Dick nodded again; Jacker went peacefully to his work and Peterson
crawled back to his seat. Confidence was restored.

CHAPTER X.

HARRY HARDY'S first few shifts below only served to convince him of the
difficulties of the task he had set himself. The Silver Stream was a big
alluvial mine working two levels, and there were close upon a hundred
hands below on each shift. All these he could not watch; but he was
working in the same drive and with the set of men Frank had worked with,
and was always alert for hint or sign that would give him a clue, whilst
at the same time being careful not to set the thieves on their guard. He
must watch closely without letting it be seen that he was watching at
all. Keen as he was in the pursuit of his object, he found, with some
self-resentment, that his mind frequently reverted to another subject
altogether; and that subject was Miss Christina Shine. When he caught
himself absorbed in a reverie in which Miss Chris was the centre of
interest, he metaphorically took himself by the neck and shook himself
up, and during the next few minutes reviewed with quite extravagant
ferocity the excellent reasons he had for hating Chris for her father's
sake. It was a melancholy pleasure to him to see the searcher pawing his
clothes about, digging into his pockets and his billy, and examining his
boots. His old instinct would have prompted him to attack Ephraim on the
floor of the shed, but now, with lamentable unreason and injustice, he
nursed the insult as good and sufficient cause for contemning the
daughter. He had seen Chris once since Sunday, and then only from the
recesses of a clump of scrub into which he had retreated on seeing her
approach; but he felt, without admitting the knowledge even to himself,
that he would need all the excuses he could find, just or unjust,