CHAPTER VI.
THE TREASURE FOUND.
Gray's first feeling was one of intense, overpowering relief. Thatdreadful terror which had beset him left him when he saw that it wasindeed Lumley who had followed him. He spoke sharply:
"What do you mean by following me up like this, and skulking in thebrambles? It was a dangerous game, mind you! I might have sent a shotinto them just now, you know."
Lumley looked at him and laughed.
"You're a pretty fellow to go bushranging. When did you look at yourpistols last, eh?"
Gray caught up his pistols and looked at them. The charges had beentampered with. They were useless.
Lumley stood regarding him with vicious amusement in his foxy eyes.
"You'd best have stuck at an honest trade, mate," he said. "You're nogood at bushranging at all. It's been too easy to take you in. Youneedn't look at 'em any more, you know. I made 'em safe enough atStuart's place."
Gray dropped the pistols on the ground.
"How dare you?" he began in a choked voice. Then he checked himself."I'll trouble you to tell me what you mean," he said. "And--"
He made a dash to snatch the revolver from Lumley's hand, but Lumleywas too quick for him. He jumped back and levelled the weapon full atGray.
"Stand where you are or I'll fire," he said coolly. "Move a limb, andyou'll have a bullet into you."
Gray stood still. A cold sweat broke out upon his brow. Lumley haddropped all disguise now. The evil soul of the man looked out from hisface.
"That's better," he said. "Just stand there, will you?" He seatedhimself on some of the fallen _debris_, still keeping his revolverpointed at Gray.
"Now we'll have a comfortable little talk together, mate," he said."You can sit down now if you like."
Gray looked round and carefully chose a seat. The pallid look ofterror had gone from his face. He had recovered his calmness and hispower of thought. He saw clearly enough that he was in Lumley's power.He guessed his reason for following him; and he had determined on hiscourse of action. If Lumley chose to insist upon it, he would tell himDearing's secret and leave him to get the money if he could; and hewould go straight to the nearest station and inform against him. Notfor all the money in the world, Gray declared to himself, would he puthis reputation into this man's keeping.
"That's right, mate. Now we'll be comfortable," said Lumley, with agrin, "and we'll talk about the business that's brought me here. Youknow what it is well enough."
"Well, I can make a pretty good guess," Gray said, carefully selectinga cigar and proceeding to light it. "But you'll have to tell meplainly, you know, before going any further."
The change in Gray's manner was too striking to escape Lumley. Helooked at him with a steady crafty look before answering.
"There ain't no money hid here, I s'pose? You're on a pleasure toor,ain't you? That pick in your knapsack is for ge'logical specimens,ain't it?"
Gray carefully flicked a little ash from the end of his cigar, and thenlooked up.
"You are quite wrong, Lumley. That pick is not meant for geologicalspecimens at all. It's meant to be used for digging up a large sum ofmoney hidden somewhere about here. Unfortunately I don't know where."
"You don't?"
"I haven't the faintest idea. Perhaps you know?"
Lumley glared at him like a wild beast.
"Was that why you were going away?"
Gray nodded.
"Tom Dearing didn't tell you where 'twas hid? Don't you try to deceiveme, man. I'll not stand it. I'll have that swag if I've got to swingfor it to-morrow. What made you go proddin' and pryin' round those oldtrunks for, eh? You tell me that."
"With all the pleasure in life, my man. But I should like to hear afew things from you first. How did you get to know of this money? Imay not be far wrong in supposing you an accomplice of our good friend,lately deceased, Mr. Tom Dearing?"
"I'd wring your neck for tuppence," Lumley muttered savagely.
Gray looked up at him with a pleasant smile.
"What did you say?"
Gray was beginning to feel thoroughly satisfied with himself again. Hefelt himself very much more than a match for Mr. Lumley.
That individual made no reply to his last inquiry.
"So you want to know how I got on this job. I'll tell you quicklyenough. Dearing made a dying speech and confession, didn't he?"
"Something of the kind."
"He'd do that for sure and certain. That was his way. He was alwayshalf-hearted, Tom was. P'r'aps he didn't mention a pal of his, BillClay, eh?"
"I think he did, now I come to think of it. I suppose you are thatgentleman. Is Clay your real name, or one of your many aliases?"
"You're right, mate. I'm Bill Clay, as you'll find out before you'redone with me," said Lumley, with a savage look. "I wasn't in thatbusiness with the bank, but Tom told me he'd hidden the money; but hedidn't tell me where he'd hid it, d'you see. _You've_ got to tell methat, Mr. Gentleman Gray."
Gray leisurely took his cigar from his mouth and said:
"With pleasure, my man, if I knew it myself; but you see I don't."
Lumley gave him a savage frown.
"Think I'm going to believe that? Look here, I'm in a hurry, andyou've just got to tell me all you know. If you don't, I'll--"
He lifted the revolver again with a significant gesture.
Gray did not speak for a moment. His hand might have trembled slightlyas he stroked his moustache, but he showed no other sign of agitation.Lumley watched him narrowly.
"Ain't you goin' to tell me?" he said.
"Yes I am," said Gray; "on one condition."
"What's that?"
"Unload that pretty little weapon of yours, and hand it over to me. Idon't trust you, you see, Mr. Lumley, alias Clay. You might find itconvenient to leave this place all by yourself. Dead men tell notales."
"Good for you they don't, ain't it?" Lumley answered darkly.
Gray looked sharply up.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I don't mean anything. But you're a pretty fellow, ain't you, to crowover me?"
The taunt was more than Gray could bear.
"What do you mean?" he exclaimed again, with sharper emphasis as heleapt to his feet. "How dare you?"
Lumley laughed out--a rough, coarse, jeering laugh, which filled Graywith sickening, helpless rage.
"Don't you be afraid of me," he said; "a partner's always safe with me.I don't set up to be a virtuous cove like you, but a partner's alwayssafe with me. We'll go shares, mate--share and share alike. That's afair offer, ain't it?"
His manner was as coarse and offensive as he could make it. He seemedto find delight in the sort of torture he was inflicting on Gray.
Gray seated himself again and tried hard to recover his coolness.After all, he told himself, he had but to bear Lumley's insults for atime. He had but to wait till they reached a settlement for thishideous partnership to be over.
"It seems to me we are wasting good time, my man," he said, in thelofty tone that so nettled Lumley. "I don't pretend to understand yourinnuendoes, but let that pass. What you want is the money, isn't it?"
"What _I_ want? You don't want it; no, of course not? You didn't comehere to get it?"
Lumley laughed.
"I certainly came here to get it. There's a considerable rewardoffered for its recovery, as I daresay you know. I intended to claimthat reward."
Lumley looked at him in silence for a moment, and then burst out intoanother laugh.
"You are a cove!" he said, when his mirth would let him speak. "Sothat's your game, is it? Bah!"
He spat on the ground in fierce derision, and then with a sudden changeof manner he came close up to Gray.
"Stow all that nonsense, lad. Tell me what Dearing said, and be quickabout it. We're goin' to be fond partners, share and share alike.Come, shell out this minute!"
Gray looke
d up at him; then he took out his note-book and rapidlyreproduced the map he had destroyed, and handed it to Clay without aword. The light was fading, and he took it to the door to examine it.Gray's eyes followed him with a savage concentrated hate in them.
It was the man's coarse scorn of himself that was hardest tobear--harder even than the knowledge that he had lost the money he hadsacrificed so much to gain. Gray had been accustomed to the admirationof his fellow-men. He had been liked and respected wherever he hadbeen. It was horrible to him to be the object of this convict's coarsetaunts and sneers. He, who had so prided himself on his clean name andunblemished record, had fallen low indeed. And he could not feel thatthe taunts were undeserved. Slowly and grudgingly, just for a moment,the curtain that hid his true self was lifted for Gray, and with ashudder he confessed that Lumley did him no wrong in claimingpartnership with him.
His gloomy thoughts were broken into by a chuckle from Clay.
"I always said he was the 'cutest of us all," he declared in anadmiring tone, as he came back to Gray. "Too soft for me. We lost agoodish pile once because he wouldn't use these little beauties," andhe touched the revolver in his hand. "But that 'cute he was; up toevery trick of the profession. You couldn't understand this, couldn'tyou?"
He did not wait for an answer, but went on in a quicker tone.
"Of course you couldn't; you'd have been searching here for a month ofSundays if I hadn't kindly come to help you. '_Big Gum Tree_.' Ha!ha! Tom was 'cute, to be sure."
Gray did not speak; he did not even look up.
"Don't be down on your luck, my lad," said Clay jocosely; "there'senough for both of us. It'll be more than the reward, any way," and hechuckled with a cruel sort of mirth. "You've got a handy little pickin that knapsack of yours; just fetch it, will you?"
"Get it yourself!"
Clay gave him a fierce threatening look.
"None of your airs and graces here, young man. You do what I tell you,or it'll be the worse for you."
He sat down on the block of wood opposite Gray, folded his arms andadded:
"You're the junior partner, and you'll just wait on me, my fine fellow.You go and fetch me that pick to begin with."
Gray ground his teeth with helpless rage, but he got up and took thepick from his knapsack. It was a small slender tool, but very strong.Clay looked at it approvingly.
"Now, you dig up that hearth-stone, mate, and you'll see what you'llsee."
"The hearth-stone?"
"You do what I tell you," returned Lumley with a nod. "You go and digup that hearth-stone."
Gray flung down the pick.
"I won't do anything of the sort. I won't stand any more of this sortof treatment. You may shoot me if you like"--for Lumley had raised hisrevolver--"but do your bidding I won't."
Gray fully expected, even half-wished for, a shot from the revolverLumley held up at him for a moment. But the convict changed his mind.He put the weapon in his pocket and got coolly up.
"Well, if you won't I must," he said, and went over to the hearth-stonethat lay buried under a heap of earth and timber.
Gray sank down on the fallen rafter and buried his face in his hands.No man can look on death and bear an unchanged front, not even thebravest and the most prepared, and Gray was not of these. For a briefmoment he had believed that death was close to him. It was to Lumley'sinterest to kill him now that he knew where the gold was, and there hadbeen murder in his eyes as he had looked across at Gray. And Gray satwith his hands clasped over his eyes, in sick, horrible fear at thethought of himself lying cold and stiff, with eyes staring blindly upat the sky; his soul gone--where?
At the other end of the hut Clay was busy. He dashed away the heap ofrubbish on the hearth-stone, and digging the pick into the loose earthround it, dragged it up without much difficulty. A cry of exultationbroke from him as he did so. Embedded in the ground below thehearth-stone lay a small tin box, bound round and round with whipcord.To drag up the box, cut the already decaying cord, and wrench open thecover was the work of a moment. Two or three wrappings of thick brownpaper lay over the contents of the box. He tore these off, andclutched at what lay beneath.
"Come here, partner," he shouted; "what do you say to this, eh?"
Gray slowly rose and came towards him. How he had anticipated themoment when this money should lie before him! There it was, and helooked at it with a shudder.
Lumley emptied the contents of the box on the floor before him, andbegan eagerly to count over the notes and gold.
"A prime catch, eh?" he remarked, as he caught up a handful ofsovereigns and let them fall back in a glittering heap. "We'll be ableto cut a dash on this, partner. Look at this nugget! And the flimsyis all safe-- Tom took care of that; there ain't one of the numbersknown." And he held up the banknotes to Gray with a grin. "Betterthan the reward after all, my boy, even the half of it, though not_quite_ so good as the whole lot. You thought you were going to grabit all, didn't you? You were a green un to think so. Why, I'vefollowed you up from the moment I heard of Tom's death. I knew he'dleave some paper or other to tell where 'twas. Tom wasn't greedy, nothe." He went on with the examination of the treasure while he spoke;counting the gold and notes, and putting the nuggets into a heap apart.Presently he looked up with his cunning smile at Gray's dark face.
"You don't ask me, partner, how I came to hit on the hearth-stone."
"How was it?" said Gray indifferently. The gold might have beenwithered leaves, the notes blank pieces of paper for all the interesthe could feel in them.
"'Twas a good job for you I followed you," returned Lumley cheerfully."You might have prodded round till doomsday. I knew what Tom meant by'_hole in Big Gum_,' d'you see. That big log there with the window wasfrom the biggest gum of the whole lot we cut down. And the window wasthe hole. Ain't it plain as daylight now, eh?"
"Plain enough."
It was getting dusk outside, and Lumley got up and went to the door ofthe hut.
"We'd best be starting, partner," he said over his shoulder. "There'snothing out against me that I know of, but I'd rather not be seen bydaylight with you just at present, as you'll understand."
Gray hardly heard the words. He picked up his knapsack from the floor.
"I'll start this minute. I suppose you have got a horse?"
Lumley came back to the money before he answered. He began to divideit into two heaps.
"Yes, I've got a horse, partner, a pretty good one too. We scared youpretty well just now, eh? down along the track. My horse can climblike a 'possum, and I didn't want you to see me then."
The man's manner had changed again. It was smoother and more refined.It was as if he had slipped on a mask, and Gray's loathing of himincreased as he marked the sudden easy transition. His coarseness wasalmost better than this oily softness. It maddened Gray.
"You needn't divide that money," he broke out in a sudden impulse ofmiserable rage. "I'll have none of it. And if I leave this placealive I'll give you over to the police. You mark my words!"
Lumley looked up at him with a quiet smile.
"Two of us can play at that game, my fine fellow!" Then his mannerchanged quickly from softness to ferocity. "You young fool, you!Don't you know the police are after you? They may be outside this, foraught I know, this minute. Anyway, they're close upon your track."
Gray stepped fiercely towards him.
"You lie!" he gasped out.
"You'd better ride down to Ford's to-night and find out," returnedLumley in a sulky, indifferent tone; "you'll have a warm welcome!"
"It's false!" Gray almost shouted the words. "They have no reason."
Lumley looked up at him with a grin.
"That's a pretty statement for you to make, partner. Anyway, there's awarrant out against you. Not for this pretty stuff alone, mindyou--suspicion of _murder_!"
His crafty, cruel eyes fixed themselves on Gray's pallid twitching face.
"Murder of yo
ur mate, partner. 'Twas a pity you had to do it, for it'sa hanging matter; but he was an obstinate chap, I expect. Pious andall that."
"They believe I murdered Harding?" Gray gasped out.
"Don't take on, partner," returned Clay cheerfully; "murder will out,as they say. And the police haven't got you yet. You trust to me: Iknow a track that'll take us out safe enough. I daresay you feelqueer, though. It's unpleasant to be tracked by the police. I'm usedto it, but I don't like it. I expect you wouldn't have done it ifyou'd thought you'd have been found out; eh, partner?"
It overwhelmed Gray to find that he could be suspected of acold-blooded treacherous murder.
"You think--you dare to think--" he broke out, and then his voicefailed him.
Had he not, in very purpose and act, been the murderer of his mate?The words of angry defence faltered on his tongue. He stoodself-convicted, seeing for the first time all the horror of hisact--unable to say a word to clear himself of the charge Lumley broughtagainst him.
The Bushranger's Secret Page 7
