don't you speak?'

'Because there's no bargain to be made between you and me,' replied
Drake. 'If you tell me where the gold dust's hid, it will be given back
to the people it belonged to, or rather to those of them you left
alive. You can do some good that way by telling me, but you won't save
your life.'

Steps were heard to approach the hut; there was a rap on the door.

'Well?' asked Drake.

Gorley raised himself from the floor.

'I am not making you rich and letting you kill me too,' he said; and
then, 'Who cares? I'm ready.'

Drake opened the door and stepped out. Gorley swaggered after him. He
stood for a moment on the threshold. Here and there a wisp of fog ringed
a tree-trunk or smoked upon the ground. But for the rest, the clearing,
littered with the charred debris of a native village, lay bare and
desolate in a cold morning light.

'It looks a bit untidy,' said Gorley, with a laugh. Two of the troopers
approached and laid their hands upon his shoulders. At first he made a
movement to shake them off. Then he checked the impulse and stood
quietly while they pinioned him. After they had finished he spat on the
ground, cast a glance at the square and the rope dangling from a branch
above it, and walked easily towards it. The square opened to receive him
and closed up again.