The Honor of the Road
"Not you, sir!" cried Cameron.
"Good God!" exclaimed the squatter.
"The discoverer was not divine, and indeed no human being but myself," the bent man averred, turning with mischievous humor from one to the other of his astonished hearers. "Yes, there was more gold than I would have credited a sane Scotchman with carrying through the wilds; but the bulk was in small notes, and the whole has been buried in the scrub close to the scene of the murder, doubtless to avoid at once the detection and the division of such unusual spoil."
"You are thinking of his mate?"
It was Cameron who had asked the question, but Mr. Hardcastle followed immediately with another.
"Did you remove the spoil?"
"My dear Mr. Hardcastle! How you must lack the detective instinct! Of course, I left everything as nearly as possible as I found it; the man camps on the spot, or very near it; he lights no fires and is careful to leave no marks, but I am more or less convinced of it. And that is where I shall take him to-night, or, rather, early to-morrow morning."
"I wish you could make it to-night," said Hardcastle, with a yawn that put a period to a pause of some duration.
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