gold.'

'Send me below, then, an' by Heaven I'll spot the true thieves if they're
not more cunning than the devil himself. You think Frank guilty, so do
most people; it's what we ought to expect, I s'pose.' Harry's hands were
clenched hard--it was a sore subject. 'We don't, Mr. Holden; we believe
his story, every word of it. Give me half a chance to prove it. You were
our father's mate; stand by us now. Put me on with the same shift as
Frank worked with.'

'Done!' said the manager, starting up. 'Come on at four. Go trucking;
it'll give you a better chance of moving round; and good luck, my boy!
But take a hint that's well meant: if the real thief is down there, see
he plays no tricks on you.'

'I've thought of that--trust me.'

Harry Hardy's appearance below with the afternoon shift at the Stream
occasioned a good deal of talk amongst the miners; but he heard none of
it. Shine was in the searching-shed when he came up at midnight, on his
knees amongst the men's discarded clothes, pawing them over with his
claw-like fingers.

The searcher rarely spoke to the men, never looked at them, and performed
his duties as if unconscious of their presence. Custom had made him
exceedingly cautious, for it was the delight of the men to play tricks
upon him, usually of an exceedingly painful nature. The searcher is no
man's friend. When putting on his dry clothes, Harry heard Joe Rogers,
the foreman, saying: