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 of New Zealand notes—such as those with which bush contractors pay their men.

Two mornings later the sharper suggested a stroll. Steelman went with him, with a face carefully made up to hear the worst.

After walking a hundred yards in a silence which might have been ominous —and was certainly pregnant—the sharper said:

“Well. . . I tried the water.”

“Yes!” said Steelman in a nervous tone. “And how did you find it?”

“Just as warm as I thought. Warm for a big splash.”

“How? Did you lose the ten quid?”

“Lose it! What did you take me for? I put ten to your ten as I told you I would. I landed £50——”

“Fifty pounds for twenty?”

“That’s the tune of it—and not much of a tune, either. My God! If I’d only had that thousand of mine by me, or even half of it, I’d have made a pile!”

“Fifty pounds for twenty!” cried Steelman excitedly. “Why, that’s grand! And to think we chaps have been grafting like niggers all our lives! By God, we’ll stand in with you for all we’ve got!”

“There’s my hand on it,” as they reached the hotel.

“If you come to my room I’ll give you the £25 now, if you like.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” exclaimed Steelman impulsively; “you mustn’t think I don’t——”

“That’s all right. Don’t you say any more about it. You’d best have the stuff to-night to show your mate.”