The Gold Hunter's Adventures Or, Life In Australia Volume 2 ( Of 2 ) by William H. Thomes (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📕

Defined The Original Color Of The Cloth. His Wig Was Black, And

Contrasted With His Saturnine Complexion, And As Long As He Held His

Tongue He Would Have Passed Muster As A Native Of Italy.

"Well," Inquired Mr. Brown, Surveying Our Disguise With Approval, "Is

Every Thing Ready?"

We Assured Him That, As Far As We Were Concerned, We Were, And Impatient

To Set Out Without Delay.

"Where Is Steel Spring?" Mr. Brown Asked, While Sipping His Punch, With

A Gratified Expression Upon His Face That Showed How Highly He Enjoyed

It.

"We Are To Meet Him At Dan's At One O'clock."

"Then We Had Better Be Moving," The Inspector Said, Emptying His Glass,

And Rising. "I Heard From One Of My Folks To-Night, And He Tells Me That

The Gathering Is Unusually Large At The 'Cricket,' And To Prevent

Mistakes, I Have Stationed A Small Force Of Trusty Men Within Sound Of A

Call In Case They Are Required."

We Left Rover In Charge Of The Store And The Sick Man, And Locked Up,

And Then Picked Our Way Towards Gravel Pit Hill, Where The "Cricket" Was

Located.

Mr. Brown Was In High Spirits, And Once Called Down The Wrath Of A

Guardian Of The Night Because Mr. B. Insisted Upon Showing Us The Extent

And Volume Of His Voice.

At Length We Gained "Gravel Pit Hill," And Had No Difficulty In Finding

The Celebrated "Cricket,"--A House That Made Some Pretensions To Size

And Boards, For It Was Two Stories High, With A Large Hall, Or Bar-Room,

On The First Floor, And Three Or Four Smaller Rooms Leading From It. The

Small Rooms Were For The _Elite_ Of The Bushranging Profession, And When

There Was Too Great A Cry For A Notorious Robber, He Was Accommodated

With Private Quarters Where He Could Enjoy His _Lush_ Undisturbed By

The Thoughts Of Police Officers. The "Cricket" Appeared To Be Unusually

Light And Brilliant, For The Sharp Squeaking Of A Violin Was Heard, And

The Trilling Of A Clarinet Blended With The Catgut In Most Discordant

Notes.

"Now, Gentlemen," The Inspector Said, Stopping Short, And Laying His

Hands Upon Our Arms, "We Have Got To Manage This Matter With Some Skill,

Or We Shall Hardly Escape Without A Blow From A Knife, Or A Pistol Shot,

Two Very Desirable Things If We Use The Weapons With Which They Are

Inflicted, But Bad If In Other Hands. Let Me Caution You To Study Each

Word That You Utter, And To Maintain Perfect Control Over Your Muscles.

Now, Then, Are You Ready?"

We Answered In The Affirmative, And Once More Strode On Until We Reached

The Stout Door That Separated The "Cricketers" From The Outer World. It

Was Closed As We Expected, For Steel Spring Had Informed Us That After A

Certain Hour At Night All Ingress Had To Be Made By Giving A Password,

And He Had Kindly Provided Us With The Magic Expression To Be Used.

Mr. Brown Dealt A Stout Blow Upon The Door, And While We Listened For A

Response The Music Ceased, And All Was Quiet As A Churchyard Within The

House. We Could Hear Whispering Near The Door As Though Debating Our

Business, And Who We Were.

Again Did The Inspector Deal The Door Heavy Blows, And While He Rested A

Hoarse Voice Asked,--

"What's Wanted Out There?"

"We Wish To Come In--Open The Door, And Don't Keep Us Away From, The

Lush All Night," Responded The Inspector.

"But Who Are You?" Queried Our Interrogator.

"We Is Fakey Kens And Quiddling Coves," Mr. Brown Answered, Adopting The

Flash Language, Most In Vogue Among Thieves At Ballarat.

"If You Is Fakey Coves You Should Know The _Dig_," Was The Response,

Meaning That We Should Know The Password.

"Bush And Bush," Cried Mr. Brown, Promptly, Being The Words Which Steel

Spring Had Informed Us Would Carry Us Into The House Without Delay.

"Why Didn't You Go For To Say So In The Fust Place," Growled The

Doorkeeper; And We Heard A Heavy Bar Removed, And A Bolt Drawn, And Then

The Door Was Opened Just Wide Enough For Us To Squeeze In One By One,

And After We Stood In The Large Room, Where Twenty Or Thirty Persons

Were Congregated, It Was Instantly Shut, And Again Secured, And Our

Retreat Was Cut Off Had We Been Disposed To Have Left The Choice Company

Before Us In A Summary Manner.

I Had Time To Glance Around The Apartment And Take A Brief Survey Of The

Assembly Before The Ruffian Who Guarded The Door Had Bolted It, And I

Must Confess That My Impression Was Not Very Favorable. As I Said

Before, There Were Between Twenty And Thirty Persons In The Room, All

With Such Villanous-Looking Countenances That A Jury Would Have Hanged

Them Without A Word Of Evidence In Regard To Their Guilt. The Very

_Creme De La Creme_ Of Scoundrelism Was Before Us, Plotting A Recruiting

From Deeds Of Crime, And Ready To Cut A Man's Throat For A Pound.

The Apartment Was Filled With Smoke, For Each Man Had A Clay Pipe In His

Mouth, And Was Puffing Away In A State Of Great Enjoyment. Along The

Walls Of The Room Were Common Pine Tables, With Rude Benches And But A

Few Rough Chairs. The Tables Were Nailed To The Floor, Or Confined By

Iron Staples; And I Afterwards Learned That The Plan Was Adopted By The

Proprietor Of The House To Save His Property, As Sometimes His Guests

Got Angry, And Were In The Habit Of Breaking Chairs Over The Heads Of

Adversaries--A Custom Which Had Been Discontinued, Owing To The

Shrewdness Of Dan In Looking After Number One. Of Course, The Knife And

Pistol Were The Next Resort; But That Was A Matter Of The Most Supreme

Indifference To Dan, Who Didn't Care How Many Were Killed Or Wounded As

Long As They Didn't Injure Him Or What Belonged To Him.

Every Man Was Drinking, Or Had A Pot Of Ale Or A Glass Of Rum Before

Him; And In One Corner Of The Apartment Were Half A Dozen Persons

Asleep, Or Else Dead Drunk, And Even Beside Them Were Glasses Or Pewter

Cups.

At The Farthest End Of The Room From The Street Was A Small Bar, Behind

Which Dan, With Coat Off And Shirt Sleeves Rolled Up, Was The Presiding

Genius, And To Show His Aristocracy Was Smoking A Cigar.

He Scanned Us With His Sharp Black Eyes When We Entered, As Though

Wondering Who We Were; But Apparently Satisfied That We Were "Kenkly

Coves," Or First-Class Thieves, He Turned His Attention To More

Congenial Matters, And Refreshed His Inner Man With A Stiff Glass Of

Rum, Diluted With But A Slight Mixture Of Water.

The Musicians, Who Had Stopped Playing Upon Our Knocking, Now Made

Feeble Signs Of Renewing Their Duties; But Still The Guests Assembled

Did Not Remove Their Eyes From Us, And We Could See A Number Of Them

Whisper To Each Other As Though Making Inquiries As To Whom We Were.

I Glanced Around The Room In Hope Of Seeing Steel Spring, But That

Worthy Was Invisible; And I Was Just About To Utter An Anathema On His

Head When A Door Leading To The Hall, Or Bar-Room, Opened, And That

Individual Made His Appearance. He Stopped For A Moment To Exchange A

Few Words With Dan, And We Could See That He Was Requesting The Favor Of

A Drink, And That He Was Promptly Served, A Sure Sign That His Credit

Was Good, Or That He Had Not Run Out Of Money.

"Come, Ain't You Covies Agoing To Move Along And Get Some Lush, Or Is

You Goin' To Stand Here All Night, And Hanged To You?" Cried The

Doorkeeper, Who Had Secured The Door, And Wanted To Turn His Attention

To Any Amusement That Might Be Going On, Including That Of Being Asked

To Drink By Any Good-Natured Bushranger Present.

"Don't You Be In A Hurry, You Old Grampus," Cried Mr. Brown, With A

Swagger And An Indifferent Look, As Though He Had Been Used To Just Such

Society As Was Present. "We Are Strangers Here, But We Have Lived In The

Bush For A Few Years, And Knows A 'Trap' From An Innocent."

To Even Claim The Title Of A Bushranger Was Sufficient To Secure Respect

From The Common Thieves Who Congregated Around Ballarat, As There Was So

Much Danger Connected With The Pursuit Of A Robber Who Was Obliged To

Live In The Bush, And Rarely Show His Face, Except To Attack A Train,

That Petty Knaves Were Always Awed When One Of The Fierce Rovers Of The

Prairies Made His Appearance And Condescended To Speak. The Doorkeeper's

Manners Underwent An Instantaneous Change, And From The Fierce Bully He

Softened To The Fawning Panderer.

"I Axes Yer Pardon, Gents, 'Cos I Didn't Know Ye, And 'Sposed You Was

Sneaks From Melbourne. Let Me Show You To A Table, And Supply You With

Lush, And (Here The Fellow's Voice Subsided To A Whisper) I Knows The

Bottles That Holds The Best Rum."

"You're The Fellow For Us," Cried The Inspector, Slapping Him On His

Back With Pretended Frankness. "Bring On The Lush, And Hang The Expense.

We're In For A Time, And A Jolly One At That."

Our Cicerone Led Us Across The Room, And While We Were Walking Every Eye

Was Upon Us, And The Least Hesitancy Or Timidity Would Have Betrayed And

Brought The Whole Pack Upon Us Before We Were Ready To Receive Them.

Therefore, Without Swaggering, Or Pretending To Be Very Independent, We

Reached Our Allotted Table, And Called For Three Bottles Of Ale And

Three Pipes.

Just Then Dan Called Steel Spring's Attention, And We Could Hear Him

Inquire In A Whisper If He Knew Us. The Long-Legged Scamp Turned

Deliberately Around, Pretended To Be Surprised, Hastily Swallowed His

Rum, And Then Rushed Towards Us.

"Vel, If This Isn't A Surprise May I Never Speak Again, Or Make An

Honest Living Vhile In The Bush. To Think That Three Of My Old Pals

Should Turn Up Jist As I Vanted 'Um, Is A Vonderful Thing And No

Mistake. If Ye Axes Me Vat I'll Drink, I Shall Say Rum."

We All Pretended To Be Pleased To See The Follow, And Gave Him Such A

Rough Welcome As We Deemed His Companions Would Be Likely To Bestow, And

Then, To His Extreme Gratification, Ordered The Rum That He Was So Eager

To Taste.

"It's All Right," We Could Hear The Ruffians, By Whom We Were

Surrounded, Say. "Steel Spring Knows 'Um, And That's 'Nough;" And Then

Each Man Applied Himself With Renewed Energy To Drinking And Smoking,

And Laying Plans