
'Sam Sagacious--Sleuth-hound Sam.'
Harry looked puzzled.
'What, don't you know Sleuth-hound Sam? He's a great feller in a book, what tracks down criminals. Listen here. One time a chap what was a mate of his got put in gaol for stealin' money from a bank where he worked, when it wasn't him at all. Sam, he went an' got a job at the same bank, and that's how he found out the coves 'at done it.'
The young man turned upon d.i.c.k, and sat for a moment following up the inference. Then he gripped the latter's hand.
'By thunder!' he cried excitedly, 'that's a better idea than I could hit on in a week.'
d.i.c.k did not doubt it; he had but a poor opinion of the resourcefulness of his elders when not figuring in the pages of romantic literature, but he was gratified by Harry's ready recognition of his talent, and proceeded to enlarge upon the peculiar qualities of Sleuth-hound Sam, give instances of his methods, and relate some of his many successes.
At tea that evening Harry broached the subject of his visit to the chapel. He knew his mother would hear of it, and thought it best she should have the melancholy story from his lips.
'Do you see much of s.h.i.+ne's daughter, mother?' he asked.
'I do not see her often, but she has grown into a tall, handsome girl; very different from the wild little thing you rescued from the cattle on the common eight years ago.'
'Yes; I've seen her--saw her in the chapel this morning.'
'In the chapel,' said Mrs. Hardy, turning upon him with surprise; 'were you in the chapel, Henry?'
Harry nodded rather shamefacedly.
'Yes, mother,' he said, 'I went to chapel, an' took my whip with me. I meant to scruff s.h.i.+ne before the lot o' them, an' lash him black an'
blue.'
'That was shameful--shameful!
'Anyhow, I didn't do it. She came an' put me off, an' I sneaked out as if I'd been licked myself. I couldn't have hammered the brute before her eyes, but--but--'
'But you meant to; is that it? Henry, you almost make me despair. Have you no more respect for yourself? Have you none for me?'
'I couldn't stand it. You've heard. It made me mad!'
'I have heard all, and I think Mr. s.h.i.+ne is a well intentioned man whose faith, such as it is, is honest; but he is ignorant, coa.r.s.e-fibred, and narrow-minded. He is doing right according to his own poor, dim light, and could not be convinced otherwise by any word or act of ours; but his preachings can do me no injury. They do not irritate me in the least--indeed, I am not sure that they do not amuse me.'
'Ah, mother, that's like you; you philosophise your way through a difficulty, and I always want to fight my way out. It's so much easier.'
'Yes, dear; but do you get out? Do you know that Ephraim s.h.i.+ne is the most litigious man in the towns.h.i.+p? He runs to the law with every little trouble, whilst inviting his neighbours to carry all theirs to the Lord.
Had you beaten him he would have proceeded against you, and--Oh! my boy, my boy! are you going to make my troubles greater? And I had such hopes.'
'Hush, mother. 'Pon my soul, I won't! I'm going to hold myself down tight after this. An', look here, I've got an idea. I'm going to Pete Holden to-morrow to ask him to put me on at the Stream, same s.h.i.+ft as poor Frank was on, if possible.'
'Put on the brother of the man who--'
'Yes, mother, the brother of the thief. But Holden is a good fellow; he spoke up for Frank like a brick. Besides, d'you know what the men are saying? That the gold-stealing is still going on. I'll tell Holden as much, an' promise to watch, an' watch, like a cat, if he'll only send me below.'
'Yes, yes; we can persuade him. I wonder we did not think of this before.'
''Twas young d.i.c.k Haddon put me up to it, with some yarn of his about a detective.'
'Bless the boy! he is unique--the worst and the best I have ever known.
Johnnie, how dare you?'
The last remark was addressed to Gable, who had been eating industriously for the last quarter of an hour. The old man, finding himself ignored, had smartly conveyed a large spoonful of jam from the pot to his mouth.
He choked over it now, and wriggled and blushed like a child taken red-handed.
''Twas only a nut,' he said sulkily.
'You naughty boy! Will you never learn how to behave at table? Come here, sir. Ah, I see; as I suspected. You did not shave this morning. Go straight to bed after you have finished your tea. How dare you disobey me, you wicked boy!'
Gable knuckled his eyes with vigour, and began to snivel. He hated to have a beard on his chin, but would put off shaving longer than Mrs.
Hardy thought consistent with perfect neatness. The ability to shave himself was the one manly accomplishment Gable had learned in a long life.
This ludicrous incident had not served to draw Harry's thoughts from his project. All his life he had seen his Uncle Jonnie treated as a child, and there was nothing incongruous in the situation, even 'when the grey-haired boy was rated for neglecting to shave or sent supperless to bed for similar sins of omission or commission. To Mrs. Hardy also it was a simple serious business of domestic government. Ever since she was ten years old Uncle John, who was many years her senior, had been her baby brother and her charge, and although gifted with a good sense of humour, the necessity of admonis.h.i.+ng him did not interfere with the gravity of mind she had brought to bear on the former conversation.
'Mr. Holden was an old friend of your father's, Henry,' she said.
'I know,' Harry replied. 'They were mates at Buninyong and Bendigo. I'll remind him of that.'
Harry Hardy found Manager Holden in his office at the Silver Stream when he called on the following morning.
'Couldn't do it, my lad,' said the old miner; 'but I'll put in a word for you with Hennessey at the White Crow.'
'I want a job here on the Stream--want it for a purpose,' said Harry.
'There'd be a row. The people at Yarraman would kick up, after the other affair. I'd be glad to, Harry; but you'd best try somewhere else.'
'Mr. Holden,' said the young man, 'do you believe my brother guilty?'
The manager met his eager eyes steadily.
''Tisn't a fair question, lad,' he answered. 'I always found Frank straight, an' he looked like an honest man; but that evidence would have d.a.m.ned a saint.'
'Do you think the gold-stealing has stopped?'
The manager looked up sharply.
'Do you know anything?'
'I know what the men hint at; nothing more. If they could speak straight they wouldn't do it.'
'Well, to tell you G.o.d's truth, Hardy, I believe we are still losing gold.'