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Title: The Second String

Author: Nat Gould

Release Date: April 6, 2011 [EBook #35782]

Language: English

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                          THE SECOND STRING

                             BY NAT GOULD

AUTHOR OF "THE DOUBLE EVENT," "A RACECOURSE TRAGEDY," "THE GOLD WHIP,"
ETC., ETC.


    LONDON
    R. A. EVERETT & CO., LTD.
    42 ESSEX STREET, STRAND, W.C.

    [_All Rights Reserved._]




CONTENTS


I.--THE FAILURE

II.--JACK'S RESOLVE

III.--A SCHOOL CHUM

IV.--AN OLD TIME SKIPPER

V.--TOPSY TURVY

VI.--TAPPING

VII.--WEATHERING THE STORM

VIII.--BARRY TUXFORD

IX.--IN SHARK'S BAY

X.--THE TWO BLACK DIVERS

XI.--TURNING TURTLE AND AFTER

XII.--JACOB'S YARN

XIII.--THE DIVERS AT WORK

XIV.--THE BLACK PEARL

XV.--A CLEVER THIEF

XVI.--JACK DISCOVERS HIS LOSS

XVII.--THE PEARL DEALER

XVIII.--ON HORSEBACK AGAIN

XIX.--A STAB IN THE DARK

XX.--THE TRAINER'S SUGGESTION

XXI.--BRICKY FINDS A JOB

XXII.--BLACK BOY'S OWNER

XXIII.--BARRY WAXES ELOQUENT

XXIV.--BADLY RIDDEN

XXV.--SOMETHING ABOUT WINIFRED

XXVI.--A PUZZLE

XXVII.--THE SECOND STRING

XXVIII.--THE NEW CLAIMS

XXIX.--BOUND FOR HOME

XXX.--REALISATION




THE SECOND STRING




CHAPTER FIRST

_THE FAILURE_


"There goes the failure of the family, yet I like him, there's real grit
in him if it was brought out."

The speaker was Sir Lester Dyke, and the remark was made to his
daughter, Winifred.

"The failure" did not seem unhappy, he walked across the field with a
free and easy stride, whistling softly to himself, enjoying the beauties
of nature, taking in everything at a glance, drinking deep of the many
good things that mother earth provided for the entertainment of mankind.
To look at him seemed to give a great denial to Sir Lester's remark.
Failure was not written on his face, he was apparently an active, well
bred, strong, able bodied young man, and yet Jack Redland was a failure,
for he had done nothing to advance himself in life, and had tried his
hand at many things without success. His brothers had done well in life,
his two sisters had married rich men, and were more or less happy,
according to the lot of such people. His father left him exactly two
thousand pounds and he spent it in a year. How he had lived since that
time no one knew, but he was always well dressed and never seemed in
want of money.

As all the Redlands had done well in life, "the failure" stood out more
conspicuously. Had his many friends been questioned they would have
endorsed Sir Lester's remarks concerning him.

His family concern this story in no wise, it is with him we have to
deal. It suffices to say that his father was an old friend of Sir Lester
Dyke's, who had a small estate in Sussex and a house at Brighton.

Jack Redland was a frequent visitor at The Downs, where he was always
made welcome, despite his failures. Perhaps it was Winifred's
championship of him had much to do with her father's partiality. She was
his only child and he adored her. Sir Lester had just given Jack a few
words of advice, administered in somewhat strong doses, in the hope that
it would act as a tonic and brace him up to contemplate some decisive
line of action that would obliterate past failures. The recipient of the
tonic did not seem to be troubled by it. During the five-and-twenty
years of his life he had accepted a vast amount of advice, which could
not have been of the right sort, as it failed to produce any effect.
Advice is cheap, much cheaper than practical assistance, and, therefore,
easier to part with. Some people consider themselves born advisers, they
little know what bores they are. Jack was a difficult subject to bore,
he was a patient listener, because he never showed in any way that his
thoughts were elsewhere as his adviser rambled on in dreary discourse.
Maiden ladies of a certain age with grievances, found him sympathetic;
they thought it wonderful he possessed such a knowledge of the sex. Men
with hobbies ran them hard at Jack's expense, but he did not mind it in
the least. His temper was even, his outlook on life full of hope, and a
blind belief in his lucky star, which advanced near to the borders of
fatalism. He never doubted that he had been sent into the world to serve
some useful purpose, but what it was he had been unable, up to now, to
discover.

He did not consider himself a failure in the same light as others
regarded him. Because he had tried several things and succeeded in none
was not his fault, it was rather his misfortune, because he had not come
across the right thing; when he did he felt sure of succeeding.

His education was of the ordinary kind. He went to a good private
boarding school and when he left did not go to college, had he done so
he would have been no better off. He played cricket well, was, in fact,
much in request in the county team, he rode well, shot splendidly,
played tennis, croquet, golf, or any other game that happened to be
suggested, and Sir Lester said no fault could be found with anything he
did in the way of sport. If he succeeded in these things why not in
business? that was the question that as yet remained unanswered. He had
plenty of energy, rode hard in the hunting field, was a qualified
gentleman jockey, and had won many races. This was one source of income
which he did not despise. All this was very well in its way, but for a
young man without means it did not afford a very good prospect in life.

The Downs was within easy distance of Brighton, and Jack Redland often
walked from the famous seaside resort to Sir Lester's and back. He did
so because he liked walking, for he was never short of the choice of a
mount, any of his Brighton friends were only too willing to oblige him
when they found he improved the manners of their horses.

It was a beautiful day, towards the end of May, and the country was
resplendent in living green. Myriads of primroses clustered under the
trees, and peeped out from nooks and corners in the banks. The birds
sang joyously, heralding the coming of June, already teaching their
young how to fly, in haste to be rid of them and rear more.

As he reached the bend round by the plantation, he turned and waved his
hat to Sir Lester and Winifred, the former shook his stick at him, which
caused him to smile, the latter kissed her hand to him, which made him
look serious.

He was very fond of Winifred, and he admired her father, whose
friendship he greatly valued. He had known Winifred since she was a
little girl, now she was eighteen, and fast developing into a lovely
woman. Once he did not see her for a year or more, that was when she was
at school, in France, and when he met her he wondered at the change in
her. It was then he learned she was no longer a child and could not be
teased and have her hair pulled with impunity. She laughed at him when
he spoke to her in such a different tone, and her bantering soon put him
at his ease.

Out of sight of the house he sat down on a bank and idly pulled a
buttonhole of primroses. His thoughts were with Sir Lester and Winifred,
and he commenced to wonder whether the baronet was right when he told
him it was entirely his own fault he did not get on in the world, and
that it was high time he turned his mind and his hands to something
useful. His numerous accomplishments had, so far, been of very little
use to him. One of his sisters occasionally gave him a helping hand or
he would have been in a very bad way indeed. At first he declined to
accept money from her, but she overcame his reluctance by pointing out
that she had no children, and had more money than she cared to spend
upon herself.

"If you assure me it comes out of your private purse I will take it as a
loan," he said, "but I will not accept a copper from Harry, he's a
prig."

"He is my husband," she replied, quietly, "and you must not call him
names. He is very good to me, very liberal, and I have nothing to
grumble about. Please take the money, Jack, and when you are short again
do not be afraid to ask for more; I know you will repay it some day, if
ever I require it."

This was, however, a most unsatisfactory way of living, and he had no
desire to trespass upon her bounty. What was he to do? The answer was
difficult. He would be of no use in an office. As the manager of an
estate he might find it a congenial employment, but he doubted his
ability to succeed.

"Something is sure to turn up," he muttered, "but the right thing is a
deuced long time in coming my way."

Hearing footsteps in the lane he looked up and saw a gypsy woman, with a
basket on her arm, filled with bunches of primroses. She was young, and
not ill looking. Many of her tribe wandered about the Sussex lanes, and
he merely regarded her with ordinary interest. She saw him through the
hedge, and stopped.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Money, my child is ill," she said.

"Where is your husband?"

"I do not know, I do not care. He has left me, but I have the child. He
is in Brighton, he will die if I cannot get money, I must have it."

"I am sorry for you," he said. "Money is scarce with me, but I can let
you have a few shillings."

"God bless you, kind gentleman."

It occurred to him her story might be untrue, and he looked at her
suspiciously. She saw his glance, and with the quickness of her race
knew why he hesitated.

"I have told you the truth, my child is very ill, he is all I have in
the world."

He pushed his way through the hedge, and stood before her. She looked
into his face with sad, black eyes, in which there was no boldness.

"Here is five shillings for you, I am as badly off as yourself for
money."

She curtseyed as she accepted it, and said:

"You do not look like a poor man."

"I am; I am a failure," he said, smiling.

She shook her head.

"Your turn will come. May I look at your hand?"

He laughed again as he said:

"I have no faith in fortune telling."

"I do not wish to tell your fortune, I can read your hand if you will
let me."

He held out his hand, and for some minutes she regarded it silently.
They made a picturesque group under the budding trees, with the birds
peeping down and twittering in surprise, and the primroses glistening
all around.

"There are riches in store for you, there are dangers to be met with in
a far off land. You will live long but there are years of strife before
you. It is a good hand, the lines are true, it is not the hand of a man
who will fail when the time comes."

He was interested, although he did not believe her story.

"Then there is no luck in store for me in England?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"None until you return," she replied.

"And where must I go? To what land must I journey to gain these riches?"

"That I cannot tell, you must trust to fate."

"I am not likely to leave England."

"You will, and before long."

"You speak positively."

"I am sure of what I say."

"You are going to Brighton, it is a long walk. Go to Hassocks, that will
be nearer; here is another half-crown, you can take the train from
there."

He did not wait for her thanks, but struck out across country, he knew
his way well.

The five or six miles to Brighton were nothing to him, and he arrived
there in time for dinner.

He had modest apartments in the Old Steyne overlooking the gardens, in a
very quiet house where there were no other lodgers, and his modest
requirements were easily met.

He preferred to live at Brighton, probably because it was within easy
distance of Sir Lester Dyke's residence, and he had many opportunities
of seeing Winifred. He walked to Hove in the evening, and sat down in a
quiet spot overlooking the sea. His meeting with the gypsy woman
impressed him more than he imagined. It was curious she should be coming
down the lane as he rested there, he did not remember having met any
gypsies so near The Downs before. Sir Lester had a decided objection to
them, called them poachers, and worse names, and would have none of them
on his land, or in the lanes if he could help it. The woman seemed
superior to the majority of her class, and he believed her story about
the child.

The sound of the sea, the swish of the incoming tide influenced him and
he wondered if the woman's words would come true and that he might
possibly find riches in a foreign land. He cared very little for money
for himself, but there were possibilities attaching to the possession of
it that he cared for very much indeed. Again he saw Sir Lester shaking
his stick, and Winifred kissing her hand. The stick was to urge him on,
the kiss to call him back.

England; what ties were there to hold him here? He had never
contemplated the prospect of leaving his homeland until the gypsy woman
had spoken; he saw in her words the hand of fate, in which he placed his
trust.

The sea breeze fanned his face, the music of the waves fascinated him as
they had never done before, they called to him and he felt inclined to
place faith in their summons. The sun sank, the air grew chilly, but
still he sat on watching the lights of the fishing smacks as they
appeared, one by one, out at sea.

Surely it was time for him to bestir himself, do something to earn his
living, instead of idling along in pleasurable ease, if not affluence.

He had read of men who had gone out to far distant countries and come
back rich. They braved dangers and privations, why should not he, had he
less courage? He thought not.

He walked along the parade, still wondering if the gypsy's words would
come true. That depended upon himself, he could at any rate give them a
chance by going abroad.

By the time he reached his lodgings he had made up his mind to try his
luck elsewhere, but where?

He meant to consult Sir Lester Dyke and hear what he had to say, his
advice would at any rate be worth listening to. Then there was Winifred,
how would she take it, would it grieve her much to lose her old
playmate?

He felt the wrench on his side would be severe. The girl was more to him
than he imagined, the mere thought of leaving her had roused other
sentiments; during his absence she might marry, and on his return home
find her the mother of children. He had no right to expect anything
else, not even to ask her to wait for him, because he had no prospects
in life, no home to offer her, was not even certain of making one. Sir
Lester liked him, but would resent, and properly so, any approach to his
daughter on such a subject.

If he went abroad he must risk everything, even the chance of finding
Winifred still at home with her father on his return. Of one thing he
was certain, if he left England he would not come back a failure.




CHAPTER SECOND

_JACK'S RESOLVE_


"I think you were rather severe on Jack," said Winifred as "the failure"
disappeared from view. "I am sure he has tried his best to find
something to do, he told me so."

"And you implicitly believe all the young rascal tells you," replied her
father smiling.

"He is truthful, at any rate, that is in his favour."

"I agree with you; I do not think Jack Redland would tell a
lie--unless----"

She looked at him archly.

"Unless it was to shield a woman."

"Ah!" she exclaimed, "and under such circumstances it would be
justifiable."

"Possibly; it depends on the circumstances. I do not think I was too
severe upon him, Win; he requires a spur to drive him along. I wish to
goodness he would do something."

"So do I."

"Are you very fond of him, little girl?"

She answered frankly that she was very fond of him indeed, and her
father was glad to hear her speak in this strain, it showed him she had
not lost her heart to him. He was anything but rich, but had his
daughter's happiness been at stake he would not have hesitated in
granting her desire.

The Downs was a comfortable old fashioned place, situated in one of the
most picturesque parts of Sussex. The property was not large, but being
so near to fashionable Brighton, the land was valuable, and more than
one tempting offer had been made to Sir Lester to part with it for
building purposes. The mere thought of The Downs estate being cut up by
jerry builders irritated him. His affairs would be in a very bad way
when he parted with the place for such a purpose. His house at Hove had
turned out a profitable investment; he could obtain double what he gave
for it some years ago, and if it came to parting with property that must
go first.

Sir Lester Dyke had been hampered from the commencement. His father had
spent every shilling he could manage to raise, and left his son a
multitude of debts and his affairs in chaos.

"Make a clean sweep of the lot," the lawyer had said, but Sir Lester,
who was young and sanguine, laughed the suggestion to scorn, and clung
to his property with grim determination. Luckily, he married a wife who
had a moderate fortune which she willingly handed over to him to assist
him in freeing the estate. Unfortunately, she died when his affairs were
commencing to assume something like order. This was a great blow to him,
but he bore it bravely and Winifred became the idol of his life.

He was fond of racing; his father, to his sorrow, had been before him,
but in a different way. His father gambled heavily; Sir Lester loved the
sport alone, and seldom put much money on his horses. His string was
trained at Lewes, on the famous Downs, and Jack Redland had ridden more
than one winner in the familiar black jacket with orange sleeves.

His love of country life was a sufficient inducement for him to remain
at The Downs for the greater part of the year, and Winifred was his
constant companion in his rides and walks. She rode well, and like her
father, preferred the Sussex hills and downs to the fascinations of
London life.

Sir Lester's favourite meetings were Brighton and Lewes, where he was
well known, and where the victories of his horses were always received
with much enthusiasm.

Winifred was popular in the neighbourhood, and young as she was, proved
a charming hostess, as soon as she left school. Her figure on horseback
was familiar at Brighton, and on the downs at Lewes, where she often
went with her father to see the horses at work.

Caleb Kenley, the trainer, was devoted to Sir Lester, and as for
Winifred, he could not do enough to please her whenever she visited him
at Newhaven Lodge. Although Sir Lester could not afford to pay him a
large salary, Caleb Kenley was contented, and a dozen horses were quite
as many as he cared to handle.

"It's all very well to have forty or fifty horses in your stables," he
said, "but no man can keep his eye on the lot, and I like to know what
all mine are doing. Sir Lester's a gentleman, and it is a pleasure to
train for a man of his stamp. He never grumbles when he loses, and when
he wins it's a treat to see the smile on his face. I'll stick to him as
long as he sticks to me, and the mere good luck he has the better I
shall be pleased."

Jack Redland was also in the trainer's good books. He knew Jack was
regarded as a failure, but in his opinion no man who could ride as he
did came under that category. When Jack won the Southdown Open Welter
Handicap on Topsy Turvy, Caleb declared no professional jockey could
have done as much.

"Davis rode him at Brighton," said the trainer, "and he ran a perfect
brute. With Mr. Redland up he behaved himself; he knew there was a rider
on his back. Failure is he! Bosh! he's only to take to the profession to
make a fortune."

Eager to impart his newly formed resolution to Sir Lester, Jack Redland
went to The Downs the following day.

"Winifred says I was rather hard on you yesterday," said Sir Lester,
"but as you have come again to-day I suppose you consider my remarks
were quite in order and to the point."

"They generally are," said Jack laughing.

"Dad says what he means as a rule," said Winifred smiling.

"I had an adventure after I left you last night," he said. "It actually
made me think."

"You don't say so!" exclaimed Sir Lester.

"Fact, I assure you. It was a mild sort of adventure, but it seems
likely to have serious consequences."

Winifred was interested, and eager to hear the news. Jack explained how
he met the gypsy woman, and what she said to him.

"I walked down to Hove later on and sat listening to the waves. The
sound seemed to affect me curiously, and I felt there might be some
truth in the woman's tale. I have done no good in England, perhaps in a
new country my luck may change, and I may find an occupation suited to
my tastes and abilities. I came over to-day to ask your advice, Sir
Lester. Do you think I ought to try my fortune abroad?"

Sir Lester glanced at his daughter. She was silent, and there was a
troubled look in her face. "She does not care to lose her old playmate,"
he thought.

"They say the man who fails at home will fail anywhere," he replied.

Jack looked disappointed, but replied--

"I do not think that is correct. In a new country one naturally leads a
new life, and it need not necessarily be a failure. What do you think,
Winifred?"

"I do not think you have been a failure here. True, you have not yet
succeeded in settling down to some useful occupation, but the time will
come when that will happen. Do you feel inclined to go away, to leave
England?"

"Something tells me it will be for the best," he replied.

"Where do you intend going to?" asked Sir Lester.

"That is what I want your advice about."

"I am afraid I can help you very little. I know several young fellows
who have gone out to different parts of Australia, and who have done
remarkably well there; but it is a long way off."

"I do not mind where it is, or how far so long as I succeed. I made up
my mind last night that wherever I went I would not come back a
failure."

"That's right, Jack; I admire your pluck. If you go out with that
determination, depend upon it, you will succeed."

"When do you think of leaving?" asked Winifred in a low voice.

"This year; the sooner the better," he replied.

Sir Lester wondered where the funds would come from, he would help him
if necessary; but he could not do very much.

They discussed the matter for some time, when Sir Lester left them to
attend to business matters.

"Why have you come to such a sudden decision?" Winifred asked. "You
ought not to take such a step without due consideration."

"The gypsy woman put it into my head; she was very confident about my
succeeding."

Winifred laughed as she replied:

"I had no idea you were so superstitious. If that is your only reason I
advise you to remain at home."

"It is not the only reason; there is a far stronger inducement. I wish
to succeed, to make money. I have an object in view."

"Most people have an object in life."

"Mine is all important."

"Tell it me."

"No, I cannot at present. If I succeed, I will. Shall you miss me very
much, Winifred?"

"Indeed, I shall. We have been so much together, I think it unkind of
you to wish to leave me."

"I do not wish to leave you. I shall think a great deal about you when I
am away."

He wished he could tell her it was for her sake he desired to make
money, but he knew he ought not to bind her by a promise in any way,
even if she were willing to give it.

"I do not believe you will go; you are only joking."

"I was never more in earnest in my life. The only question is where
shall I go?"

"Somewhere where it will not be very difficult for you to get back. You
will not want to remain long away from old England."

"You think I shall soon be homesick?" he asked smiling.

"Indeed, I do; for I know how you love the old place. I believe it is
your love of the country that has prevented your success."

"You may be right, and in another land I may find an occupation that
will suit me, and at the same time bring me in money. I rather fancy a
roaming life for a few years."

"And do you think the roamers make fortunes?"

"In some cases."

"They are the exception. Steady, hard work we are always taught is the
best."

"But it is such a slow process. I want something more rapid," he
replied.

"What was the gypsy woman like?" she asked.

"Young, married, with a little child very ill. She was good looking; not
at all bold, and I think she believed what she told me."

"They are such deceptive people. How do you know the story about the
child was true?"

"I doubted her at first. She read my mind in an instant, and assured me
her story was correct. I do not think you would have doubted her had you
been there."

"Father has a great aversion to them."

"And it is not unreasonable, but they are not all bad, there must be
some decent people amongst them."

Winifred shrugged her shoulders. She did not like to think a mere gypsy
woman had influenced his life to such an extent by a silly trick of
palmistry.

"I shall hate all gypsies if you take her advice and go away," she said.

"She gave me no advice. She merely read the lines in my hand, and told
me what she saw there."

"And said you would succeed and be rewarded when you returned home?"

"That is so. I shall look forward to the reward," he said.

She glanced at his face, but he was looking across the garden, over the
fields beyond, and seemed lost in thought. She knew she would miss him
very much. Suppose he never returned; met with a dreadful death in some
inhospitable land. The mere thought of such a thing frightened her. She
put her hand on his arm, saying quickly, and with a little shudder--

"Do not go, Jack. Stay here; stay in England, where we all love you.
Don't go away."

"Where we all love you."

The words caused his heart to beat with happiness. She had used the word
collectively, but it included herself. Noticing her face and her
startled look, he said--

"Are you afraid I shall come to grief on my travels?"

"We hear of terrible things in the papers, such horrible things; and,
oh, Jack, we have been so much together, I could not bear to lose my old
playmate."

There were tears in her eyes, and he felt a desperate inclination to
kiss them away. He mastered his feelings and said--

"I am well able to take care of myself, and I will come back, I promise
you that. I am very glad you are so anxious about my welfare. I know I
have a firm friend in you, Winifred."

She was cross because she had shown too much feeling, and said
irritably--

"I am very silly. Of course, you can take care of yourself."

"You are never silly," he said. "I think I understand you, and it will
be my greatest regret on leaving here to leave you behind."

"You cannot very well take me with you," she answered smiling.

"I wish I could," he replied.

"Thanks, I prefer The Downs," she answered laughing.




CHAPTER THIRD

_A SCHOOL CHUM_


"Going abroad!" exclaimed Caleb Kenley, "what the deuce has put that
into your head?"

"I have been a dire failure here; perhaps elsewhere I shall turn out a
success."

"You have not been a failure; there are very few better riders in
England than yourself. Do not be offended at my question. Are you short
of money? Is that the reason?"

"The principal reason, and a very good one. I have always been short of
money."

"Why not ride as a professional jockey? You would find plenty of
employment and make a heap of money."

"I should not mind it at all for myself," he replied.

"And who else have you to consider?"

"Some one very dear to me; I cannot tell you who it is."

"I think I can guess," replied the trainer smiling. He had noticed how
Jack and Winifred were attached to each other.

"Please do not try, but if you know, keep it to yourself. I must make
money--do something--and there is no chance for me here."

"You will not be going for a month or two?" asked Caleb anxiously.

"No, not for two or three months."

"I am glad of that; you'll be able to ride Topsy Turvy again at Lewes,
and win on him, I hope."

"Is Sir Lester going to run him again in the Southdown Welter?"

"Yes, and of course, you must ride."

"I shall be delighted," replied Jack. "It will probably be my last mount
in the old country, for many a long year."

"What country are you bound for?" asked Caleb.

"I do not know at present."

"I have a brother in Sydney, in New South Wales. He has done well there;
he trains horses at Randwich, and I am sure if you met him, that is, if
you go to Australia, he would make you welcome. He might be able to give
you a wrinkle, put you in the way of making a living. He was always a
shrewd sharp fellow; I have not heard from him for some time, but I know
he is still there," said Caleb.

"If I decide upon Australia, I shall be only too pleased to meet him."

"His name is Joel, and if you decide to go there, I will write to him
about you."

"Thanks," replied Jack, "it is always nice to meet a friend in the midst
of strangers."

Jack Redland was often at Lewes, and rode gallops on the downs for the
trainer. After their conversation he had a spin on Topsy Turvy, who went
remarkably well, and he wondered if he was to win another race on him
before he left.

From Lewes he went up to London, and called at several shipping offices.
As he came out of the Orient Line offices and walked along Fenchurch
Street, he met an old schoolfellow named Harry Marton, whom he had lost
sight of for some years.

Harry Marton had been his particular chum at school, and when he left he
entered the stockbrokers' office of Marton and Shrew, his father being
the senior partner. He tried to persuade Jack to join him there, but he
declined, giving as his reason that he could not bear to be cooped up in
the city. After this their ways lay far apart, and they seldom came
across each other.

Jack saw his former comrade looked anything but prosperous; in fact,
like himself, he was evidently down on his luck. A hearty greeting
passed between them, and Harry said--

"You look as though you were doing well; I am sorry to say I have had a
very rough time of it. No doubt you heard of the firm's failure. The
poor old governor, it completely broke him up, and he died penniless,
and I firmly believe heartbroken. His partner swindled him right and
left, and to make matters worse, involved the firm in some very shady
transactions. I warned my father, but he had such confidence in Shrew
that he took no notice of what I said. It would have been better for him
had he done so. We might have saved something from the wreck when the
crash came."

"I am awfully sorry to hear it," replied Jack; "but you are mistaken as
to my state of prosperity. I assure you I have not a penny to bless
myself with, but I have some very good friends."

"Which I am sorry to say I have not," replied Harry. "Curious we should
meet here. I wonder if you have been on the same errand as myself?"

"I have been to the Orient office to see about a passage to Sydney."

"And I have been on a similar errand, but not to the same office. I have
had the offer of a passage out to Western Australia, to Fremantle. It is
not a crack steamer by any means, but I don't mind that. When I arrive
there I am certain of employment. You'll laugh when I tell you what it
is."

"How strange we should meet here," replied Jack.

"It is, very curious; it must be five or six years since I saw you
last."

"Quite that; it is a coincidence we ought not to overlook. How would it
do for us to go out together?"

"It would be splendid, but Fremantle is a long way from Sydney, I
believe."

"We cannot talk here; let us go into Carter's and have a chat," said
Harry.

They entered the quiet, modest dining-rooms, and secured a table in a
corner, away from the busy throng of city men, who were hurriedly
discussing their luncheons.

"It always amuses me to watch the city man in here," said Jack. "He has
not a minute to spare, and his food disappears with lightning-like
rapidity. I wonder if it does him any good, or if he has the faintest
idea of what he is eating."

"He cannot get much enjoyment out of it; I have tried it myself, and
know what it means."

"In your clerking days?" said Jack.

"Yes, we never had much time to spare; it's different now. There is too
much time and too little money."

Jack saw his friend was hungry, and ordered a substantial meal, which he
was glad he had cash enough to pay for.

"I have not had such a good feed for many a long day," said Harry Marton
with a sigh of regret that luncheon was at last over.

"It has been as bad as that?" said Jack.

"Yes, and occasionally I have had to starve for twelve hours. There is
no man I have more pity for than the clerk out of work. He has to look
respectable, or there is no chance of obtaining a situation; and when he
gets work, his pay is miserably small. I assure you, Jack, I have
tramped the city until I am sick of the whole thing. Nothing but
refusals, even from men I knew when in my father's office. I wonder why
parents are so anxious to bring up their children to respectable
starvation. I have seen scores of good fellows dining off a piece of
bread and a cup of tea, when a square meal would have been a Godsend to
them. I think it is false pride in many cases; there's too much of the
'gentlemanly occupation' in this world."

"You speak from experience, I know very little about it," replied Jack,
"but I can quite believe all you say. Tell me how you came to think of
going to the colonies."

"Four or five years ago a man who hailed from Western Australia walked
into our office. His name was Barry Tuxford, and he had been on the
goldfields in that colony and made what he called a pile. He was a
jovial, free and easy fellow, and he took a fancy to me. I showed him
round town, and we had some very good times indeed. He got our firm to
do some business for him, which panned out very well. When he returned
he told me before he sailed, that if ever I wished to go out to Western
Australia, I was to write to him to an address he gave me at Fremantle.
I promised to do so, but at that time I never thought there was any
chance of making use of him. I lost the address, but I remembered the
man, and that the town was Fremantle, so I risked it and wrote to him
there. A fortnight ago I received his reply. He wrote that it was lucky
Barry Tuxford was well known, or he would never have received the
letter. He was sorry to hear of my misfortunes, said he recollected our
jaunts around town, and proposed I should join him out there. 'We can do
with a few smart fellows like you,' he said, 'and if you have a mate you
can bring him with you; so much the better.' He then went on to say if I
decided to go to Fremantle, I must take his letter to the owners of the
steamer 'Golden Land,' and they would give me a passage out."

"Very good of him," said Jack, "You will probably mend your fortunes in
the company of such a man. What are you to do when you arrive there?"

"That is the funny part of the business. He wants me to go with his
pearling schooner, and some other boats, to a place I think he calls
Shark's Bay. I am to be a sort of supercargo and general hand, I
suppose, but what the deuce can he expect me to know about pearls and
pearl fishing?" said Harry Marton.

"A man like that will soon teach you your work, and it must be a jolly
interesting occupation, although, of course, there will be plenty of
roughing it," replied Jack. "I should not mind it in the least."

Harry Marton looked at his friend, noticed his spruce appearance, and
smiled.

"I don't think it would suit you, Jack. It's different with me, a case
of Hobson's choice. Where Shark's Bay is I have not the faintest idea."

"We'll hunt it up on the map."

"They haven't such a thing as an atlas at Carter's."

"There is no harm in asking," said Jack, and called the waiter.

"Hatlas, sir? No, sir, the gents as come here has no time to look at a
hatlas. The only part of the earth they care about lies within a radius
of a mile round Carter's. They may have seen a hatlas at school, sir,
but, bless you, it would be so much waste paper here."

They laughed, and Harry Marton said--

"I thought as much; anyway, it matters little where Shark's Bay is. I
have no doubt I shall eventually be landed, or stranded, there."

"I thought pearl fishing was about worked out in Australia," said Jack.

"It cannot be, or Barry Tuxford would not have a hand in it. He's far
too cute to tackle anything that is worked out, or likely to be, while
he is in it."

"He asked you to take a friend. Suppose I join you?"

"You!" exclaimed Harry, delighted. "You don't mean it, that would be too
much of a good thing. The 'Golden Land' is not the sort of steamer you
would care to travel in; there's none of the luxuries of a liner on her.
She's a cargo boat."

"We were at the same school and that was good enough for us. Why should
the same steamer not be equally suitable? I am looking forward to
roughing it, and may as well commence with the 'Golden Land.' At any
rate, it is worth risking in order to have your company."

"Of course, if you really mean it, I shall be very pleased, and the
passage can easily be fixed up."

"When does she sail?" asked Jack.

"At the end of the month if she has a full cargo, which she is almost
sure to have."

Jack thought of Lewes Races and his mount on Topsy Turvy. If the "Golden
Land" did not sail until then he would not miss the chance of winning
again.

"I am going to ride in a race at Lewes, one of Sir Lester Dyke's horses,
and you must come down and see it. There may be a chance of winning a
few pounds to help us on our way."

"I have seen your name in the paper," said Harry, "and often envied you.
I wish I could ride well. It will be very useful to you in the colonies.
I am afraid my funds will not allow of my travelling to Lewes."

"I'll see to that. If we go out to seek our fortunes together we will
have one common purse."

Harry Marton shook his head as he replied--

"That will not be fair, for I have very little to put into it."

"Our combined capital will not be burdensome, but such as it is we ought
to share it," replied Jack laughing.

"Well, I will leave it to you, only mind, I insist upon a correct
account being kept so that I can repay you if I overdraw."

"Agreed," said Jack, smiling. "We will be as accurate as a bank."

"If you have really made up your mind we may as well walk round to the
shipping office, and see whether we can go by the 'Golden Land.'"

The Captain of the "Golden Land" chanced to be in the office when they
entered, and the manager introduced them. Captain Seagrave was a bluff
hearty sailor of the old school, not given to oily words or polished
language, but an able skipper, and his employers knew it would be hard
to find a better man for their work.

He had made many voyages to Australia and other countries, and risked
his life in ships that were anything but seaworthy. He eyed the two
young men curiously, and a humorous smile spread over his face. He
hardly thought them the class of passenger for a rough and tumble trip
to Fremantle in the "Golden Land." At the same time, he saw a prospect,
in their company, of the monotony of the voyage being broken. In reply
to the manager he said--

"There's d--d little room on board for human beings; the accommodation
is limited, and the bunks are not equal to the best shake-downs in a
decent hotel. There's a tarnation lot of company in the ship sometimes,
which we get rid of in the best way we can. The dining saloon, gents, is
not on a par with an Atlantic liner's, but there's ample room for
feeding, providing the sea's calm. When she's in motion, the 'Golden
Land' lets you know it. If the firm's willing, I'll take you both, and I
daresay we shall pass the time pleasantly enough. We shall know each
other inside out before we reach Fremantle, I guess."




CHAPTER FOURTH

_AN OLD TIME SKIPPER_


Jack Redland decided to take a trip to Fremantle in the "Golden Land,"
and arranged for his passage before leaving the office; he was surprised
at the low amount charged.

The manager watched them as they left with Captain Seagrave, and
thought:

"You little know what you are in for. I would not make a trip to
Australia in the 'Golden Land' for a hundred pounds, how the deuce
Seagrave manages to get the old tub out there safely beats me. She'll go
down for certain before long. I hope it will not be this trip."

Captain Seagrave was in a jovial frame of mind, and he liked his
company. He admired pluck and knew his companions had plenty of it, or
they would not have ventured on such a trip without asking a few more
questions.

"What sort of a steamer is the 'Golden Land'?" asked Jack.

Job Seagrave smiled as he replied:

"She's not what you'd call a floating palace; every time I sail in her I
fancy it will be her last voyage, but she holds well together, and I
know how to handle her, although she has as many humours as a
thoroughbred."

Jack laughed as he said--

"I judge from that remark you are fond of racing."

"Yes, my lad, I am, and not above winning a trifle, or losing it."

"I ride in races sometimes."

The skipper turned an admiring glance on him.

"You don't look much like a jockey," he replied.

"I am a gentleman rider. If you care to go down to Lewes the week before
we sail you will see me win a race, I hope."

"Lewes!" exclaimed Seagrave, "that's funny, bless my soul, it's funny. I
was born there, in that glorious town I first saw daylight, or
gas-light."

"Well, this beats all," said Harry Marton, "it is a day of surprises."

"A fellow must be born somewhere," said the skipper, in an apologetic
tone, at which they both laughed.

"Have you been there lately?" asked Jack.

"Not this trip. I was there about twelve months ago, at the races, and
had a look round the old place, but very few people know me now. I
remember I backed a horse called Topsy Turvy, because he belonged to Sir
Lester Dyke. I knew his father, they are a grand old family."

"I rode the horse," said Jack, quietly.

"Belay, there," shouted Seagrave, as he came to a dead standstill and
stared at him, much to the amusement of the passers by. "You rode him,
well, of all the----curious things this beats cock fighting."

"And I am going to ride him again at the next meeting," said Jack.

"The shekels of Job Seagrave go on to that horse," said the skipper,
"and listen to me, young man, if he wins we'll lay in a nice little
stock of dainties for the voyage. The 'Golden Land' is not over well
provisioned, my inside feels like a salt mine sometimes before we touch
land."

"I am going to Brighton to-night," said Jack. "Will you come with me?"

"You mean it, my son?"

"I do, heartily welcome you will be, and you too, Harry."

Harry Marton declined, he had no intention of draining his friend's
slender purse, and, moreover, he had a little affair of his own with a
bright eyed girl he wished to attend to.

They parted at London Bridge, Jack and Captain Seagrave going by the
Brighton train.

"Glorious country this," said the captain, when they had passed Gatwick
and got into the open.

"I am proud of being a Sussex man. I have had some rare fun at Brighton
and Shoreham in my young days. It was there I got my first taste of the
sea, and I liked it so much I stuck to it, but I've done no good at it.
You see I hadn't the chances some of these swell skippers had, but I
made the most of what little I knew. I have been through the mill, I can
tell you, right through the whole boiling lot, from cabin boy to
skipper."

"All the more credit to you," replied Jack.

"That's as it may be, and as how folks think. It's not much to blow
about being captain of a dodgasted old coffin like the 'Golden Land,'
but it's a living and I like it. On land I feel lost, on board I am as
right as a trivet. It strikes me as curious a smart young fellow like
you wants to leave this country and go to such a hole as Freemantle.
You'll soon be sick of it, take my advice and throw it up."

Jack Redland laughed, he liked his bluff, hearty companion, and told him
the reason he was going away.

"That's it, is it?" said Captain Seagrave. "You want to make money and
come back and give it your best girl. Mind you, I don't say that is not
a laudable desire, but are you sure of the party in petticoats? I have
never had much to do with 'em myself, except in a casual way, but what
little I know about 'em makes me steer clear of such craft. They're
dangerous and you never can tell when they 'bout ship and sail clear
away from you. Mind you have her safely in dock before you go, and don't
let her come out until you return."

Jack laughed heartily as he replied--

"If she does not wait for my return I must find someone else to share my
fortune, if I make one."

The train pulled up with a jerk that threw Captain Seagrave forward.

"Bad steering," he said. "I wish I had the engine driver in my stoke
hole, he'd learn better manners down there."

"Tickets, please," said the porter.

"Tell the driver of this train he----"

The porter banged the door to, and left the skipper fuming.

Arriving at Brighton they walked to Jack Redland's lodgings, and after
tea sat on the balcony.

"You are well fixed up here," said Seagrave, "nice and comfortable I
call it. Rum old place this, I often wonder what sort of a time those
old dandies had in the Pavilion a century or more ago."

"Judging from what I have read, they must have been gay and festive,"
replied Jack. "They drank hard, and made love desperately then; we go
about such things in a more decorous manner now."

"That's true, but is it a change for the better? Is secret debauchery an
improvement on open profligacy?"

He was rather surprised to hear his companion talk in this strain, and
said--

"You do not think the morals of the present generation are any better
than they were in those days?"

"Not a bit, you've only to look at the papers to find that out. There is
some fairly sultry reading in the Divorce Court cases."

"Granted," replied Jack, "but still I think on the whole we have become
better mannered, and more circumspect, since the time of the Georges."

"Maybe, but with all the learning to be had at other people's expense, I
don't think we have much to boast about. In my young days we had to
learn to work almost before we learned to spell."

"It does not seem to have done you much harm."

"None at all, but I'd have been a tarnation sight more presentable if
somebody had taken me in hand and licked me into shape."

"What sort of a place is Fremantle?" asked Jack, changing the subject.

"It's not much like Brighton," replied Captain Seagrave, laughing.
"You'll find a vast difference, but there's worse places than Fremantle
on the face of the globe. It's an old convict settlement, at the mouth
of the Swan river, about a dozen miles from Perth. It's not one of the
best of harbours, but I have never met with any mishap there. It has
been improved a lot of late years. It will seem a very dull place to
you, I am afraid. May I ask what you are going to do when you arrive
there. It's not a good place to be stranded in."

"My friend, Harry Marton, is going out at the request of Barry
Tuxford----" commenced Jack.

"Barry! well, I'm blest. Barry Tuxford, you'll be all right with him.
There's no cleverer man than Barry in Western Australia, he can make
money out of anything he touches. What do you think his latest move is?"

"Something out of the common," ventured Jack.

"Rather! He's revived the pearl fishing again, and what's more, he's had
his usual luck.

"That is what he wants us for; I say us because he told Harry to take a
friend out with him. We are going pearl fishing."

Captain Seagrave laughed.

"Barry will get the pearls and you will do the hard graft, but he will
treat you fairly, he's a square man is Barry Tuxford. I reckon you'll go
up to Shark's Bay and round that quarter, it is an outlandish place. I
fancy life on a station would suit you best; anyway, I'd give it a
chance if the pearling does not agree with you. They'll be glad to have
a 'jackaroo' like you, who can ride, on any sheep station."

"What is a jackaroo?" said Jack.

"A new chum who wants to learn sheep farming; some of them pay a
premium, but there is no occasion for that. You can work for nothing and
learn a lot in a very short time. It's a rum life, but I have met many
men who would not leave it for anything else. I suppose the great open
country is to them like the sea to me, they feel lost without it."

"I shall make my way to Sydney if I cannot do anything in Western
Australia. Caleb Kenley, who trains for Sir Lester Dyke, has a brother
there, who is doing very well in the same line, and he says he will be
very glad to see me."

"I'm sure he will, you are one of the right sort, Mr. Redland, and if
you'll take an old salt's tip you'll quit pearl shelling and stick to
horses."

Jack laughed as he replied--

"The one occupation is almost as risky as the other."

"But you are more likely to go under at pearling than at racing."

"There is no harm in trying the former. I can easily leave it if I
wish."

"When we reach Fremantle I'll just put in a word for you both with Barry
Tuxford. He's got a finger in a good many things, and I should not
wonder if he dabbles in racing, there's a lot more of it than there used
to be in Western Australia."

They went on to the parade and Captain Seagrave pointed out the many
alterations that had been made at Brighton since he was a boy. "All
these fine houses at Hove have been put up since my time, and the sea
had a lot more of its own way than it has now," he said. They went on to
the old pier and listened to the band, and Captain Seagrave found his
companion so much to his liking that he forgot all about the time. It
suddenly occurred to him that he must make a move if he wished to be
back in London that night.

Jack had not much difficulty in persuading him to stop, and when they
returned to his room they sat up until the early hours of the morning
talking over the forthcoming voyage.

When Captain Seagrave left Brighton, Jack set out for The Downs.

Sir Lester and Winifred were much amused at his description of Captain
Seagrave, and his conversation.

"He knew your father," said Jack. "Strange, is it not, and also my
chance meeting with Harry Marton? I am commencing to think all these
happenings mean something in my favour."

"I am very glad you do not sail until after the Lewes meeting," said Sir
Lester. "I want you to ride Topsy Turvy in the Welter. He's top weight,
and there ought to be a fair price about him. I mean to put you a
hundred on, just for luck, and if he wins it will be a small amount of
capital for you to take out with you."

"I cannot accept it, indeed I cannot," said Jack.

"You must, my boy, just to please me. Remember you have ridden for me
several times, and won races, and have always refused anything I offered
you. Tell him, Win, he must allow me to have my own way on this
occasion, he will take more notice of you."

"Of course you must, Jack, it will be very unkind of you if you do not.
Besides, you have not won the race yet, although Caleb says it is a good
thing for Topsy Turvy if you ride. Promise me you will do as my father
wishes."

Jack had to give way before this combined attack, and acknowledged the
money would be very useful, if he happened to win.

A change had come over Winifred since Jack Redland's decision to leave
England. Her father noticed it and was troubled, after all she might be
fonder of him than she cared to confess. What a pity it was Jack had to
leave the country, but it was all for the best, and no doubt in time
Winifred would grow accustomed to his absence. Had he been to blame for
leaving them so much alone together? He thought not, for he liked Jack
Redland, and knew he was an honourable, upright man, even if he had
failed so far in life.

Jack remained at The Downs; there was always a room for him, and he was
treated as one of the household. The place had been almost a home to him
since his father died, and he felt he would regret leaving Sir Lester
and Winifred more than anything else, the parting with them would be the
most severe ordeal he would have to face.

Youth, however, is the time of hope and resolve, and he was sanguine of
success. So far everything had turned out strangely in his favour, and
there was no reason why it should not continue until his return.




CHAPTER FIFTH

_TOPSY TURVY_


Having completed the arrangements for his voyage, Jack Redland went to
Lewes to ride Topsy Turvy in his final gallop. The horse went well, and
he became exceedingly fond of his chance, so much so that he wrote to
Harry Marton and advised him to put a little money on as he thought it
was a pretty good thing.

"I am not, as a rule, over confident," he wrote, "but Topsy Turvy has
done such splendid work that I really think, bar accident, there is not
much risk, and I know I can ride as well as any of the other fellows."

Captain Seagrave had not many friends in London, but he imparted to his
chief officer and engineer that Topsy Turvy was about the best thing he
had ever heard of for the Southdown Welter.

"I don't mind telling you, Sam, we are in for a decent trip this time.
We're going to have company, two smart young fellows, and one of 'em is
going to ride the horse at Lewes. What do you think of that?"

"I'll back him, just for luck," replied Sam Slack, chief officer of the
"Golden Land," "but if he doesn't win our passenger will hear of it
during the voyage. We have none too much money to spare, as you are
aware."

"Granted, Sam, but that is all the more reason why we ought to get a bit
when we can."

Rufus Macdonald, chief engineer, was a canny Scot, but he had the bump
of speculation strongly developed, and when the skipper gave him the tip
he quietly said he'd think it over.

"The Sussex fortnight" is always pleasant, Lewes following after
Brighton meeting.

At Brighton, on the breezy downs, Sir Lester won a couple of races, and
as Topsy Turvy had no difficulty in beating these horses on the training
track they were all sanguine of success.

Captain Seagrave came to Lewes, and Jack introduced him to Caleb Kenley.

"I have heard of you," said the trainer, "and am glad to meet you. The
Lewes folk were very proud of you when you stood by the 'Northern Star'
and rescued all her crew, at the risk of losing your ship and everyone
in it. You see we did not forget you were born here, and I assure you we
thought a lot of your bravery."

"I should have been a coward to leave them in the lurch; it was risky,
but it's no more than one seaman ought to do for another," replied
Seagrave.

"Men do not always act as you did, and I maintain you deserved a lot
more credit than you received for that job."

"Seamen often risk their lives to save others, and no one hears anything
about it. We consider it part of our ordinary work," replied the
captain.

The trainer afterwards gave Jack Redland a full account of Captain
Seagrave's action, and it enhanced his respect for the man, whom he
already liked.

Lewes is a popular meeting, and there are several races for gentlemen
riders. Jack, however, determined to accept no mounts, except on Topsy
Turvy, although he had several offers. He intended to keep himself fresh
for that event as so much depended upon it.

In the paddock he introduced Captain Seagrave to Sir Lester and
Winifred, and the skipper at once divined this was the young lady Jack
Redland had in view. He admired his choice, and Winifred's affable
manner towards him increased his respect for Jack's judgment. Sir Lester
was amused at the captain and thought that after all Jack was not far
wrong in selecting the "Golden Land" to voyage in to Fremantle.

Topsy Turvy looked as fit as hands could make him, but he had top
weight, and there were half a dozen good horses in the race. Speculation
on the Welter, as a rule, was not extensive, but on this occasion the
bookmakers fielded liberally, and the odds against Sir Lester's horse
were five to one. At this remunerative figure he secured five hundred to
a hundred on Jack's account, while Captain Seagrave plunged to the
extent of a ten pound note, a reckless proceeding he had never been
guilty of before.

He handled the note tenderly, and sighed as he gave it to the layer of
odds, who plunged it with indifference into his capacious bag.

"He thinks no more of it than of a bit of waste-paper," thought the
captain. "I wonder if the day will come when I can bundle ten pound
notes into my pocket like that. If Topsy Turvy wins I shall have fifty
to the good, and shall know what it is to be rich."

Bibury was favourite at even money, and as he had recently won a big
race, the majority of backers fancied the race was good for him. Marco
and The Duke were also well backed, as were all the others, seven
runners appearing on the board.

The owner of Bibury, a clever amateur, was riding his horse, and he
advised Sir Lester to back it.

"Topsy Turvy is a good horse," he said, "but I do not think he has much
chance of giving the weight away to my fellow. I hear Jack Redland is
going out to Australia. I'm sorry, he is a real good fellow."

"This will be his last mount in England for some years, I expect,"
replied Sir Lester, "but I hope to see him carry my colours again when
he returns. You seem confident about Bibury; I may tell you my horse was
never so well as he is at present, and he will give you a good race."

Winifred was talking to Jack as he prepared to mount. She was very
anxious for him to win, as she knew the five hundred pounds would be
very useful to him.

"You must win, Jack," she said. "It will be the last time I shall see
you carry the old colours."

"I hope not," he replied cheerfully. "I do not mean to remain away for
ever."

"But we cannot tell what may happen in the meantime," she said, rather
sadly.

He got into the saddle, and bending down to her, said--

"You need have no fear of anything untoward happening. I shall always
think of you wherever I am, and come back to you as soon as I can."

She watched him ride away, and said to herself--

"Poor Jack, I wish he would remain here. How I shall miss him."

Topsy Turvy dashed down the course, pulling double, and there was no
mistaking the resolute style in which he galloped.

"He's a beauty," muttered Captain Seagrave, "they are a well matched
pair, how well he rides; bound to win I should say. I have another
fiver, I may as well go the whole hog and risk it. Job Seagrave, you are
a fool."

This time he had to be contented with four to one, and he grumbled at
the price.

The bookmaker informed him the odds were good, and that if he did not
like four's he could go without.

It was a pretty race, and the horses were all well together for the
first mile, The Duke leading the field.

Jack knew the course well, the run in has a curious dip, not far from
the winning post, and as Topsy Turvy possessed any amount of stamina it
was here he would show to advantage. They had half a mile to go and the
rider of the favourite went up level with The Duke, Jack keeping close
behind on Sir Lester's horse.

Captain Seagrave enjoyed racing, but he was not a good judge of horses
in running, and he fancied Topsy Turvy ought to be nearer the leaders.
He had fifteen pounds on the race, and all he had left in his pocket was
an odd sovereign and a few silver coins. He commenced to lecture himself
on the follies of speculating and said he would have been much better
off had he locked himself in his cabin, and did the same with his money
in his locker.

"It will teach me a lesson," he said. "I'll never make another wager. I
wish I had not come near the blessed course. It's not his fault, he
thought the horse would win right enough, but----"

He stopped short as he caught sight of the black jacket and orange
sleeves coming with a rush on the outside. His tone changed at once.

"He's going to win, by all that's wonderful he's winning. I wish I had
more money on. Let me see. Fifty and twenty, that's seventy, not a bad
little haul."

Bibury was still in the lead, and again the gallant skipper quaked in
his shoes. He was far more excited than when he rescued the crew of the
"Northern Star" in the midst of a raging sea. He was used to the howling
of the winds and the roar and lashing of the waves, but the turmoil of
the racecourse was new to him.

Winifred watched the finish eagerly, she wondered if Topsy Turvy would
get up and beat the favourite. The dip was reached, and the stiff pinch
began. Gradually Topsy Turvy drew nearer to Bibury and despite his
weight held his own.

The excitement was intense. Captain Seagrave shouted, and the sound
almost deafened the man standing next to him; he moved away, calling the
skipper anything but polite names. This had no effect upon Job, who
waved his arms frantically and cleared the space near him.

Nearer and nearer Topsy Turvy stole up to Bibury, until they were neck
and neck, then came the supreme moment, when, for a second or two, the
result hung in the balance.

It was all over--the black and orange went to the front, and Sir
Lester's horse had won for the second time.

Jack Redland was glad it was over, he had seldom ridden a better, or
harder race, for it had taken him all his time to beat Bibury. Thanks to
Sir Lester he had won five hundred pounds, and in his present position
it seemed like a fortune. He rode into the weighing enclosure and
dismounted, Sir Lester and Winifred congratulating him on the result.

"It was a close shave," he said, as he came out of the weighing-room,
with the saddle on his arm, "closer than anyone imagines. I had to ride
my hardest to beat Bibury, he is a good horse. It was the dip at the
finish did it, Topsy Turvy has more stamina than the other one."

"At any rate you won, and rode a capital race. Will you take that jacket
out with you, it may come in useful, bring you good luck," said Sir
Lester.

"It will be a delightful souvenir," said Jack.

"And I will work a forget-me-not on it if you wish," said Winifred.

"Do, please," answered Jack, "that will serve to remind me of many
things in the dear old land."

Captain Seagrave was beside himself with delight. He drew his money,
counting it over and over again to make sure it was right. Then he
sought out Jack Redland and shook his arm with tremendous force.

"Seventy pounds. That's what I have won. Only think of it. My lad, we'll
live in clover this trip, I tell you. Where's the horse, let me have a
look at him."

"There he is," replied Jack, highly amused. "Mind he does not shiver
your timbers with his heels, he has a nasty habit of lashing out."

Captain Seagrave patted the horse, and gazed at him admiringly, he
thought Topsy Turvy the most beautiful creature he had ever seen; had he
lost probably his interest in the animal would have diminished
considerably.

Harry Marton, in London, anxiously awaited the result of the race. He
had put a couple of pounds on, more than he could well spare, and if he
won he meant to obtain some necessary additions to his outfit.

He bought an evening paper, but it was too early, "all the winners" were
not in yet. Later on he bought another, and put it in his pocket. He
wanted to look at it where no one would observe him. He went down a side
street off the Strand and turned into one of the gardens on the
Embankment, where he sat down.

Slowly he drew the paper out of his pocket, and opened it. He read the
result of the first race, then went down the list. "Ah, here it is!" he
exclaimed. "Sir Lester Dyke's Topsy Turvy (Jack Redland)!" He waved
the paper aloft, to the astonishment of two sedate old gentlemen near
by. He had won ten pounds, and that meant much to him. He blessed the
name of Topsy Turvy and wondered how Jack Redland had got on, and the
skipper. Anyway, it was a downright good commencement, no doubt they
would encounter many reverses in time to come, but they had started with
a success and that meant a good deal.

There was nothing of the gambler about him. He had merely risked the
money, on Jack's advice, and he had won. He had no inclination to try
and make it into more by similar means. The "little bit on" had done him
no harm, and the excitement had done him good.

Harry Marton knew what gambling meant in stocks and shares, and that
this form of speculation was far more baneful than a small investment on
a race. His father's downfall could be traced to the former, there was
no danger of the son allowing himself to be snared in the same net. He
would not have been much worse off had he lost his two pounds, he was
far better off now he had won ten. It was with a light heart he went
home that night and slept soundly, until the din of the traffic awoke
him in the morning.

Captain Seagrave returned from Lewes, and went down to the "Golden
Land," lying in the docks. He felt like a man who had conferred a
benefit upon his fellows. There was a glow of satisfaction on his face
as he stepped up the gangway on to the deck. It was ten o'clock, and
everything seemed very quiet on board. He saw no one about and shouted
in his familiar gruff tones. The cabin boy came along grinning.

"Where's the chief officer?" asked Captain Seagrave.

"Ashore, sir."

"Where's the chief engineer?"

"Ashore, sir."

"Where's the whole blessed crew, anyway?"

"Ashore, sir."

"Who the h--ll's left on the ship?"

"Me, sir."

Captain Seagrave seemed inclined to burst with wrath, he changed his
mind and roared with laughter.

"So you are in charge, Billy?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any report to make?"

"Yes, sir."

"Out with it."

"Mr. Slack said he was very much obliged to you and that the whole
blessed ship was topsy turvy."

"Oh, he said that did he, anything more?"

"Yes, sir."

"Full steam ahead."

"Mr. Macdonald said all his men had followed the advice he gave them,
and you need not expect to see any of 'em for four and twenty hours."

"Go on, any further news," said Captain Seagrave.

"Please, sir, Mr. Macdonald said that if I kept to the craft, and looked
out for you, he was sure you'd make it right with me when you came on
board."

"The devil he did. I'm very much obliged to Mac, but he was quite right,
here's a dollar for you."

The astonished lad gazed in awe at the skipper, the gift was so
unexpected, so unusual, he could not understand it. As he walked aft he
muttered--"I'm blest if he ain't topsy turvy, too."




CHAPTER SIXTH

_TAPPING_


When Captain Seagrave appeared on deck next morning the first person he
encountered was the chief officer.

Sam Slack looked decidedly seedy; there was an up-all-night and
commenced-afresh-in-the-morning appearance about him. He lurched forward
and saluted the skipper. "That was a fine tip, captain, a grand tip; I
backed it, so did most of the men."

"When I came aboard last night I found the cabin boy in charge. Do you
consider that the proper way in which to leave a ship?"

"The circumstances were exceptional; we made a night of it."

"Where's Mac?"

Sam Slack smiled as he replied--

"When I left him last night he was taking in sufficient Scotch to last
him for a voyage; he'll turn up all right to-day, and we can do without
him. I hope you had a good win."

Captain Seagrave was in a good humour. The seventy pounds he had won was
safely locked up in his chest.

"I did all right, Sam. By Jove, young Redland can ride; it was a
clinking race. I was in a deuce of a funk at one time, thought my money
was gone, but he pulled through all right at the finish. I'll tell you
what, Sam, we'll get in a few delicacies for the voyage. You'll go your
share, I am sure."

"Certainly, but I only had five pounds on, and won twenty."

"A whole fiver! Where did it come from?"

"The office. I bled them; got a bit on account. It was like drawing a
back tooth, but I managed it."

The skipper looked at him admiringly. He knew Sharp and Co. were not
given to ostentatious displays of liberality.

"You are cleverer than I thought you were. How did you manage it?"

"Gave them your tip."

"You told Sharp I was backing Topsy Turvy?"

"I did. Moreover, I said you had persuaded Mac to follow your lead, and
Sharp said if Mac thought it was worth a bit, he'd have a trifle on
himself; and he did."

"Then Sharp ought to send us a couple of cases of whisky aboard. I'll
ask him about it," said the skipper.

Later on in the day the chief engineer put in an appearance, and
staggered into Captain Seagrave's cabin.

"Oh, it's you, is it, Mac?"

"Yes, it's me--what's left of me. You'll ruin the ship, Captain. It's
not fair to the men; it's demoralising. I hope next time you get a tip
you'll keep it to yourself."

"That's ungrateful. How much did you win?"

"Only a tenner. I had not sufficient faith in you to put on more than a
couple of sovs."

Job Seagrave laughed. He got on very well with his officers and crew.
They really liked the "old man" because he invariably stood by them, no
matter what trouble they got into, or whether they were right or wrong.

A clerk from the shipping office came to the door of the cabin, and
handed the captain a note. It advised him that the "Golden Land" must
sail as soon as possible after the remainder of the cargo, which was to
be delivered that day, was got on board.

"All serene," said Job. "But what about my passengers? They don't expect
her to get away before next week."

"Then you'll have to hurry them up."

"How the deuce am I to find them?"

"That's not my business; you have your orders," said the clerk
impudently. The office hands did not like the skipper; he was one too
many for them.

"Are you running the ship, or am I?" roared Job.

"You have the honour to command the old tub, I believe."

"Then you clear out of it as soon as possible, or you'll travel down the
gangway faster than you came. You shrivelled up young leek, how dare you
cheek me!"

The clerk disappeared. He had experienced what the captain's temper was
like before, and did not relish a repetition.

"The atmosphere feels cleaner now he's gone," growled Mac.

"We'll sail when we think proper, Mr. Macdonald, and I'm d----d if I am
going without my passengers, Sharp or no Sharp."

Mar chuckled. He gloried in defying "the powers that be" ashore.

"Tell him we are short of coal. Inform Mr. Sharp that there is not
sufficient grease on board to make a slide on the cabin floor, let alone
to oil the engines. That ought to settle him."

"Mac," said the skipper, "we are going to have a decent trip. I am about
to provision this ship in a lordly style. Will you stand in, it will be
worth it?"

The chief engineer looked dubious.

"I had a very small win," he said. "But I'll lay in some of my special,
and you're welcome to a share."

"Where's the crew?" asked Job, as he went on deck.

"Half in and half out. They keep turning up in small quantities; the
bosun's just arrived in a hansom," laughed Slack.

"He's a credit to the ship. When the bosun can drive about in a hansom,
there's no reason why the skipper should not have a carriage and pair."

"None at all; I'd like to see you in it, you'd fill it well," replied
the chief officer with a smile.

"Stow your chaff; I'm going to board Sharp in the office. Mind you, I
have forgiven you lubbers for deserting the ship last night, but don't
let it occur again, or there'll be a concert on board."

"And very little harmony."

"That is so, Sam; you have a keen intelligence," replied Job.

He drove to the office of Sharp and Co. in a hansom, and entered the
premises with a defiant air. The clerk who presented the letter on
board, saw him, and fled to the rear of the building.

Abe Sharp was in his office, and as the skipper entered he asked him to
be seated.

"Haven't time," said Job. "We're under sailing orders. Steam up, and we
move out in two hours. Are the papers ready?"

Sharp knew his man. "You received my letter?" he asked.

"I did. That's the reason the funnel is already belching forth smoke.
We're quick on the 'Golden Land,' a darned sight smarter than you are in
this office."

"I am afraid your temper is ruffled," said Sharp.

"And so would yours be if a tadpole addressed you with the authority of
a whale."

"Who is the tadpole?"

Job Seagrave named the offending clerk.

"He shall be reprimanded," said Sharp.

"Much good that will do him. Sack him."

"He's useful."

"Then I'm sorry for you. We have no use for things like that on the
'Golden Land.' Are the papers ready?"

"No, of course not."

"Then what the ---- is the use of dragging me up here in a hurry."

"You are too sudden, captain. I hope you don't drive the 'Golden Land'
at this rate."

Job Seagrave smiled as he replied--

"I'll tell you something in confidence, Mr. Sharp. I have made my will,
and left a written confession behind me in safe hands. If the 'Golden
Land' is submerged this trip you'll hear about it."

"She is perfectly seaworthy, and although an old boat, is by no means a
bad one."

"Have you ever travelled in her?" asked the skipper.

"No, oh dear no!"

"Then try a voyage in her this time. There'll be room in the firm for
another partner in a few weeks."

Abe Sharp laughed as he replied--

"You are in a joking humour this morning. I suppose it is the result of
your good luck yesterday?"

"And what may you be pleased to call my good luck?"

"Sam Slack called here, and said you had gone to Lewes to back a horse."

"Did he now? That's kind of him, giving me away like that," said Job.

"It's no concern of mine, of course," said Sharp, "but I advise you to
stick to your ship and leave horses alone."

"What are you going to put aboard out of your winnings?" asked Job.

"My winnings, what do you mean?" asked the astonished Sharp.

"You backed my tip, and it came off. I think we deserve a few odds and
ends in the way of luxuries after that. As a rule, mind you, I say as a
rule--this voyage may prove an exception--the 'Golden Land' is not
exactly a floating Hotel Cecil. Perhaps you'll assist us in the cookery
department, and I may say that the wine cellar is disgracefully
under-stocked."

Abe Sharp laughed again. He, too, was in a good humour.

"I confess I had a trifle on that horse Slack named. Only a trifle, mind
you. I'll see what can be done for you; but if steam is up, and you sail
in two hours, I fear it will be impossible for me to accede to your
request."

"Steam can be let off," said Job.

"What do you require on board?" asked Sharp.

"Most things; you can't go wrong whatever you send aboard, unless it be
salt," said Job.

"You have never complained before about the provisions."

"Your memory is failing. I made one complaint five years ago, and said
I'd let it stand good so that I need not be at the trouble of repeating
myself."

"I understand; and let me tell you, Captain Seagrave, we are perfectly
satisfied with you. Our firm never forgets the men who serve us well."

"I have been in your employ about twenty years," replied Job, "and if
you have not forgotten me, I cannot say you have remembered me."

"You have had your salary raised," said Sharp.

"That has not hurt me. The rise was imperceptible."

"Really, I think you deserve some consideration. I'll mention the matter
to the Board."

"We shall be half way to Australia then."

Abe Sharp was amused. He knew very well Captain Seagrave was underpaid;
but he could do very little for him on his own initiative.

"You must sail as soon as possible. When can you leave?" he asked.

"When I get my two passengers on board. I have to find them first."

"That's awkward; but have you no idea where they are?"

"The young fellow who rode Topsy Turvy yesterday I can lay hands on
pretty quick, and no doubt he'll find his chum."

Sharp was interested.

"Is Jack Redland going out with you?"

"Yes; I thought you knew."

"I was not in the office when he came with Marton. His father was a well
known man in the city."

"Was he? Then the son does not take after him. He's a gentleman," said
Job, who hated the city and the men in it.

Abe Sharp winced. He said sharply--

"I am busy now, Captain Seagrave; but I'll see about sending down to the
ship."

"And when must we sail?"

"I'll have the papers ready for you to-morrow."

"Very well, I may not see you again. I always feel like that when I
leave London in the 'Golden Land,'" said Job, with which parting shot he
stalked out of the office.

He sent a telegram to Jack Redland to Brighton, and received a reply to
the effect that he would be on board the next day.

"That's business," said Job as he read it.

He did not leave the ship again, and the following morning the chief
officer put his head in at the door of his cabin and said--

"It's come, sir."

"What's come?" asked Job.

"The consignment from the office."

"Good lord, you don't say so. What is it?"

"Cases. Tinned stuff and bottled stuff."

Captain Seagrave went out to inspect.

Piled up on the deck were over a dozen cases, and his practised eye saw
at a glance they were of the right sort.

"Any message with them?"

"None, except that they were sent with Mr. Sharp's compliments to
Captain Seagrave. How did you work it?" asked Slack.

"I gave him a pretty lively half hour. I reckon he'll not be sorry when
we are at sea. I told him I had made my will, and left a written
statement behind as to the state of the 'Golden Land.'"

Sam Slack laughed heartily.

"How did he take it?" he asked.

"Solemnly, he didn't care for the medicine."

"And I got a fiver out of him. Skipper, something's going to happen.
Sharp's been converted."

"Perhaps he has; but he'll be no credit to the sect he patronises.
They'll have to lock up the collection boxes pretty quick."

The chief engineer walked solemnly round the cases as he saw them on
deck.

"Where are these from?"

"The office."

"Is it rat poison?"

"No, it's a present from Sharp to the skipper."

Mac sat down; the blow was too much for him.

"A present from the office?" he said slowly. "You're certain it's not
explosives?"

"She'll go down soon enough without any assistance of that kind," said
the chief officer.

"Does he know about it?" and he pointed towards the captain's cabin.

"Oh, yes; he worked the oracle yesterday."

"He actually pumped some of the milk of human kindness into Sharp's
wretched body?"

"That is so."

"Then I'll go and shake hands with him," said Mac, and went to the
cabin. He stood looking at the skipper solemnly, and Job said--

"What is it, Mac?"

"I want to shake hands with you, captain. I'll consider it an honour."

The skipper held out his hand, wondering what it was all about.

"I congratulate you," said Mac. "I did not think any man breathing could
have done it."

"Done what?" asked Job.

"Tapped Sharp," said Mac, as he walked quietly away, and Job Seagrave
roared with laughter.




CHAPTER SEVENTH

_WEATHERING THE STORM_


The "Golden Land" started on her voyage to Fremantle with Jack Redland
and Harry Marton installed on board in the most comfortable cabin in the
ship.

"I'd have given you mine with pleasure," said Job, "but although it's
pleasant and airy, it's difficult to manage. You want to know it
thoroughly or you come to grief. In a rough sea you stand a good chance
of being washed out if the door is left open, and you might forget to
shut it."

Jack Redland said they were quite satisfied with their present quarters,
and had no desire to turn the skipper or anyone else out.

He had bid a hurried farewell to Sir Lester and Winnie, and the parting
was keener than he anticipated.

Left alone with the girl he was sorely tempted to ask her to be his
wife, but he knew it would not be fair to bind her in any way. He saw by
her face that she was deeply moved, and his heart beat high with hope.
She might wait for him. She might be true to the unspoken love they both
felt. If he made a fortune in a few years all might be well, but he knew
he must hurry and leave no stone unturned if he meant to win her.

"Take this, Jack," she said, handing him a small miniature of herself,
which her father had had painted not long before. "It will remind you of
me in the distant land, and I hope, make you feel you have a friend
whose thoughts are with you at all times."

"It is the greatest treasure I have," he said, and then, unable to
control himself longer, he took her in his arms and kissed her. In
another moment he was gone, hurrying from the house, almost afraid of
what he had done; but as he turned round to wave farewell, he saw her
standing there, both arms outstretched, as though she would call him
back at the last moment. He knew he would never forget that picture or
the kiss he had given her. Winnie was sorrowful, and yet happy. Jack had
betrayed himself, and she knew he loved her.

"Poor Jack," she murmured, "I will wait for him until he returns, no
matter how many years it may be."

She told her father, and he smiled. Jack was out of the way, and she
might forget. He could afford to be generous; at the same time he
sympathised with them, and had financial matters been other than they
were, nothing would have pleased him better than to have the young man
for his son-in-law.

"I gave him my miniature, I hope you do not mind," she said. "I wished
him to have some remembrance of me."

"You did quite right; nothing could have pleased him more, and you can
have another painted," he replied.

So the "Golden Land" steamed on her way, parting the lovers as the ocean
has parted thousands for ages past.

Although an old boat, she acted fairly well, and was not quite so
coffin-like as her skipper described her.

They coaled at Port Said, where Jack and his friend went ashore, to find
the usual cosmopolitan crowd, as dirty and unclean as ever. They were
not sorry to be on board again, and when they left the Red Sea behind
and steamed out into the wide ocean, the refreshing breezes invigorated
and put new life into them. The sea air seemed to tell of hope and
fortune, and Harry Marton especially was not at all sorry he had left
London far behind.

"We'll have a night ashore at Colombo, young men," said the skipper the
day before they arrived at Ceylon. "There's plenty to see, and it will
be a change for you; and it's our last port of call."

They were nothing loath, and when the ship entered the harbour she was
quickly surrounded with all manner of small boats, of various shapes and
sizes, manned by noisy shouting natives, clamouring for custom.

Job Seagrave was not long in putting things in order, and leaving the
chief officer in charge, they were pulled ashore by a couple of
villainous looking dark-skinned natives.

"A nice couple of niggers to row respectable white men," said Job.

One of the men grinned. He evidently had some idea of the nature of the
remark.

"You look uglier than ever now," said Job. "Take my advice, and keep
your smile for dark nights; it's far too powerful for daylight."

They walked through the bazaars and the skipper showed them most of the
sights that were interesting. Everything was new to them: the bright
coloured garments, the waving tropical trees, with their huge leaves,
the almost naked natives and rickshaw runners. It was difficult to tell
the women from the men. Outside the town swarms of dark-eyed naked
children surrounded them, clamouring for coins, no matter how small, and
showering blessings upon their path, in quaint broken English, as they
walked along.

They strolled about for the greater part of the night, and in the early
morning returned to the ship.

"They turn night into day here," said Jack, "and no wonder, for it must
be unpleasantly hot in the burning sun."

"You are right, it is," replied Job, "but you'll find it a lot hotter
where you are going to, and if you tackle Barry Tuxford's pearling
business you'll be as near to a certain place as it is possible to get
in this world."

"A nice look-out, anyway," replied Jack, "but we shall not back down."

After leaving Colombo a couple of days there were signs of a storm, and
Captain Seagrave knew what that meant in this latitude. Once he had
given up all hope of saving the "Golden Land," but she pulled through,
although it was a narrow squeak. He had no desire for another such
experience. Anxiously he scanned the sky, and saw great black masses
rolling and chasing each other like angry billows. There was a peculiar
moaning sound in the air like spirits in torment; he had heard it
before, and dreaded it. The heat was oppressive, and Jack thought the
ship was as hot as an oven. He, too, watched the sky, but was not aware
of the danger. He saw the skipper on the bridge and went towards it.

"There's something brewing up there," said Job shouting down to him.

"Rough weather, eh?"

"Yes, we're in for it."

"We have had no occasion to grumble so far," replied Jack, "and we can
hardly expect to get through without some kind of a rough and tumble."

Blacker and blacker grew the clouds, and the roaring sound increased in
volume.

"Better get below," roared Job, "or hold hard on to something."

Jack caught hold of the rail near him, and steadied himself. He had no
intention of going below and was curiously anxious to see a storm at
sea. As he looked up at Captain Seagrave, and saw his face, he felt
there was a man who could be trusted, who would never lose his courage,
and he commenced to understand why the "old tub" had weathered so many
storms. The skipper might be a rough man, unpolished, but his heart was
in the right place, his nerves true as steel, and the desire to do his
duty strong within him. Such men as these, Jack thought, have made
England the nation she is, and raised her merchant vessels and ocean
steamers to the highest pitch. Ashore Captain Seagrave might cause
smiles to cross the faces of men who were as mere pigmies compared to
him now.

Suddenly the coming storm struck the ship. She staggered, quivered,
groaned, swerved, then righted herself and plunged forward into the
boiling, seething mass of water again.

Jack held on tight, for the wind howled and shrieked around him, and
every timber seemed to creak and groan. Far ahead he saw Sam Slack
gesticulating furiously at some of the crew; he wondered how he kept his
legs with such a heaving, shivering mass beneath him. Sam, in his way,
was quite as good a man as the skipper, although he was not born to
control and lead like Job Seagrave. He obeyed any orders given him, no
matter the danger involved in carrying them out, but he would have been
afraid to give them on his own responsibility.

Jack watched him curiously, and then looked up at the bridge. Captain
Seagrave was shouting through a trumpet to Slack, who heard him amidst
all the din, and came towards him. Then there was a roar of words which
were unintelligible to him, but which the chief officer understood, and
hurried "forrard" again. It seemed easy for him to walk the deck; Jack
tried the experiment, but as he let go his hold the ship lurched; he
fell heavily, and a huge wave washed him into the centre of the vessel.
He was unhurt, and laughed at his experience, but had no desire to try
it again. All through the night the wind howled, and the seas swirled
round the "Golden Land," in huge angry masses. When Jack staggered on
deck again next morning he saw Captain Seagrave at his post on the
bridge, braving the still furious elements, fighting them until they
were beaten.

"He's been there all night," said Sam Slack, as he shouted into Jack's
ear; "you never catch our old man leaving the bridge in a gale like
this. I'll be glad when we're out of it. So long as he sticks at it we
stick at it for shame's sake. Mac's been down in the engine-room all
night, and he's there yet. If strong language can keep his boilers going
it'll be done. Mac's powerful in a storm, it kind of works him up, and
he knows the engines are none too good, and want watching like babies.
Where's your mate?"

"Down below. He's very bad; wishes he was ashore, I think," said Jack
laughing.

Towards the afternoon the storm slackened, and Job Seagrave left the
bridge. Jack followed him into his cabin.

"You have had a rough night's work," he said. "I can quite understand
now why the 'Golden Land' has made so many safe passages."

Job smiled as he pulled off his oilskins.

"It was pretty rough, I acknowledge; but we have been in many worse
things in our time. As for me being on the bridge, I would not leave the
old tub in any other hands; they'd smash her for a certainty--don't know
her as well as I do. We understand each other, and when I give my
orders, she obeys. Sam's all right, a real good sort, but she'd not do
for him what she will for me."

Mac came in, grimy, and mopping his face with a greasy rag.

"I told 'em to let me know when you'd come off the bridge," he said.
"You'll be the death of me some day. It's hell down below, and every
minute I'm afraid there'll be a burst up."

"Not with you in charge, Mac. I have been telling Mr. Redland the ship
understands me better than any man on board, and it's the same with you
and the engines."

"Yours is a cooler job than mine," growled Mac.

"I know you are always nice and warm," replied Job, "but think what an
advantage it is in cold weather."

"We never run into cold weather," replied Mac with a grunt. "Why don't
you take a trip to the Arctic regions to give us a chance of getting
even with you?"

"I'll think it over," replied Job. "Meanwhile try this, it will do you
good," and he poured out a stiff nip of whisky.

Mac drained it at a gulp, and his eyes glistened.

"One more will just about recompense me for a beastly night in the black
hole," he said.

Job laughed and gave him another.

"Is this some of Sharp's stuff?" he asked.

"Yes, do you like it?"

"It's all right. Sharp is a much better man than I took him for; there's
a probability of a rise all round when we get back."

During the remainder of the voyage the weather was glorious, and as they
neared the coast of Australia, Jack and his friend were keeping a keen
look-out for the promised land. The first sight of it was not
prepossessing, it looked a barren uninviting coast line, but Job
Seagrave told them, although it seemed inhospitable, there were plenty
of grand places inland.

The "Golden Land" entered the harbour at Fremantle, and Jack and Harry
felt a keen regret that the voyage was at an end. Throughout the trip
everyone on board had done their best to make things pleasant, and to
part with Captain Seagrave, Sam Slack and Rufus Macdonald, was like
taking leave of old friends.

"You have no occasion to hurry," said Job. "Make the ship your home for
a day or two longer if you like; you are quite welcome. But I expect it
won't be long before we have Barry Tuxford on board. He's a quick man,
is Barry, and when he hears we are in port he'll be down as soon as he
can, no matter where he may be."

This was true enough, for the morning after they arrived at Fremantle he
came on board. He recognised Harry Marton at once, and cast a sharp
glance at Jack when he was introduced.

"They'll do, I fancy," he said to Job Seagrave, who stood by watching
him with some amusement. He knew Barry's way of reckoning up people, and
making up his mind on the spot.

"Yes, they'll do; mind they are not too good for you. They are clever,
very clever, and far better than most of the men you get out here."

"I have had some good ones through my hands in my time," was the reply.

"Come and dine with us to-night," said Job. "We'll have a merry party on
board, and it will serve to make you better acquainted. I have something
important to tell you about one of these young men that will interest
you very much indeed. You are fond of racing, and you'll be surprised
when you hear my yarn."

"I like a bit of sport," replied Barry, "and I have a few good horses,
but I don't let it interfere with my regular work, not if I know it."

"And what may be your regular work this trip?" asked Job.

Barry laughed as he replied--

"Fishing, my boy; fishing in deep waters, and what's more, finding 'em
too."

"Finding what?" asked Job.

"Pearls, lovely pearls," replied Barry, "and I'll be back for dinner,
skipper, and tell you all about it."




CHAPTER EIGHTH

_BARRY TUXFORD_


Barry Tuxford was one of those clever, shrewd colonials who can turn
their hands to almost anything, and make it pay. He would tackle any
business or job with no fear of failure, and in his time he had followed
many occupations. A hard worker himself, he expected the men in his
employ to follow his example, and he was not at all slow at reminding
them of their faults, when they had any that particularly annoyed him.
He had travelled in many parts of Australia and seen life on the gold
fields when the miners' camps were rough and dangerous, and men sought
for the precious metal with their lives in their hands. He had tried
station life, and found it too slow, accordingly he changed it, and took
an hotel in a mining township. Here, much to his credit be it said, he
held his own, conducted his house as respectably and orderly as could be
expected in a community where customers pitched nuggets into a bucket in
payment for "quenchers," and where the women caused even more trouble
than the miners. The police respected Barry, and he was wise enough to
keep in their good books. He had a bullet wound in his arm, caused by a
shot from an angry miner, at close quarters, across his counter; but he
made light of it at the time, and went on with his business without
interruption. His coolness and courage were unquestionable, and he might
have been in more than one big thing in his time had his restless spirit
not led him to seek new sources of labour.

Barry Tuxford had money; how much no one ventured to surmise, for it was
difficult to reckon him up financially, he had a finger in so many pies.
He could not have summed up his financial position in a few hours, it
would take him months. His wealth fluctuated according as the
enterprises in which he was engaged panned out, but he seldom lost much
over his ventures, and was generally considered a lucky man. All his
life he was of an uncertain age--he might be anything from forty to
fifty, or more--he had fought for his own hand, and if the cards
favoured him, so much the better. As a lad he had been turned loose in a
mining camp when his mother died, and his father was shot in a brawl. At
this time he was twelve years old, and knew as much almost as a man of
twenty. Miners are a rough lot, but the majority of them are straight
goers, and dislike bouncers and blackguards. They are also generous when
their luck is in. Young Barry Tuxford was popular; his misfortunes
touched the right chord in many a rough nature, and he lived a merry
life in the camp for some years. He managed to secure a claim in a new
rush, and it turned out fairly well. He sold it for a considerable sum
and cleared out of Victoria to Western Australia. It was one of the
peculiar characteristics of Barry Tuxford that at this time he should
have made his way to a colony about which very little was known, and
that little anything but encouraging. Advice was given him to go to New
South Wales, as it was a prosperous colony, while Western Australia was
a desert sparsely populated. His reply was that he preferred the desert
as there would be more room for him, and not so much chance of being
crowded out. He had some difficulty in reaching Perth, and when he
arrived there was so disgusted at his prospects that he shipped with a
pearler to Batavia, and from there eventually found his way to
North-West Australia, and on to the Lacepede Islands, where there was
such an abundance of green turtle that he wondered if anything else
managed to live in the place. This pearl shelling expedition was not a
success, so far as he was concerned; but he had never forgotten his
experiences, or the probabilities held out if a rich lot of shell could
be discovered. For many years after his return to Perth he was too much
occupied to put to any practical use these experiences of his early
days, until a chance meeting decided him to try pearl fishing again on
his own account. One Jacob Rank, a man Barry had known in Victoria,
informed him that good pearls were to be had in a large bay some five
hundred miles to the north of Fremantle. How he came by his knowledge he
imparted to him, and as it was a question of his having the money and
his informant none, he made very good terms. Unfortunately, Jacob Rank
was drowned on the first trip of the pearling boats, and the men who
accompanied him declared on their return that the whole thing was a
hoax, and that there was no pearl shell in the bay.

Barry Tuxford paid them off, but did not believe their story. He had his
doubts as to how Jacob Rank came by his end, for they were a rough crew
he had with him. He kept his suspicions and his opinion to himself, but
he meant to have those pearls. Jacob Rank had no reason to give him
false information; on the contrary, it was to the man's interests to
deal fairly by him. He even had his doubts about Rank having been
drowned, and thought it more than probable he had been deserted when
absent from the schooner. The crew of the boats were only paid wages,
and had no interest in the venture, so it was possible they determined
to make the trip one of pleasure, and not toil, and accomplished this by
leaving the leader of the expedition in the lurch. It was about this
time Barry Tuxford received Harry Marton's letter, and it occurred to
him he would be a useful, trustworthy representative to send out with a
second fleet. It was not necessary he should know anything about the
sailing of such vessels, all that would be required of him would be to
see that everything was carried out in a satisfactory way. It was with
this intention he wrote to him, and asked him to bring a chum if he
wished. Two such men would be better than one.

When he saw Harry Marton and Jack on the "Golden Land," he was quite
satisfied he had acted for the best. He at once took a fancy to them,
and he was quick in his likes and dislikes. Captain Seagrave was an old
friend, and he was ready enough to accept his invitation to dine on
board, more especially as it would enable him to find out what manner of
young men these were. The captain had so he said, "spread himself" in
the matter of providing good entertainment for his visitor.

"It's well worth taking a little extra trouble over," he said, "and when
a man has dined well he is generally in a good humour."

Barry Tuxford was a good talker. Most men of his experience are. They
have much to tell, and it is generally interesting. Before dinner
Captain Seagrave told his visitor how Jack had ridden Topsy Turvy at
Lewes and wound up by saying--

"He's too good for pearl fishing, Barry. Take my advice, and let him
manage and ride your horses, it will pay you well, and suit him better."

"He looks uncommon smart, and he shall have his choice, but if I'm a
judge he'll want to try the pearling first; it will be a change for him.
He's out here to make money, I suppose, and I shall give them both an
interest in the affair. That will be a sufficient inducement to him to
try his hand at it," said Barry. "If he cares to join me at racing when
he returns I'll give him a look in, but he will not make much at that
game."

After dinner Barry Tuxford placed his plans before them. He told them of
his early adventures, and how Jacob Rank was supposed to have been
drowned when the pearling vessels were in the bay.

"What I propose to do is to send two schooners to the place; you will be
on one, Harry Marton on the other. You will be in charge, and I have
found two reliable men who are willing to act under your orders. They
are good seamen, and have made several voyages amongst the islands and
elsewhere. You will be away about six months, perhaps more, and the
schooners will be amply provisioned. There will be some roughish work,
but I don't think you are the sort of men to shirk it. The divers are
aborigines, and curious fellows to deal with. Most of them thieve when
they have an opportunity, and this you will have to guard against. Some
of them are treacherous, but I think I can pick a pretty even lot who
will work well if you keep a strict watch over them. Both the skippers
have had experience of this work, and know what is required. It is much
cheaper to send these divers than to go in for more modern methods, and
I am not at all sure it is not the better way of getting the shell. If
you agree to go I will pay you so much a month, and you shall also have
a share of the profits. That is fair, I think."

They agreed with his proposal, and Jack said--

"I may as well tell you I came out here with the intention of making a
moderate fortune if possible. I have urgent reasons for doing so, and I
feel that in meeting you the first move has been laid towards success.
Captain Seagrave has told you I can ride, and I pride myself on being a
good horseman. If that will be useful to me, I shall be glad of an
opportunity to show what I can do."

"And you shall have it when you return. I have a few decent horses, but
you can look them over and judge for yourself. If there is anything you
fancy I will have him trained and got into first condition while you are
away, then perhaps we can arrange for you to ride him in a race."

Jack's face showed his pleasure, and he said--

"I shall be delighted to ride for you, and I hope win. Is there much
chance of making money here by speculating in mining shares?" he asked,
changing the subject.

Barry Tuxford smiled as he replied--

"Mines are queer things to touch if you do not understand them, or have
no means of acquiring special information. Occasionally I dabble in
shares. I have done so this week in the Great Tom mine; I think it will
pan out well. It's a pure speculation at present, but if they strike it
rich, as I have every reason to believe they will, there's a lot of
money to be made. The shares stand at a pound, and at that price they
are worth buying."

Jack was silent for some minutes. It was a risk. He had five hundred
pounds and a draft for two hundred his sister had given him.

"I wish I had some cash to put into it," said Sam Slack.

Barry laughed.

"I never knew a sailor to be overburdened with that commodity," he said.

"By jove, you are right," said Job, "it's the worst paid job a man can
go in for. Look at me; here have I been in the line for how many years."

"Fifty!" interrupted Barry.

Job shook his fist at him.

"Half that, my boy; let us say half, and I have risen to be what?"

"Skipper of the beautiful modern steamer, the 'Golden Land,'" said Mac
quietly.

"Yes, Mr. Macdonald, you have hit it; that's the truth. I am the captain
of this most admirable craft, and I have every reason to believe I shall
end my days on her--at the bottom of the sea," said Job.

"And yet with all its drawbacks and disadvantages I have never met a
good sailor--like yourself, skipper--who wishes to give up the sea,"
remarked Barry.

Jack had made up his mind.

"I have five hundred pounds, will you invest it for me in the Great Tom
mine?" he said quietly, and as though it was a matter of small
importance. Barry Tuxford regarded him curiously; this was a proposal he
was not prepared for. The Great Tom mine was all very well in its way,
but for a "new chum," with none too much cash, it was hardly the kind of
investment to recommend, although he had faith in it.

"Five hundred is rather a large amount," he said. "I can get you the
shares, but I think a hundred will be sufficient for you to risk. It is
a mine that has not yet been fully worked, and the additional capital
will no doubt enable the holders to prove its worth; yet there is such a
thing as being over sanguine, also failure."

Harry Marton's experience of mining shares, as already stated, was not
pleasant, and he strongly advised Jack not to risk so much.

"Take his advice, and buy a hundred," he said.

Jack Redland was, however, determined, and the sporting spirit in him
roused. It was a big plunge, and he might lose the whole amount, but he
made up his mind to take the risk.

"If you will purchase me five hundred shares I shall be much obliged,"
he said. "I am quite willing to take the risk, and I need hardly add I
shall not blame you if I lose the lot. Something, however, tells me this
will be a lucky deal, I am almost certain of it."

"You are a good plucked one!" exclaimed Barry admiringly, "and you will
get on in our country. I'll do it for you, and I may add it is the exact
number of shares I hold."

"Buy me fifty," said Captain Seagrave.

"And me ten," chimed in Sam.

"Now, Mac, how many do you want?" asked the captain.

Mac muttered something about fools and their money, and was understood
to say he'd see the Great Tom mine somewhere before he'd sink coin in
it.

Barry Tuxford agreed to purchase the shares desired, and said when Jack
and Harry were prepared to leave Captain Seagrave's hospitable ship, he
would put them up until the schooners were ready to sail.

As he went down the gangway he said to Jack--

"I believe you have done a good day's work. It would not surprise me if
they struck it rich in the Great Tom mine before you come back from the
fishing, and if they do, and the shares jump up, you can sell out or
hold on as you think best. Good luck!"




CHAPTER NINTH

_IN SHARK'S BAY_


Parting with Captain Seagrave and his men was no easy matter, but in a
few days farewells were exchanged and the new arrivals went to Barry
Tuxford's house at Perth. Here they remained three or four weeks, while
the schooners were being fitted out, and learned what their duties would
be.

"You'll find pearls, I am sure," said Barry, "and I should not be at all
surprised if you came across Jacob Rank. If he is alive, and you meet
him, he'll be very useful, for he knows all about the place and you can
tell him from me if he helps you I will not forget him."

Perth, in those days, did not strike them as a particularly desirable
place to live in, but Barry Tuxford found it suited his purpose to
remain there for the present.

The two schooners lay in the harbour at Fremantle, about a dozen miles
from Perth, at the mouth of the Swan river, and Jack Redland frequently
went on board to make himself acquainted with the vessels; he had more
energy than his friend who was, however, Barry found, clever at figures,
which suited him admirably. One of the vessels had been a trading
schooner, and although not very clean or tempting to look at, seemed a
seaworthy craft, the other was smaller but better fitted. Jack decided
if his mate had no objection, to go in the larger one, and as this was
easily arranged, he superintended her stores and general outfit.

The crews secured were a mixed lot, some few Dutchmen, and an odd Malay
or two, but the skippers were rather decent fellows and he felt it would
be easy to handle them. Most of the divers were to be secured in the
neighbourhood of Shark's Bay, but half a dozen aboriginies were to go
with them. These blacks had travelled in various schooners and were
accustomed to the sea, moreover they were expert divers.

At last, everything was ready for the start, and Barry Tuxford came to
see them sail. The name of the schooner Jack Redland took charge of was
the "Heron," her skipper, Phil Danks, while Harry Marton's was called
the "Wild Cat," and the skipper, Hake Moss, both men being well known to
Barry.

The first trial for pearl shell was to be made in Shark's Bay, but it
was farther to the north-west that the place indicated by Jacob Rank was
to be found. The "Golden Land" had not yet cleared on her return voyage.
As it was with some difficulty she obtained sufficient cargo, and Job
Seagrave and his crew gave them a rousing send off as they passed.

"They are two smart little schooners," he said, "and I hope the boys
will do well with them, we shall have a dull trip home without 'em,
Sam."

Jack soon found the motion of the "Heron" was far different to that of
the steamer, and for the first few days he was decidedly uncomfortable.
It was arranged between the skippers that if the schooners were parted
they were to make the best of their way to Shark's Bay. The weather was
fine, with a cool refreshing breeze, and this was a happy augury for a
successful trip. There seemed to be no difficulty with the men, and when
complaints were made, Jack settled them in an amicable manner.

"It will not take us long to get to Shark's Bay if this wind holds,"
said Danks, as he and Jack stood on the deck watching the steady lash of
the sea as the "Heron" cut swiftly through it; in the distance was the
"Wild Cat," but she did not make such good way.

"The sooner we are there the better for all," was his reply, "some of
these fellows may get a bit out of hand."

"Let 'em try it on," said Danks. "I've dealt with such fellows before,
and got the best of it. When they do kick up a row they are devils, and
a belaying pin is the best thing for them."

"I hope we shall manage without that," laughed Jack. "You have been to
Shark's Bay before, have you not?"

"Yes, four times, we shall not find much there, and the pearls are not
equal to those farther north. I have an idea where this bay Rank spoke
of is, and if I am correct it's a likely spot."

"You knew Rank?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry if he's come to grief, but I think with Mr. Tuxford,
it's more than likely we may find him there. Jacob Rank is not the sort
of man to be badly left, and depend upon it if the crew he had with him
got the better of him he would get out of their clutches somehow.
There's not many men know more about pearling than Jacob, but he's
awfully unlucky in some things, and never seems to make money. I'm not
struck on pearl fishing, but Barry Tuxford is a liberal man, and I've
done work for him before."

"In what line?" asked Jack.

"When he had a station up country he bred a lot of good horses and used
to ship them from Fremantle to Singapore. I have run him more than one
lot over; it's a rum game, but it pays well, always providing you have a
good passage and not many of them die."

"You don't mean to say you have taken horses from Fremantle to Singapore
on a schooner?" said Jack, surprised.

"I have, and over forty of them in one not much larger than this. I can
tell you they were crowded in their stalls, and had a deuced bad time of
it, but it's wonderful how soon they pick up when they get ashore."

Jack was interested, he could hardly believe it possible to cram forty
horses into a schooner not much larger than the "Heron."

"You can imagine what it is like down below," said Danks; "when the heat
beats down on the schooner, I tell you the atmosphere is not exactly
pleasant. What we fear most is a dead calm, it kills the horses off
quickly, and sometimes we run short of water. The sharks have a great
feast when the poor brutes are heaved overboard."

"I should not like that job," said Jack.

"No, I don't suppose you would, and it is not to my taste, but there's a
lot of money in it if you have a successful trip and that is what most
of us are after."

"Quite right," said Jack. "It is what I am after at all events, and I
want you to help me."

"I'll do all I can, but there's a heap of luck attached to pearl
fishing," was the reply.

They were becalmed for a couple of days, and then, a fresh breeze
springing up, they were soon near to Shark's Bay, and when they entered
Jack Redland was surprised at its immense size, and at the wild almost
uninhabited look of the land. There were very few houses to be seen,
most of the fishers living in tents so as to be able to move near the
fisheries.

"Well, what do you think of it?" Harry asked Jack as he came on board.

Jack looked glum as he replied, "I never saw a more uninviting spot and
we seem to have the place pretty much to ourselves."

"I hope we shall not have to stay here long," answered Harry, "it will
give me the blues."

"You'll find it all right when the divers are at work, there'll be
plenty of excitement for you then, but we are newcomers and some of the
old hands here may turn a bit crusty. I think we had better go ashore
and see how the land lies," said Danks.

It was evident the arrival of the two schooners had created some
sensation amongst the dwellers in tents, for a small knot of men stood
discussing them.

Jack, Harry and Phil Danks got into a boat and were pulled to the beach.
A big powerful man came down to meet them, his looks were not friendly,
and he seemed to be the boss of the others, who stood some distance
away.

"He's Amos Hooker," said Danks, "and we must try and work our cards with
him, he rules the roost here."

"It's you, Phil Danks, is it?" said Hooker, "and I see you've got
company with you. There's not much for you to find here, and what little
there is by rights belongs to us. We live here, and I'm damned if it's
fair for you fellows to come and poach on our fishery."

"We have as much right to fish here as you have," retorted Phil Danks,
"and what's more, we intend to try our luck. Be sensible, Amos, we can
make it worth your while. If you care to live in this hole, I know you
have very good reasons for keeping out of the way. There's one or two
men down at Fremantle who would not be at all sorry to come across the
man who cleared out with the 'Mary Hatchett.'"

Amos Hooker's eyes gleamed and he looked angrily at the speaker, but the
blow struck home and Jack saw he was not quite so brave as he wished to
appear.

"Who told you I was in the 'Mary Hatchett'; you can tell 'em from me
it's a lie."

"Oh, no, it is not, so you had better be reasonable. There are several
things you can do for us if you will, and you shall be well paid, if not
in cash in kind, and when you hear who has fixed out these schooners
you'll know he is not the man to forget you."

Amos Hooker had no relish for this situation. He was the best man at
Shark's Bay amongst the fishers, and he felt if he gave way too easily
his authority would be diminished. It would never do to give in without
some show of bluster, so he said,

"If the Governor owned the schooners, you have no right to come here.
What's become of that fool, Jacob Rank? We soon cleared him out, and a
nice crew he had with him; I suppose you know he got left?"

"We heard he was drowned," said Danks.

Amos Hooker laughed as he replied,--

"Not him, the devils put him ashore in some bay in the North-West, and
he's there now, if the natives have not made a meal off him."

This was good news to Jack and Danks, but they betrayed no surprise.

"Then we may find him when we go north," replied Phil.

"You are not going to stop here?" questioned Amos, eagerly.

"It all depends upon our luck, and how you and your mates behave."

"Leave the pearling alone and we shall not interfere."

"That's very likely," replied Phil, "we have not come five hundred miles
for the benefit of our health."

"Then you mean to fish?"

"Yes, and you cannot stop us."

"We'll see about that when you start," replied Amos, but he spoke in
such a tone that Phil Danks knew he had given in and was merely showing
off before the men, who had drawn nearer.

"Come on board and talk it over," suggested Danks.

Amos turned to his mates and said,--

"I've received an invitation, boys, shall I accept it? You know Phil
Danks, he wants me to board his schooner to talk about the fishing,
shall I go?"

"Please yourself," answered one man, "but we don't want any interlopers
here, it's hard enough to get a living as it is, without a lot of
strangers coming along."

"I'll come," said Amos, and he stepped into the boat.

When they reached the "Heron," Amos Hooker looked around, and saw, from
the appearance of the schooner and the crew that they meant business. He
also recognised that the combined crews would prove more than a match
for the fishers of Shark's Bay. Evidently it was the best policy to
secure any favours that were to be had.

"You did not tell me the name of the man who owns these schooners," he
said.

"Barry Tuxford," replied Phil, who thought it better to deal with the
man, as he knew more about the ways of these people than either Jack or
Harry.

Amos Hooker seemed surprised as he replied,--

"He's gone in for pearling, that's rather out of his line, is it not?
What is his little game?"

"His little game, as you call it, is pearls, and he means to have some,
or rather we intend to find them for him. I am sure you will recognise
the fact that it will be far better for you to help us than put
obstacles in our way."

"He's a clever man, but he's made a mistake this time; there's precious
few pearls to be found here now, and what we do get are not worth much,
they are the wrong colour."

"Never mind about that, we will take our chance. What I wish to know is,
will you stand by us and persuade your mates to be peaceable?"

"It's more than I can do without some recompense."

"I'll see to that, or rather these gentlemen will, and you can depend
upon it you will be gainers and not losers," said Danks.

"Who told you about the 'Mary Hatchett'?" asked Amos, who had helped
himself to liquor freely.

"That is of no importance, but I know the whole story, and it is lucky
for you that you are at Shark's Bay and not at Fremantle; they would
never think of looking for you here."

"And you will keep it dark?" asked Amos.

"Certainly, if you do as we wish, and keep your mates quiet."

"And what about the money?" said Amos, with a leer.

"You shall have ten pounds for yourself if it comes off," said Phil
Danks.

"That's not much."

"It is plenty, and you are not entitled to any. You can easily concoct
some yarn to please the others."

"Very well, I'll see about it, but I'm going to make a night of it here,
I don't often get the chance. I suppose you have no objections?"

"None at all," said Jack, as Amos appealed to him. "You are quite
welcome to anything we have on board."




CHAPTER TENTH

_THE TWO BLACK DIVERS_


Amos Hooker went ashore taking with him several bottles of spirits with
which to propitiate the pearl fishers. The men were down on the beach to
meet him, and the sight of the bottles put them in a good humour; it was
not long before they emptied two or three, and then commenced to talk
freely.

"Spent a jolly night on board, Amos?" asked one man.

"Yes, they are real good fellows, two new chums, and you can take my
word for it they'll do us no harm with their fishing."

"We made up our minds last night there's to be no pearling here, or
there'll be a row."

"Tom Case, you are a fool," replied Amos. "Let 'em try their luck, and
it's long odds they find nothing. While they are messing about here we
shall have a plentiful supply of liquor, food stuff, and tobacco from
the schooners. They are well provisioned, and that will be a change,
you'll allow."

"There's sense in that," said one of the men, "and as Amos says, it's
long odds they pick up nothing. I say, leave 'em alone; what's your
opinion, mates?"

"If we give them a free hand it will mean that others will come and
expect the same treatment," said Case. "I vote we stop their little game
as soon as they commence."

Tom Case was jealous of the position held by Amos Hooker, and this was
his reason for holding out. He saw, however, that the prospect of fresh
supplies was too great a temptation for them, and finally it was decided
to permit the newcomers to try their luck without any interference. This
news Amos Hooker conveyed to the "Heron," and Jack handed him over ten
pounds as a reward.

"We require some more divers," said Jack, "can you procure them for us?"

"How many do you want?"

"Six or seven; we have some of our own on board."

"I can get you them, but they are not very reliable. Still, if you treat
them well I think they will be all right."

"We will deal liberally with them," said Jack, "providing they work
well."

Amos Hooker saw a chance here. He had two black fellows who would do
anything for him, and they were expert divers.

"Do you wish to take any of them with you when you go north, if they
turn out well?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Jack, readily, "and they can be put in here on our
return."

"Then I'll try and fix it up for you," said Amos.

The arrangements for sending out the boats with divers were soon
completed, and while Amos was ashore they were at work in different
parts of the bay.

Amos Hooker's two blacks were half civilised, and had been employed as
divers for a long time. They were wonderfully clever, and could remain
under water for a very long time. Through these men, Amos Hooker had
secured many a good pearl that ought not to have fallen to his share. He
had no scruples in robbing his mates by means of these divers who had
been with him on the "Mary Hatchett" when he stole the schooner and made
several voyages on his own account. He had treated them well, and
although they were a couple of scoundrels they were afraid of him, and
at the same time curiously attached to him. He seemed to exercise great
influence over them, and they evidently understood one another. They
were tall strong men, and capable of great endurance. When Amos Hooker
seized the "Mary Hatchett" they stood by him, and had it not been for
their support his plan for taking the schooner would have failed. There
were ugly tales afloat about the "Mary Hatchett," and Kylis and Miah,
the two blacks, could have told a terrible story had they chosen. The
schooner was lost a few months after Amos Hooker secured her, and it was
probably as well for him that such was the case.

He approached the men cautiously, and in a few words explained what was
required of them. They spoke fairly good pigeon English, and it will be
more understandable if properly translated.

"We are to go to sea in the schooners?" said Kylis, a curious name,
which in some parts takes the place of boomerang.

"Yes, and you will have a good trip. There is plenty to eat and drink on
board, and you will be well paid."

"We go as divers?" asked Miah.

"That is so; you are both clever at it."

"Are you going?" asked Kylis.

"No, of course not."

"I thought perhaps you might be in want of another schooner," grinned
the black.

Amos cursed him, and bade him keep a guard on his tongue.

"We are to do something for you?" asked Miah, who knew very well "the
boss" had some game of his own to play.

"You can help me and yourselves as well," he said. "These schooners are
going north to some bay Jacob Rank discovered, and where he says there
are many shells. This may be true, or it may not; in any case it matters
very little to you, for you will be paid. If they find much shell there
will be good pearls, and good pearls are rare, Kylis. I like good
pearls."

The black showed his teeth in a broad grin; then he opened his mouth
wide, showing a huge cavity. He closed it with a snap, made a show of
swallowing something, and then rubbed his stomach.

"Quite so," said Amos. "You have swallowed pearls before, and can do it
again, but on this trip you will have to adopt some other method of
hiding them."

Miah grunted curiously, and then said--

"We can hide pearls, you can be sure of that."

"If they find you out you will have a bad time, so you had better be
careful," said Amos. "Anyway, I suppose you will go?"

They both assented, and he said--

"If you find good pearls and bring them to me, I can get a price for
them. You cannot do so, therefore it will be to your interests to hand
them over to me."

They nodded, and understood perfectly well what he required of them.
There were many ways of hiding pearls on a schooner, and expert divers
had but little difficulty in concealing them.

The pearl fishing in Shark's Bay proved so unsatisfactory that Phil
Danks strongly advised a move to the north-west.

"Hooker was about right," he said. "The place is worked out; we shall
have no luck here, and it is a waste of time."

It was eventually decided, after a consultation, to clear out of Shark's
Bay and make tracks for Jacob Rank's bay, where they hoped to find him,
and many pearls as well.

This decision was communicated to Amos Hooker, who made it an excuse for
not getting more than two divers to go with them.

"They are splendid fellows," he said, "you'll not find two better
anywhere. Of course, they require watching, most of them do, but they
work well, and are on the whole honest."

He brought Kylis and Miah on board the "Heron," and Phil Danks liked the
look of them, but was curious as to how they came to be at Shark's Bay
with Hooker. He knew very well they were natives, who had seen a good
deal of travelling, and was surprised at their knowledge of English.

Amos, in answer to his inquiries, gave a plausible account of how he
came to find them, but did not state they were on the "Mary Hatchett"
with him.

Terms were fixed, and the two men sailed on the "Heron." Amos Hooker, as
he watched the schooners leave the bay, wondered what would be the
result of the trip. If there was a rich haul he had no doubt he would
come in for a share.

The position of Rank's Bay, as Phil Danks named it, was unknown to them,
but they were determined to find it, and when such men as these skippers
make up their minds to do a thing they generally succeed.

A week after leaving Shark's Bay they came across the entrance to what
looked like a good sized harbour. On either side trees were growing, and
it was an inviting place, providing the passage was safe. Phil Danks
sent out a boat to take soundings, and on their return the man in charge
reported there was plenty of water, but that the bottom was rocky and
covered with coral. His opinion was that a big coral reef existed all
along the coast, which at low tide would be dangerous.

Phil Danks agreed with him, and thought it would be the best plan to
anchor outside the heads, and explore the bay in small boats.

Accordingly, the two skippers, with Jack and Harry, and half a dozen
men, rowed towards the opening.

The sea was as clear as crystal, and at the bottom Jack Redland saw a
sight that astonished him. The boat seemed to be gliding over the jagged
tops of some great mountain range. They were rowing over a coral reef,
and the splendour of the huge masses of grotesque shapes was dazzling.
The movement of the water caused the most beautiful reflections, and
almost every shade of rainbow hues was to be seen. Gorgeously coloured
sea anemones clustered on the white coral, and strangely coloured fish
darted in and out of their hiding places.

"What a wonderful sight!" said Jack.

"Yes, it's not a bad entrance, and there seems to be plenty of
vegetation," said Phil.

"I was alluding to the coral bed," replied Jack.

Phil Danks smiled as he replied--

"It is new to you, of course. I am not partial to coral reefs. I see the
danger in them--not the beauty. If you were dashed on to one in a gale
you would have a different opinion of them."

"I suppose they are dangerous," replied Jack.

"Yes, and treacherous. They tear the bottom out of a boat before you
know where you are."

They passed safely through the narrow opening, and there burst upon them
a strange sight. They were in a small bay, and round it were large trees
sweeping down almost to the edge of the water. There was no sign of
life, and yet the place seemed so home-like they could hardly believe it
to be desolate.

"I have been up this coast a few times," said Hake Moss, "and never
struck this place before. Have you, Phil?"

"Never," answered Danks, "and it's worth exploring. I vote we land over
yonder and see what sort of a country it is."

He pointed across the bay to where the white beach shimmered in the
blazing sunlight, and the trees drooped in graceful folds over it.

"There may be natives here," said Moss. "We must be cautious; they are
treacherous beggars, especially when they have not seen much of white
men."

They had their guns with them, and Phil, pointing to them, said, "We can
easily frighten them off with a few shots."

"We must all keep together, at any rate," replied Moss. "The danger
arises when there is any separation. I'll never forget in one of the
South Sea Islands when I strolled away into the bush by myself. I had
not been half an hour alone before I was surrounded by yelling savages.
I made a bolt for it, but it was more by good luck than anything else I
got back to the boat with nothing worse than a couple of spear wounds."

"This is different to the South Seas," said Phil; "but as you say, it is
well to be cautious, for there is no telling what may happen. This
cannot be Rank's Bay; there's no pearl shell in here."

"I wonder if we shall find the place," said Jack.

"We will find it if it is to be found," answered Phil, as the boat
grated on the sand, and he sprang out, gun in hand. The others followed,
and leaving a man in charge with instructions to keep a sharp look out,
they walked up the sloping bank under the trees.

"There's a path here," said Moss, "and that's a sure sign natives hang
about the place."

Jack Redland was looking across the bay, thinking what a glorious sight
it was, when the sand on the opposite side seemed to be alive with a
moving mass of living creatures. He gave an exclamation of surprise, and
the others turned round to ascertain the cause.

"Look!" said Jack, pointing across. "What are those black masses moving
about on the beach?"

"By jove, they are turtles!" exclaimed Moss. "We must get hold of some
of them before we go back to the schooner. They are splendid eating and
no doubt we shall find any amount of eggs."

Jack had tried turtle soup, and seen an occasional one in a London shop,
but here was a swarm that fairly astonished him.

"Shall we follow the path or try for the turtle?" asked Moss.

"Turtle, by all means," laughed Jack.

"I'm rather curious about that path," was the reply.

"Hang the path! I agree with Mr. Redland. Let us go for the turtle,"
said Phil, as he walked towards the boat.

They followed him, and were sauntering leisurely down when a strange
whirring, hissing sound was heard, and a shower of spears fell all round
them. This was followed by loud cries, and savage yells, and a crashing
in the bush behind them.

"Run for it!" yelled Moss, and they raced down the beach for the boat.




CHAPTER ELEVENTH

_TURNING TURTLE AND AFTER_


They had barely time to scramble into the boats and pull out into the
bay before the savages dashed down to the edge of the beach waving their
spears frantically. Some, more venturesome than others, plunged into the
water and swam swiftly after the boats. There must have been at least a
hundred, and a fierce looking lot they were. The men pulled hard and the
boats were soon out of range of the spears, but it was a narrow escape.

"Let them have a dose of shot," said Moss.

Phil Danks levelled his gun at one of the swimmers and was about to
fire, when Jack said, "Don't hit him, aim over his head, the noise will
frighten them and it is time enough to kill when we are in danger."

"As you like," replied Phil, laughing, "but an odd nigger or two makes
but little difference, and it would teach them not to interfere with
white men in future."

He fired the gun, and the sound had a marvellous effect upon the blacks.
Some of them dropped down on their knees on the beach, others turned and
fled into the bush; as for the swimmer Phil had intended hitting, he
dived and did not come up until he reached shallow water, when he
scrambled out and ran after the others.

"It's strange they have never heard a gun fire before, this harbour is
evidently unknown; we have discovered something during our trip, at any
rate; I think we'll call it Redland Bay," said Phil.

Jack laughed, he thought it would be something to boast of on his return
to England if a newly discovered harbour was named after him.

The blacks were evidently thoroughly frightened for they saw no more of
them.

"It seems curious, they have no boats," said Hake Moss, "they can never
have been out to sea. I expect always go round the place on land."

"They have canoes hidden somewhere, depend upon it," replied Phil.
"There's plenty of fish here and they are generally clever fishermen."

The boats reached the farther side of the bay, and they spent a lively
hour or two turning turtle. The huge ungainly creatures seemed to be too
lazy to move, and their weight was enormous. Phil Danks said it was
quite unusual to see them on the beach in the day time as they generally
crawled out of the water at night. It was evidently a favourite breeding
place, for the females were there in abundance, and thousands of eggs
were to be found.

"The male turtle has more sense," said Phil, "I have never seen one out
of the water."

To Jack Redland and his friend, the turning of turtle was a novel
experience. Some of them were so heavy that it took their united efforts
to throw them on their backs, and once in that position they were
helpless. The silvery sand was soon covered with turned turtle, about
fifty of them being at the mercy of their captors.

"What are we to do with the beggars?" asked Jack. "We cannot take the
lot on board, it would swamp the boats."

"We will take as many as we require, and turn the remainder over again,
if they are left on their backs, they will never get on their feet
again, and will rot in the sun. Hundreds of them are destroyed in this
way by natives and divers who seem to do it out of pure devilment."

"What a shame," said Harry Marton. "I say, Jack, some of our city
aldermen would smack their lips over this sight."

"Yes, turtle is cheap enough here, whatever it may be in London," he
replied laughing.

"See this fellow," said Danks, kicking one with his boot. "It's what
they call a hawk bill, they are not fit to eat, but tortoise-shell is
obtained from them and that makes them valuable. The others are green
turtle. They are all right."

"How much do you think this one weighs?" asked Jack, pointing to a
larger one than most of the others.

"It will not be far off three hundred pounds weight," answered Phil.

Jack gasped in astonishment, he had no idea they were so heavy.

"The bulk of them average at least a couple of hundred pounds I should
say," remarked Hake Moss.

It was no easy matter to get them into the boats, but they succeeded
after some difficulty, and the dinghies were almost level with the
water.

"We had better put all the turtle in one dinghy and tow her back," said
Jack.

"A good idea, we will," replied Phil, and they set to work again until
the boat was filled, they then turned the other turtles over, and were
about to row back to the schooners, when a screeching attracted their
attention and they saw large flocks of birds hovering about the tops of
the rocks.

"Melton birds and gulls," said Phil, "we may as well have some fresh
eggs now we are about it; I reckon there'll be enough to satisfy a whole
fleet over there," and he pointed to a long stretch of sand in which
hundreds of them were settling.

It was a curious sight to see these thousands of birds on the sands, and
they did not appear to be at all frightened of the visitors to their
haunt. They got out of the dinghies again and walked towards them. On
their approach a few of the birds rose and whirled around, uttering
hoarse cries. But the greater number remained still on their nests, or
walked slowly about amongst the stones.

Jack was amused at them, and as he walked, he had frequently to push
them out of the way with his foot.

There were thousands of eggs, and they filled two large sacks with them,
choosing those which were apparently freshly laid. It was not difficult
to tell them as they were perfectly clean, and had a peculiar sticky
feel, quite unlike the eggs that had been sat upon.

"Are the birds fit to eat?" asked Jack.

"Melton birds are not bad, the others are no good, a man must be fairly
on the verge of starvation to tackle them," replied Moss.

"There does not appear to be much fear of starving here," laughed Jack.

"Perhaps not, but the diet would soon become monotonous," replied Harry.

It was time to return to the schooners, as they had been absent all day,
and it was not advisable to leave them for a longtime. It was tedious
work running out of the bay, and rather dangerous, as the tide was much
lower and here and there sharp pieces of coral stood out of the water.
Had one of the boats struck on such a projection it would have speedily
ripped open the bottom, or the side.

Phil Danks, however, was a careful steerer and navigated them into the
open sea, the dinghy in tow having one or two narrow escapes.

When the blacks saw the boat load of turtle, they gave vent to their joy
and danced about the deck.

"You'll see how they gorge themselves to-night," said Phil, "it is
enough to make a man cry off turtle for ever to watch them."

"Then I propose we leave them to it," said Jack. "I do not want to spoil
my appetite."

The cargo was hauled on board, and the schooners were soon under weigh,
Harry Marton remaining on the "Heron" for the night.

There was very little breeze, and the movement was scarcely perceptible.
It was a glorious night, the sun shining on the water and illuminating
the coast line. The air was pure and cool, and as Jack Redland sat alone
at the stern of the schooner, his thoughts commenced to wander to a far
different scene thousands of miles away.

He wondered what Sir Lester and Winifred were doing, and what she would
have thought of such an experience as he had just gone through. What a
contrast it all was to the beautiful Sussex landscape over which he had
so often looked from The Downs. Here he was on a pearling schooner,
nearing the northernmost point of Australia, and yet his mind was very
far away, and his memory lingered over the sights and sounds of
Brighton, and the hum of the racecourse. Certainly he was dozing, yet he
was half awake; he knew he was smoking, and that the wreaths from his
pipe were curling away in the wake of the schooner, and yet he fancied
he scented the smell of new mown hay, and in a dim sort of light saw
banks covered with primroses and hedgerows budding green, the trees
opening out their leaves, the birds nesting, others teaching their young
to fly. It mattered not that primroses and new mown hay did not
harmonise, it was what he felt and saw, jumbled together in a delightful
tangle from which he made no effort to extricate himself.

Now he was on Lewes racecourse and felt the wind whistle past his face,
and buzz in his ears, as he made a desperate effort to land Topsy Turvy
first past the post. He heard the shouts of the crowd, the roar of the
excited backers, and then the next moment he knew he had won, and Sir
Lester was congratulating him, and better than all, Winifred was there,
all smiles. He heard Job Seagrave's sonorous voice, and smiled in his
half awake land of dreams.

He was sitting down on a primrose bank and a gypsy stood looking at him.
He held out his hand and she read his fate, he was to claim his own at
last. He saw a fair young girl with arms outstretched pleading for him
to stay and not venture forth upon his mad quest. He felt her warm form
as he pressed her to him, snatched a kiss, and hurried away.

His pipe dropped, and the noise startled him from his reverie. He sat up
and looked around wonderingly, hardly realising his whereabouts. A
moment ago he was in Sussex, now he was in reality coasting in
North-West Australia, and the little schooner was making good headway.

It had been a pleasant enchantment while it lasted; we should be very
lonely, very dissatisfied with the ordinary duties of life if we had no
dreams.

He looked round and smiled as he saw Harry Marton and Phil Danks fast
asleep in their comfortable chairs. Let them sleep on, he was contented
with his little romance, he would go through it all over again now he
was wide awake.

What if this pearling venture turned out a failure? It was merely a
start, the first step on the voyage to wealth and Winifred. If it was
not a success he would lose nothing, except time, and that was precious;
he could not ask her to wait too long, he had not asked her at all, at
least not in words. He must hustle, as an American friend told him, if
he meant to get ahead of his fellow men. He smiled as he thought it
would be a difficult job to make Phil Danks hustle, the skipper of the
"Heron" was a man who made time his slave, not his master, and he looked
contented on it.

Pearls; he would at any rate secure some for Winifred even if he had
none for himself. He remembered she was fond of pearls, and had a very
old chain of them left her by her grandmother. If he had his will the
depths of the sea should give up pearls of great price for her
gratification, and he would send her them as a token he had not
forgotten her. That was a good idea, the first fine pearls he had as his
share of the venture should be sent direct to her. Would it look like
bribery, a gift to induce her to wait for him, and not regard offers
from others with favour? He thought not, she would understand her old
playmate wished to prove he was loyal, and would be glad he remembered
she loved pearls.

But the pearls were as yet at the bottom of the sea, and he was on the
schooner, and they were dawdling along at a very slow pace, quite in
keeping with their aldermanic repast on Redland Bay turtle. If he did
nothing else the name of that bay would abide for ever as a memory of
his trip to the land of chances and dashed hopes.

There was the Great Tom mine, he wondered how that had turned out. Sir
Lester's five hundred was sunk in it, he hoped it would bring him luck.
Supposing the shares went up to two pounds, that would be a thousand,
and he had heard that a great financier once said any man ought to be
able to make a fortune with a capital of a thousand pounds. Then he
suddenly recollected that same financier, who had made millions, came to
a terrible end, the only way out of his trouble being death by his own
hand. It was not an alluring prospect after all, this amassing of
wealth, there must be something a good deal better in the world. He
concluded a modest income with an abundance of domestic happiness would
be more to his taste.

The Great Tom mine share might go up to three pounds, even four or five.

He commenced to reckon up what he would do with his money when he had
sold out for five times the amount he had invested. He'd ask Barry
Tuxford's advice, it was he who made the money for him, and it was only
natural he should give him a wrinkle what to do with it. Then he
remembered he and Harry Marton were to go halves; it was his own
suggestion and he would stick to it, but if he made a fortune and Harry
failed it would be rather rough on the lucky one. He laughed to himself
as he pictured Harry Marton's dismay when he handed him over half his
wealth, which he did not yet possess. Harry would refuse to take it, and
there must be a compromise, but he was determined if he was successful
his friend should also be a gainer.

The "Heron" sailed on in sight of the "Wild Cat," and Jack Redland,
young and active, was full of hope and eager anticipation. The search
for fortune is more enchanting, more enthralling, than the actual
realisation, which, however successful it may prove is always
insufficient to stave off the craving for more.




CHAPTER TWELFTH

_JACOB'S YARN_


"I shall be glad when we have done messing about here and set to work.
We look like making a long trip; at this rate, we shall not be back at
Fremantle under a twelve month," grumbled Phil.

"I'm tired of doing nothing," replied Jack, "and this is a slow way of
making a fortune. We ought to be somewhere near the place by now."

"We may have slipped past it," replied Phil.

"And have to return," said Jack in dismay. "That will be shocking bad
luck."

Another three days passed, and they seemed as far off their journey's
end as ever, until next morning one of the men shouted out that there
was a signal on a promontory jutting out into the sea.

They rushed to the fore part of the schooner, and looked eagerly at the
spot. The man was right; there was a long pole with something waving at
the top, evidently a signal to passing vessels.

"It may be a very old one," said Phil.

"Perhaps it is Jacob Rank's signal," replied Jack.

"Let us hope so; anyway, we will make for it. I wonder if they have seen
it on board the 'Wild Cat?'"

The other schooner was some distance behind, and as Jack looked through
his glasses he saw no sign of excitement on board.

"I do not think they have," he said, "but in any case they will follow
in our track."

The "Heron" headed for the rock on which the signal was fixed, and as
they drew near it they saw it was a projection of one side of the heads
of a bay.

Their spirits rose, and Phil said--

"It's Jacob's Bay, I'll wager. It answers the description exactly. Look
there; the rock jutting out bare and jagged, the other side of the
channel wooded and sloping gradually down. The entrance narrow, the
scene from the ocean exactly as he described it. Here we are at last,
boys. Give a rousing cheer; let off a few guns, and if Rank is alive
that will bring him out of his shell."

They cheered lustily, and Jack discharged the gun several times.

Harry Marton on the "Wild Cat" asked Moss the meaning of the commotion,
and he replied "They must have found the place at last, and glad I am of
it. We have had a long journey for nothing so far."

The "Heron" sailed steadily towards the entrance and as she passed the
promontory they saw the flag at the top of the staff was made of an old
shirt, or some such garment.

"It cannot have been there very long," said Phil, eyeing it through the
glasses. "It has only recently been put up, so the probabilities are the
man is alive."

The bay they entered was much larger than the former one, almost the
size of Shark's Bay, and Phil expressed the opinion that it was a good
place for pearl fishing.

Rounding the corner they saw a man who was on the look out, and he waved
his arms furiously and danced about in great glee.

The schooner steered closer to the shore, and at last there came a loud
shout from the solitary human being.

"By all that's wonderful, it's Jacob Rank," said Phil, and he waved back
to him. "Let go the anchor, we'll row ashore," he said, excitedly.

A dinghy was soon in the water, and they scrambled in. In a very short
time they were on the sand, and Phil was wringing Jacob's hand until
there seemed to be a good chance of their arms coming off.

The excitement was too much for Rank, who sat down on the beach and
almost wept for joy. When he became calmer he said--

"What in heaven's name brought you here, Phil?"

"The 'Heron,' and we were sent by Barry Tuxford. We have another
schooner, the 'Wild Cat,' see, she is just entering the heads."

"And who is this young man?"

"Mr. Redland. He is in the venture with Harry Marton, who is on that
schooner, and we are all in it with Barry."

"Then he did not believe I was dead?"

"No. The beggars said you were drowned, when they reached Fremantle, and
that there was no pearl shell to be found, but Barry didn't cotton to
that yarn, so he organised another expedition to find you and your boy,
and here we are."

"And a precious long while you have been, it seems years since those
scoundrels put me ashore here, but I'll get even with them one of these
days."

The "Wild Cat" cast anchor close to the "Heron," and Harry and Hake Moss
came ashore and heartily greeted Rank.

"I'll tell you what it is, before we get on to business, or anything
else, I should like to go on board and have a decent meal. I have not
starved here, but living on turtle, birds, and eggs, is a bit too much
for me. I'd give anything for a decent bit of bread and something to
wash it down," said Rank.

"Of course," quickly replied Jack. "Here we are standing talking and
never thinking about you. Come along, we will row back at once."

Jacob eagerly got into the boat, and when he put his foot on board the
"Heron" he gave a sigh of relief.

"To a man who has been stranded for weeks you have no idea how it feels
to find yourself on a decent craft again. I have no ambition to be a
second Crusoe."

Jacob enjoyed himself thoroughly, and they gave him of the best their
stores could provide.

In the evening they were all anxious to hear how he came to be left in
the bay, and what prospect there was of finding shells.

They sat round Jacob, who was nothing loath to satisfy their curiosity.

"It's a long story, but I'll cut it as short as possible," he said. "To
begin at the beginning, when Barry Tuxford fitted me out for this job I
rather fancy he had doubts as to whether I was 'kidding' him."

"You are mistaken," said Jack. "I can assure you he had, and still has,
every confidence in you. I will tell you later on what he instructed us
to do if we found you alive."

"I am glad to hear it," said Jacob. "It was a risky job for him to
tackle, but he has plenty of pluck, and I told him the truth when I said
I knew of a bay for pearl fishing that was equal to Shark's Bay in its
best days. Of course he had only my bare word for it, but he's not like
other men, and he generally reckons things up pretty correct.

"I got together what I thought was a decent crew, but a bigger set of
scoundrels never set foot in a schooner. They were loafers, every man
jack of them, and had come out with the intention of having a pleasure
trip. When we reached here I saw there was trouble brewing, but I didn't
think they would go as far as to leave me in the lurch. I could do
nothing against the lot of them, and they put me ashore and left me to
my fate, curse them. They said if the bay was full of pearl shell I
might have the lot, it would be a fine fortune for me. The divers would
have stuck to me, but they frightened the poor devils into submission,
and the Lord knows what they did with them, put them ashore somewhere, I
expect.

"I was mad with rage when I saw the schooner sail away, but I made up my
mind to live through it if possible. I had an idea Barry Tuxford would
not let the matter rest. If the schooner did not return he would send
out to search for her, if she returned without me, and the crew
concocted some cock and bull story, I doubted if he would believe them.
It seems I was correct.

"For the first week or two I felt desperate. The loneliness oppressed
me, I thought I should go mad. I walked for miles, shouting at the top
my voice until I was exhausted. I meant making someone hear, even if it
turned out to be savages. I believe in those days I would willingly have
walked into the midst of a cannibal camp and taken my chance. Not a soul
did I see, black or white, nor have I seen anyone until you came here."

"We saw the signal," said Phil. "I wonder no passing schooner observed
it before."

"There are very few boats come in close enough for that," said Jacob.
"This is a lonely, almost unknown part of the coast, and it is dangerous
in rough weather. That signal pole was blown down a dozen times, I
think, and I only fixed it up again a couple of days ago. It is lucky
for me you saw it, lucky for all of you, too, as I will tell you.

"I found out this place once when I had been cruising around King's
Sound, Roebuck Bay, and such like places. We happened on it quite
accidentally. I was keeping a sharp look out and noticed the promontory
at the far side of the channel. I had never sailed so near the coast
before in these parts, and it struck me there might be a large bay
beyond. The crew thought I had taken leave of my senses when I steered
for the rock, but they had faith in me and had sailed with me several
times. They were surprised to find such a bay as this, but they little
knew my object in entering it. In the old days, at Cossack, I had heard
an old pearler speak of a wonderful bay where there was heaps of shell
that had never been touched. He described the place to me and I asked
him why he had not tried it himself. He said he was too old, that he had
sufficient to live on, and did not mean to worry about anything. He told
me if ever I was near the northern part of Australia to try and find it,
and gave me to understand it was north-west of Western Australia. When I
saw the big rock at the entrance to the bay I recollected what he had
said.

"I am an expert diver myself and have remained down below almost as long
as the best of the Malays. At night I cautiously went down in the bay
and felt about. There were hundreds of shells, big and little, and I
felt certain I had struck a fortune if properly handled. I had to be
very careful, as I did not wish the crew to know what I was after. I
gave them a rest, and they all went ashore to have some sport, and find
turtle. When I was alone, I lost no time in going down again, and groped
about the bottom until I found some shells. With these I came up to the
surface, almost exhausted, but I managed to get on board. I got a large
butcher's knife and opened the first shell, and eagerly examined it for
pearls. There was nothing in, but the pearl shell was excellent. In the
next I had better luck, for I found two good sized pearls of rich
colour, they were loose in the shell, and rolled out when I opened it,
which does not often happen.

"I waited until I recovered my strength, and went down again. I brought
up two more, in one of them was a big blister, and in it I found a pearl
I afterwards sold in Fremantle for over fifty pounds. I knew I had
struck it rich, and that if I had the capital there was a heap of money
to be made. Since I have been stranded here I have tried various parts
of the bay, and I give it you, as my candid opinion, that there is no
pearl fishery on the coast to be compared to it. The whole bay is, I
think, covered with shells, and I have very little doubt many pearls of
great value will be found there. I know where the best spots are, for I
have been swimming about and diving all over the place. I can assure
you, Barry Tuxford and all of you will be well satisfied with the
result."

Jack Redland's heart beat high with hope as he listened to Jacob Rank's
story, and even Phil Danks and Hake Moss, who were accustomed to hearing
far fetched yarns, knew that Jacob did not speak without the book, or
talk at random.

Jack was the first to speak, and thanked Jacob for his interesting
story. He then told him that Barry Tuxford had empowered them to give
him his fair share in whatever they might find, and that he was to tell
him he need have no fear on that head.

"You must work in with us," said Jack, "and I am perfectly certain you
will be satisfied."

"Barry Tuxford's word is always reliable," said Jacob. "He has faith in
me, and I have faith in him. How many divers have you?"

"Twenty," replied Jack.

"We ought to have more. The best plan will be, however, to do the best
we can with them, and not send one of the schooners to look for more. If
we do that we shall lose time, and sufficient has been wasted already."

"I quite agree with you," said Jack, "we must get to work at once."

"Where do you hail from?" asked Jacob.

"England, have you been there?"

"No, but my father was a fisherman at Brighton, before he came out to
Western Australia, many years ago."

"Brighton!" exclaimed Jack. "That is strange. I was living at Brighton
when I made up my mind to try my fortunes out here. I know Sussex well,
and my best friends live in that county."

"It's marvellous," said Jacob. "Here we are in an unknown spot on the
coast of Australia, and we both hail from the same place. Give me your
hand, sir, we'll shake on it, and on the success of this trip."

"With all my heart," said Jack, and amidst general hilarity they clasped
hands.




CHAPTER THIRTEENTH

_THE DIVERS AT WORK_


It was arranged that Jacob Rank should have charge of the divers and
superintend their work, as he knew more about it than any of the others.
Accordingly the men were mustered on the "Heron" and he inspected them.
When he came to Kylis and Miah, the two blacks from Shark's Bay, he
looked keenly at them, but they bore the scrutiny well, although they
knew Jacob, and had seen him at the Bay.

"What do you think of them?" asked Jack. "Will they do?"

"We shall have to make the best of them," said Jacob. "I prefer Malays,
but I have no doubt we can get along with these fellows. Where did you
pick the two big men up, they seem in a different class to the others?"

"When we put into Shark's Bay, there seemed some likelihood of trouble
arising with the fishermen there, and Phil Danks tried to square matters
with Amos Hooker."

"Amos Hooker!" exclaimed Rank, "he is a bad lot."

"That is probable, anyway he pacified the men and we tried the bay, but
Phil said it was no good our stopping there, as it was about worked
out."

"So it is, he's quite right."

"We asked Hooker if he could get us any good divers, and he said it was
possible, and he would do his best. As we decided to leave earlier than
was expected, he said he could only provide us with two, and they are
the men you alluded to," said Jack.

"Amos Hooker supplied them," said Jacob. "I thought I had seen them
before, it must have been at Shark's Bay. I wonder why he sent them on
board. For some purpose of his own, no doubt, probably to spy out the
land. I'll keep a strict watch on them, and if they show any signs of
insubordination, they'll get left like I was."

"Manage them in your own way, I leave it entirely in your hands,"
replied Jack.

Early next morning four dinghies, with five divers in each, in charge of
Jacob, the two skippers, and Jack Redland were rowed to a spot indicated
by Rank, about half way across the bay.

Jack was eager to see how the divers accomplished their work. Rank had
the two men from Shark's Bay, and three others in his dinghy, and his
lot were the first to go down. The divers stood on the gunwale of the
boats, dropped into the water feet foremost, then turned and swam to the
bottom.

Jack's dinghy was some distance away, and the five divers in his boat
waited for his orders. He pointed to the other dinghies, and by signs
indicated they should go down at once. One by one they disappeared
overboard, and he watched them swim down until they were out of sight.
He wondered how long they would remain down, and when they would come
up. He rowed the dinghy about, and waited. They seemed an incredibly
long time under water, and he became uneasy, he did not know the length
of time some of these divers remained below.

At last a head bobbed up close to the boat, and a hand grasped the
gunwale. Four more heads appeared almost immediately, and Jack rowed the
boat to them. Each man had shells which he dropped into the dinghy, and
then drew himself out of the water.

After resting for a few minutes, they went down again, and this diving
was repeated throughout the day until the dinghies contained a large
quantity of shells.

At a given signal from Jacob Rank, they rowed back to the ship, and Jack
was rather surprised the divers seemed none the worse for their
exertion.

The shells were handed on board and piled up ready for opening, and then
Harry Marton, who had remained on the "Heron," reported supper was
ready. There was a general rush, as they were all very hungry after the
day's fast, for it was useless to take any food in the dinghies, as it
would have been spoilt with the constant wet from the divers bodies, and
also the shells.

Jacob Rank was quite satisfied with the day's work as he looked at the
pile of shells on board the "Heron." They had only twenty divers and it
was evident they had seldom come up empty handed, or the heaps would not
have been so large.

"We'll start at opening them first thing in the morning," said Jacob.
"You must all take a hand in it, we never allow the divers to open the
shells."

"I fear I shall make a mess of it," said Jack.

"You will soon get into it," replied Jacob. "It's just like opening a
large oyster."

"And how do you find the pearls?" asked Jack.

"You'll soon find a pearl if there is one in the shell," replied Jacob.
"Sometimes they are loose, not often, again you may find them in big
blisters, but, as a rule, you can see them embedded in the shell, where
they look like pimples on the surface. You must keep an exact account of
all we find, so that a proper division can be made."

"My friend, Harry Marton, will attend to that," said Jack, "it is more
in his line."

"It matters very little who does it as long as it is done," replied
Jacob.

They were all tired out with the day's work, and slept soundly until
aroused by Jacob Rank. Each man was provided with a large knife, and
Jack admired the dexterity with which Jacob severed the muscle of the
mollusc when the shell opened, and with the rapidity of a London oyster
opener, he sliced the fish out of the shell. This being done, the next
thing was to look for pearls.

Jack Redland was clumsy at first, but quickly got into the way of
opening and cleaning the shells, and he felt a strange thrill of
excitement as he looked for his first pearl.

It was an old worm eaten encrusted shell he held in his hand, and in it
he saw a blister about the size of a penny piece. He was about to smash
it when Jacob called out--

"Don't do that; if there is a pearl inside you'll damage it, perhaps
crush it to bits. Leave the shell on one side and try another. I will
show you how to tap a blister later on."

Jack placed it on one side and forced open another shell, it took him
some considerable time, and when his knife slipped, the gaping shell
closed sharply and nearly caught his fingers. He forced it again and cut
out the fish, as he did so a pearl, the size of a pea, dropped out and
he picked it up, at the same time expressing his feelings in a joyful
exclamation. The others looked up, and he held it out to Jacob, who
examined it carefully.

"Straw coloured," he said, "there are plenty of them, but this is well
shaped, it is not a bad pearl at all, I daresay it would bring a
tenner."

"A little thing like that!" said Jack.

"Yes, and if it was perfect and a better colour it would be worth a lot
more. Try again," said Jacob, as he handed the pearl back to him.

There were pearls of different sizes in nearly every shell, and Phil
Danks knew Jacob Rank was not far out when he proclaimed this bay the
richest pearl fishery in Australia. Danks had opened hundreds of shells
in his time, but he had never seen such beautiful mother of pearl, or so
many seeds in the same number of shells.

They continued opening until the last lot was finished, and as Jacob
looked at the shell and the pearls, he said, "That's a good day's work
for a start, but we shall find a few gems before we have done. Did you
ever see richer shell, or a larger number of pearls out of such a take,
Phil?"

"No," replied Danks. "I call it marvellous."

Jack Redland was astonished. On the deck lay a pile of glittering shell,
dazzling almost to blinding in the sunlight, it recalled to mind a
glimpse of a fairy grotto he had once seen in a pantomime. Jacob threw a
bucket of water over the heap and the shells reflected a myriad of
sparkling lights which danced and flickered in a bewildering manner.
From this sight, Jack turned to the small bowl of pearls, and commenced
to speculate how many they would get before they cleared out of the bay.

The shells and the pearls were carefully stored, and work commenced
again for the day. Harry Marton remained in charge of the schooners,
which were anchored alongside, and had with him the cooks and the cabin
boys, all the others being left in the dinghies.

They returned at night with a better take than before, and many of the
shells were of a considerable age, as could be seen by the encrustations
upon the outer surface.

Jacob Rank had so far no cause to complain of Kylis and Miah. They were
the best divers out of the lot and always came back with shells. They
worked hard, and yet there was something about them he could not quite
understand. He noticed they were always together, and kept apart from
the other divers, as though considering themselves superior. He kept his
thoughts to himself, but he fancied he saw some trouble brewing,
although he could not define in what direction.

The day had been very hot, and the white men who had sat in the boats
under the blazing sun, were tired out.

Kylis and Miah, however, were wide awake, and seated in earnest
conversation at the stern of the schooner.

"This is the richest pearl fishing I ever saw," said Kylis, speaking in
his native tongue.

"The whole bay is covered with shell," replied Miah. "It does not seem
fair these white men should have it all."

"They will not have it all," said Kylis, with an ugly gleam in his eyes.
"You know where they keep the pearls."

Miah shook his head and said they would not be easy to get at.

"There is nothing of great value yet," replied Kylis. "Wait until there
is a big pearl, then we must have it."

"How? It will be dangerous."

"Leave it to me," said Kylis.

Miah looked at him, half afraid, he recollected something had been left
to Kylis before, and when that something had been accomplished there was
one white man less in the world. Miah was a thief, and no coward, but he
hated the sight of blood; he was afraid of Kylis because he knew he
would stick at nothing to gain his ends.

Kylis was a half civilised black, which made him doubly dangerous, and
he was maturing a plan by which he hoped to get possession of any pearls
of value before they put into Shark's Bay on the return voyage. He knew
Jacob Rank mistrusted him, and also Miah, and hated him accordingly. He
meant to be wary and bide his time, but he was determined to carry out
the orders of Amos Hooker in some way or other. His keen eyes noted
every movement in the schooner, and he had seen Harry Marton hide the
first lot of pearls in the cabin of the "Heron." He had no business in
that part of the schooner at all, and had he been seen the punishment
would have been swift and sure. He crawled along the deck like a snake,
and no one saw him as he watched Harry Marton secrete the pearls. He had
not told Miah he knew where they were kept. More valuable pearls might
be stored in another place, but as he had discovered one he could, he
fancied, easily discover another. He had no intention of making any move
until the schooners were on their way back, and if the pearls were on
the "Heron" and he was put on the "Wild Cat," he meant to devise some
means of changing into the other boat. Meanwhile he meant to work hard
to divert any suspicion that might lurk in Jacob Rank's mind, and he
ordered Miah to do the same.

The second lot of shells turned out even more profitable than the first,
and everyone was delighted at their good fortune. Jack Redland was
anxious to secure a pearl that would be worth sending to Winifred. He
wished for something out of the common, and he hoped to find it himself
so that he might tell her so. He was sure Barry Tuxford and the others
would agree to let him have such a pearl if he gave equal value for it.

They toiled hard every day, and the shells and pearls accumulated fast.
Even now they had a rich cargo to take back, but they were not
satisfied. Jacob Rank had no intention of returning until he had struck
the richest patch. He knew that in such a place there must be pearls of
immense value, because the whole bed of the bay was covered with shells,
which had never been disturbed before, and for years they had been
hidden, unknown, unsought, until at last he had chanced to hit upon
them.




CHAPTER FOURTEENTH

_THE BLACK PEARL_


Jack Redland was on the deck of the "Heron" opening shells. He was
alone, the others had left him to finish the work, and gone off in the
dinghies. He saw them in the distance, and watched the divers
disappearing into the depths of the bay. Resting for a few minutes his
eyes roamed over the beautiful scene spread out around him. In this land
locked harbour everything seemed at peace, undisturbed by the dwellings
of men, as it probably had been for ages upon ages. Their schooners were
probably the first to enter, yet it was strange such a place had not
been discovered before. The hills round the bay were well wooded, trees
growing almost from base to summit, and the white silvery sand sparkled
in the brilliant sunlight. It was hot, and yet there was sufficient
breeze to render it pleasant. There was hardly a ripple on the clear
water of the bay and the sky was dazzlingly blue. He saw very few signs
of bird life, but the big black dots on the beach he knew were turtle,
and he saw the males splashing about in the water. Fortunately there
were no sharks in the bay, at least they had seen none, nor had Jacob
Rank during his enforced stay there. The divers were, therefore, quite
safe from these monsters, which sometimes cause shocking havoc amongst
them.

Jack settled down to work again, opening the large shells with
considerable dexterity, and noticing how carefully the pearls were
hidden. Out of curiosity, he scraped the inner coating of one of the
larger shells and found layer upon layer of nacre, or mother of pearl,
which crumbled away from the knife. It seemed as though the mollusc had
deposited these layers one after another to protect itself from attacks,
and as there were no signs of even the smallest seeds beneath the outer
layer, he came to the conclusion the pearls must be a kind of peculiar
growth, perhaps a disease in the fish. However, he did not trouble much
about this, his object was to find pearls, and his curiosity being
satisfied, he opened another shell.

The one he held in his hand had a golden edge of a far deeper colour
than most of the others. It was also a peculiar shape, the centre
standing out for all the world like a bruise on the forehead caused by a
heavy blow. He felt it, and its perfect roundness made him wonder what
had caused it.

He opened the shell, and as he withdrew the knife it shut again with a
snap.

"I'll have you next time," he said to himself, and managed to cut the
muscles. After cleaning out the fish he examined the shell carefully. It
seemed quite dark in the centre, and this struck him as curious. He dug
round it with the sharp point of the blade and in a short time a large
lump came away from the shell. There was evidently an outer coating, and
this he removed, when to his utter astonishment he saw a black egg
shaped pearl of great size.

He had heard there were such things as black pearls and that they were
very rare and valuable. Had he stumbled across a treasure at last? He
handled it tenderly. The pearl was perfect in shape, nearly the size of
a pigeon's egg. It was free from blemish, he saw that even with his
inexperienced eyes; there was not a speck on it, and it weighed heavy.
He feasted his eyes upon it, wondering if it was genuine and what it was
worth.

He examined the shell again, but found nothing else; the black pearl,
however, was sufficient, and he meant to give his comrades a surprise on
their return.

His luck was evidently in, for in the lot of shells he opened he found
some of the largest pearls they had yet obtained. Some were curious in
shape, being twisted into various designs, one was half black and half
white, and larger than the pure black one.

When he had finished his task, he cleared up the shells, put the pearls
away, and sat down to have a smoke, lazily watching the dinghies in the
distance. At last he saw them coming towards the schooner, and called
the boy to ask if supper would be ready, as he knew they would not want
to wait. The boats were heavily laden, and it took some time to put all
the shells on deck.

"You have had another good day," said Jack.

"Splendid," replied Jacob, "and I think we had better clear out for
Fremantle as soon as you like. We have several tons of good shell on
board, and some hundreds of fair sized pearls besides the seeds. The
trip will pan out well and Barry Tuxford will be satisfied. It will not
be long before he sends here again with a better equipped lot of boats."

"What do you say, Phil?" asked Jack.

"We cannot safety put much more on the schooners," he replied, "and I
think we had better knock off and clear out."

"Then if all are agreeable we will get away at once."

The others signified their assent, and it was decided to sail when all
the shell had been safely stowed away in the two schooners.

They were all smoking and chatting after supper when Harry Marton
said,--

"You have not told us whether you had any luck to-day; did you find many
pearls?"

"Several," said Jack, carelessly, "some a good size and well shaped."

"Let us have a look at them," said Jacob, and Jack went to fetch them.
He took out the big black pearl and put it in his pocket.

It happened that Kylis heard Jacob talking about leaving the bay, and he
was anxious to learn whether the pearls were valuable. He saw they were
all occupied and not likely to keep a sharp look out, and snake-like, he
glided behind some of the pearl shell barrels until he was within
earshot. The white crew were all at rest, as there was nothing more for
them to do. He left Miah on the watch, and told him to make a peculiar
bird-like cry if he saw any danger of discovery.

Jack placed the pearls before Jacob, and he pronounced them to be the
most valuable yet taken. "We must sort them out before we start," he
said, "and stow them safely away; some of these black devils are awful
thieves and you cannot be too careful. Those two fellows Amos Hooker
sent you are up to no good, I can tell by the way they hang together,
and watch us."

Kylis grinned, and showed his teeth in a white gleam.

"I'll take charge of them if you like," said Jack. "Barry gave me a
strong box in case we found anything of value, and also a couple of
cases which I can carry always with me if it is necessary."

"That's Barry all over, he always looks ahead. I think you are the
proper person to look after them, but there is some risk in it."

"How can there be?" said Jack, laughing.

"Listen, and I will tell you," said Jacob. "On one of my voyages, we
found amongst the others six fine pearls of value, and my mate decided
to do as you suggest, carry them on his person in a small case. They
nearly proved the death of him, for one of the crew got wind of it, and
attacked him in his bunk, just before we got into port. If I had not
come on the scene, he would have had a bad time, but I settled the
fellow, he's never been any good since. You'll have to be careful, Mr.
Redland, if you carry them about with you always."

"Perhaps you had better put them all in the big box," said Harry.

"I am agreeable, all except one," said Jack, smiling.

They looked at him curiously, he spoke mysteriously, what did it mean?

"I have a little surprise in store for you," went on Jack, and Kylis
strained his ears to listen. "I had a find to-day, at least I shall be
very disappointed if it does not turn out as well as I expect."

"Discovered a big pearl?" asked Phil, with a laugh. "I hope it is not a
fraud."

"It may be for all I know, it is black," said Jack.

Jacob Rank sprang to his feet and said, excitedly,

"A black pearl? you said a black pearl? I have only seen one in my life,
and it was sold for a heap of money. Where is it?"

"Here," replied Jack, as he took it out of his pocket and handed it to
him.

When Jacob saw the beautiful black egg-shaped pearl, he gasped for
breath, and stared at it with wondering eyes. They crowded around him,
as he held it in his hand, and all seemed lost in amazement.

"What do you think of it?" asked Jack.

"Mr. Redland, this is one of the rarest pearls that ever came out of a
shell. It is perfect, there is not a fault in it, and look at its size.
It is worth a heap of money, I dare not say how much, if we had found
nothing else, this pearl would have been worth coming for," said Jacob.
Phil Danks and Hake Moss were also loud in their praises, and examined
it closely.

"This will not need any pearl faker to make it perfect," said Phil.

"No," replied Jacob, "it can be mounted just as it is."

"What is a pearl faker?" asked Jack.

"Pearl fakers are clever fellows, they can remove the defects of a pearl
and give it a perfect appearance. Hundreds of pearls have been through
their hands, and no one can tell what they have done to them."

"There are all kinds of trades," said Jack, laughing.

"And this is profitable; I know a man who has made a heap of money at
it," replied Jacob.

"And so you think the black pearl needs no faking?"

"None at all, the merest attempt would spoil it."

"And do you think I had better carry it on my person?"

"Certainly, I had no idea you had secured such a gem. We must be careful
how we part with it, but Barry will see to that, he knows the value of
most things," said Jacob.

Jack had forgotten for the moment that the pearl was not his property,
that he had only a share in it, and he felt keenly disappointed. This
black pearl would have been the very one to send to Winifred, that was
his first thought when he found it in the shell.

"Where is the case Barry gave you?" asked Jacob.

"Here," replied Jack, handing him a green leather case with a lock and
clasp.

"This looks all right," said Jacob, "will the pearl go in? I see there
are compartments, you will have to knock two or three into one for it."

"That is easily done," said Jack, "and I can wrap it up well so that it
will take no harm."

Jacob fondled the pearl before he gave it back to him and said, "It is
not often a man has the chance of handling such a gem as this, I could
look at it for hours. There may be more where that came from."

Kylis heard most of the talk, and knew that the black pearl must be of
great value. If Jack Redland always carried it with him, his task would
be difficult, but he did not despair; in any case he could try for some
of the others. He crawled back to Miah unobserved, but did not tell him
about the black pearl, that matter he meant to keep to himself; not even
Amos Hooker should hear about it if it came into his possession. If he
failed to secure any pearls before they arrived in Shark's Bay, then it
would be time enough to give Amos a hint as to the valuable cargo on
board, and he could please himself what steps he took to secure any
portion of it.

There was much jubilation on board at the success of the trip, and the
black pearl put the final touch to their hilarity. Jack Redland placed
the pearl in the case, and put it in the belt he wore round his waist.

He had made up his mind to try and buy it right out, and if the amount
was beyond his means, he meant to ask Barry Tuxford to buy it for him
and keep it until he could pay for it. Winifred should have it some day,
he vowed. He had found it, and she would value it all the more on
account of the trouble he had taken to get it.




CHAPTER FIFTEENTH

_A CLEVER THIEF_


The "Heron" was a faster sailer than the "Wild Cat," and soon left her
far behind; as they were both bound for Fremantle this did not matter.
The "Heron" was to put in at Shark's Bay, to land the two divers, and
this would give the other schooner time to get on terms with her.

Kylis had had no opportunity of attempting to steal any of the pearls so
far, and they were nearing Shark's Bay. If he was to succeed there was
no time to be lost. The black pearl was his object, but the difficulties
to be overcome in endeavouring to secure it were almost unsurmountable.
Jack Redland always carried it with him, and slept with his belt on; he
was, moreover, a match for such a man as Kylis, being strong and active.
In his cabin the whole of the pearls were kept securely locked up, and
as Kylis had no excuse for being in that part of the schooner suspicion
would at once be aroused if he was seen there.

Now that the chief part of their work was over there was a certain
amount of laxity and freedom on board. The crew were allowed more
liberty, although Phil Danks took care the schooner should be thoroughly
looked after. Jacob Rank was on board, and this relieved Phil from some
responsibility, as he was as good a sailor as himself. Jacob often took
charge while Phil rested, and this arrangement suited both, as the
former did not care to be always idle.

In consequence of this free and easy style of managing the "Heron,"
Kylis and Miah had very little difficulty in roaming about where they
liked, although if they ventured near Jack Redland's cabin, and Jacob
caught sight of them, they had to beat a speedy retreat.

Kylis knew the coast well, and saw they would be in Shark's Bay with a
fair wind in another four-and-twenty hours. He became desperate, and
without telling Miah of his purpose, determined to try and get the black
pearl that night.

He was a swimmer of great endurance, and could remain in the water for
hours, covering long distances. He knew that about midnight, or shortly
after, the "Heron" would pass a spot called Swan Point, and that she
would not be more than four or five miles distant from it. Swan Point
was a peculiar shaped rock, standing in solitary grandeur, about two
miles from the shore, with a deep channel between. Sometimes vessels
passed through the channel, but only in daylight. Kylis thought out his
plan cleverly. If successful in his attempt, he could slip overboard,
swim to Swan Point, remain there and rest, and then swim to the shore.
There were sharks about, but he had his knife, and had come off best in
a tussle with one of these monsters. If he failed he could still jump
overboard, and escape.

Jacob Rank was somewhat hilarious that night, having prevailed upon Phil
to let him have a bottle of liquor, some of which he shared with one or
two of the crew, who were as lively as himself. A hand at cards being
suggested, Phil joined in "just to keep order," he said, and added, "but
I do not think it fair to win your money under such circumstances."

"You are welcome to all you can get out of me," said Jacob, "and a game
of euchre is what I want. If you win so much the better for you, but I
mean to have my game whether you join in or not."

Jack Redland left them to it, and turned in. Euchre was a game he knew
very little about, although he had taken a hand on board the "Golden
Land" once or twice.

"You fellows look like making a night of it," he said. "As we shall be
in Shark's Bay to-morrow I think I had better have a camp, I mean to go
ashore."

"All serene," shouted Jacob. "Remember me in your dreams, and don't try
and swallow that black pearl in mistake for a pill."

Kylis watched Jack go to his cabin and then, leaving Miah, strolled
towards the players. Miah watched him, feeling glad he had gone alone,
for he knew there was some devilry afoot.

Jacob being in a good humour--he held a fine euchre hand, looked up and
saw Kylis standing near.

"Come here, you black thief, and I'll show you how to play euchre,"
roared Jacob.

"He probably knows how to handle the cards as well as any of us,"
laughed Phil. "Can you play euchre, Kylis?"

The black grinned, and said he had often played with Amos Hooker and
others at Shark's Bay.

"I told you," said Phil. "Let him play your hand, Jacob."

"I'm dashed if I do, it's too good for a nigger to handle."

"Joker, right and left bower, eh?" asked Phil smiling.

"Not quite so good as that, skipper, but it's tarnation near it."

"Then go ahead, you go alone, I suppose?"

They were playing partners, Phil with one sailor, Jacob with another.

"Yes, I'm going alone," said Jacob, and his partner put down his cards.

Jacob played the joker, and trumps went round, then he played the right
bower, the knave of diamonds, and the left bower, the knave of hearts
fell on it from Phil. Jacob gave a whoop as he said--

"You can't beat me now, I have the lot," and he threw down the ace, king
and queen of diamonds.

"Whew! What a hand," said Phil. "How did you manage it, Jacob?"

"Dry up, no chaff, you dealt," he said.

"And turned it down, worse luck. I might have got through, as yours were
all reds."

"Very good hand," said Kylis.

"Oh, oh, my black bird, you think so, do you?" laughed Jacob. "I don't
often treat a nigger, but after that hand you shall have a tot, here you
are."

He handed the glass to the black, Phil grunting his disapproval, and
remarking that it was throwing good stuff away.

Kylis saw they were fixed up for a long sitting, and this favoured his
plans. He watched the game for some time and then sneaked away
unobserved. In case anyone chanced to see him he went in the opposite
direction to Jack's cabin; he returned, crawling along the deck silently
and swiftly. In his hand he had one of the big knives used for opening
pearl shells. He paused when he neared the cabin, listening, and the
steady breathing denoted Jack Redland was sound asleep. The night was
not dark, and Kylis had seen the dim outline of Swan Point in the
distance before he left the card players. Again he crawled forward until
his head reached the door, which was open. Looking in he saw Jack lying
half dressed on his bunk, the belt with the case in round him. Kylis
could have stabbed him as he slept, and probably would have done so had
he not seen the end of the case, in which the black pearl lay, peeping
out of the inner side of the belt. For once Jack had evidently been
careless, and not fastened it securely in the belt. If he could obtain
the case without awaking the sleeper there would be no need for
violence.

Kylis crept like a cat to Jack Redland's side, then his big, black hand
went slowly up and gently drew out the case. It was locked, but with a
quick twist with the point of his knife the black opened it, slipped out
the pearl, closed the case, pressed the broken spring in as far as he
could, and noiselessly put it back in its place.

Jack Redland slept soundly and did not stir. Kylis did his work cleverly
and with marvellous quickness. The black, never losing his caution, or
hurrying in any way, glided out of the cabin and along the deck, the
pearl in his mouth. If Jack Redland did not discover his loss he was
safe, and Kylis determined to take the risk. If there was any danger of
discovery he would go overboard with the pearl, no matter where they
were.

Luck favoured the black. When Jack Redland got up in the morning the
schooner was entering Shark's Bay. He fastened the belt, pushing the
case into its place without examining it; he was not likely to suspect
the pearl had been abstracted while he slept.

Jacob Rank and his fellow card players were somewhat seedy after their
all night sitting, but they soon shook off the effects, and intended
going ashore to stretch their legs for an hour or two on land.

Kylis was anxious to get away, but did not show it. He and Miah had been
paid, and Phil said they could go ashore in the first dinghy.

However, before a boat was lowered, Amos Hooker put out from the shore,
eager to learn what their luck had been, and Phil said the divers might
go back with him.

This did not suit Kylis, who was well aware if Amos got on board he
would remain as long as they would have him. He must speak to him,
quietly, and tell him he had important news, which was better told
ashore, out of earshot of anyone on board.

"Safely back," said Amos, as his boat came alongside. "By all the
powers, if it's not Jacob Rank!" he exclaimed as he caught sight of him.

"Yes, I'm alive and well," replied Jacob, "but no thanks to the devils
who left me in the lurch."

"It was a dirty trick to play you," said Amos.

"And they shall pay for it if ever I lay hands on them," he replied.

Amos was anxious to hear what Kylis and Miah had to report, and as they
looked over the side of the schooner he caught sight of them and said--

"I suppose you wish to go ashore?"

"Yes," replied Kylis, eagerly.

"Then jump into the boat and I'll take you, and come back to hear the
news."

They dropped from the schooner into the boat, and as Kylis landed, the
pearl fell out of his loin cloth, where he had concealed it, into the
bottom of the boat. Amos Hooker saw it, and Kylis, with a feeling of
rage sweeping over him, knew he had seen it. A glance upwards showed him
no one on board the schooner had observed it. He picked it up,
concealing it again, and Amos pushed off hurriedly from the schooner.

Kylis knew he must make the best of the situation, Amos Hooker would
think he had stolen the pearl, according to his instructions, and he
must drive the best bargain he could with him. After all it might be the
best way of parting with it, because he would have great difficulty in
disposing of it. A black man in possession of such a pearl would be an
object of suspicion, he knew that well enough. If he got a fair sum from
Amos, and handed the pearl over to him there would not be much danger to
himself; it would not be found in his possession if search was made for
it, and at the same time the knowledge that Amos Hooker had it would
give him a hold over the man.

Miah stared at it in surprise, aghast at Kylis's cleverness, for he had
no idea the pearl had been stolen. He was glad no harm had been done to
Jack Redland. Cunning as his mate, although not so treacherous, he
commenced to think it was due to himself to have a share in the pearl.
If Kylis and Amos objected, he could treat with the other side.

Half way to the shore Amos rested on the oars and said--

"Is that a black pearl you dropped in the boat?"

"Yes," answered Kylis.

"Where did you get it?"

"Stole it last night in accordance with your orders."

"I never told you to steal anything."

"What do you call it?" asked Kylis, grinning. "At any rate, I stole it
at the risk of my life, and if they find out it has gone before they
leave the bay there'll be a mighty row."

"How did you get it?"

Briefly Kylis told him how he abstracted the pearl from the case in Jack
Redland's belt, and Amos was surprised at the black's daring and
cleverness.

"And he has not missed it yet?"

"No, he thinks it is in the case."

"He may not miss it until after they have sailed."

"All the better for us."

"Let me look at it," said Amos.

"No."

"Hand it over, you dirty black thief, or I'll knock you out of the
boat," and he raised an oar.

Kylis laughed as he pointed to the schooner, and said--

"They'll wonder what the row is about, it may create suspicion."

Amos saw the force of this remark, and restrained himself.

"When will you hand it over to me? It is of no use to you. I can sell
it, you cannot, and it must be worth a lot of money."

"You shall have it when we come to terms, and I know what share I am to
have. There must be money down before I give it up."

"Good, money down," said Miah.

Kylis looked hard at him as he said--

"You have nothing to do with it, I got hold of the pearl."

"And I know where it is, and mean to have a share."

"And what will you do if you get no share?" said Amos, savagely.

"Split," replied Miah, and they all knew the meaning of the word well.




CHAPTER SIXTEENTH

_JACK DISCOVERS HIS LOSS_


The "Heron" remained only a few hours at Shark's Bay, and then proceeded
on her way, as they were anxious to reach Fremantle as soon as possible.

It was not until he turned in at night that Jack Redland discovered the
pearl was gone. He unstrapped the belt and placed it on his bunk, taking
out the case in order to look at the treasure he thought it contained.
He saw at once it had been tampered with, and pulling the spring found
it was broken; a glance inside showed him it was empty, the pearl was
gone.

For some moments he was stupefied, overwhelmed with dismay, and unable
to act. It was difficult to believe the pearl was missing, yet there was
no doubt about it. Who had taken it? Where was it now? These were
questions he could not answer. He rushed on deck, half dressed, and
encountered Jacob Rank.

"What's up now?" asked the astounded Jacob, recognising something
serious must have occurred.

"The pearl's gone," gasped Jack.

"The pearl! Which pearl?" asked Jacob.

"The black pearl. It is not in the case."

"Then it must have fallen out. Have you looked about your cabin?"

"The lock has been forced; someone has stolen it," said Jack.

"How could anyone steal it when you had the belt round you?"

"I do not know, but it has gone. What are we to do?"

"Find it," said Jacob. "It will be in your cabin somewhere. We will go
and search for it."

"Where's Phil Danks?" asked Jack.

"Having a rest. We can tell him what a fright you had when we have found
it."

They went to Jack's cabin and turned everything out, but no black pearl
could they find.

Jacob sat on a chest and looked at his companion.

"Hand over the case," he said.

Jack gave it him, and he examined it carefully.

"It has been forced with a knife, here are the scratches on it. How did
the thief get hold of it? Have you ever left it off when you turned in?"

"No," replied Jack. "I always took the precaution to sleep with it on."

"Could anyone take the case out of your belt and replace it while you
were asleep?" asked Jacob.

"Impossible. I am a light sleeper, and the slightest touch would rouse
me."

"We'll go and see what Phil has to say about it," said Jacob.

The skipper of the "Heron" was dozing on his bunk when they roused him.

"What do you want?" he growled. "Cannot you let a fellow have a decent
night's rest?"

"You'll not rest much when you hear what has happened," said Jacob.

"Then keep the news till morning," replied Phil.

"It is not the sort of news to keep. We must act at once. Sit up and
listen. The black pearl has been stolen."

Phil Danks was wide awake now, and sprang out of his bunk.

"What's that you say?"

"The black pearl has been stolen," said Jacob.

"It is quite true," said Jack, showing the empty case, and proceeded to
explain how he discovered his loss.

"I can't make it out," said Phil. "If you had the belt on at night, how
the case was got at. When did you see it last?"

"When I went into my cabin the night before we entered Shark's Bay."

"Then it must have been stolen during the night. I have it," he said,
excitedly. "I'll bet a trifle one of those black fellows has it. They
are as cunning as dingoes."

"You're right," said Jacob. "I ought to have thought of that before, and
I know which of 'em it is--Kylis. Why did he come sneaking round to see
us playing cards? He was hanging about half the night, watching his
chance."

"But how could he take the case out of my belt, without waking me, open
it, and replace it?" asked Jack.

"There's no telling what a black thief like him can do. They're clever
all of 'em, and Kylis is about the smartest of the lot. It's my belief
he's in with Amos Hooker over this job. I had my doubts when you told me
who got you the men. Now I am certain Amos had a hand in it. Why did he
not come back to the schooner again after taking them ashore? I thought
it strange at the time, but I see his reason now. He thought if the loss
of the pearl was discovered he might be asked nasty questions, difficult
to answer."

"Had we better put back and try and recover it?" asked Jack.

"There's not much chance of that," said Phil. "You see, we have no proof
they have it, and even if we had we should not be able to recover it
without paying a big reward. The best thing we can do is to get to
Fremantle as quickly as possible, lay the whole circumstances before
Barry Tuxford, tell him our suspicions, and hear what he has to say."

Jack felt relieved. He had great faith in Barry, and thought he might
probably devise some means to recover the pearl.

"He'll be very angry about it, I expect," said Jack.

"Oh, no, he won't. You do not know Barry as well as I do," said Jacob.
"He seldom gets ruffled. We have a rich cargo on board, that will pay us
all well without the black pearl, and he'll be satisfied. I'll tell you
what he will do. He'll set himself to get that pearl from Amos Hooker,
if he has it, and he knows the way to put the screw on."

"Then you think there is some probability of getting it back?" said
Jack.

Jacob shook his head as he replied--

"I doubt it; but if any man can recover it, that man is Barry Tuxford."

Jack Redland was exceedingly mortified at the loss of the black pearl.
He had set his heart upon buying all the shares in it, and sending it to
Winifred. It puzzled him when he thought how it had been taken, for it
must have been accomplished while he was asleep. He was determined to
recover the pearl in some way. How, he had as yet formed no idea.

The "Heron" arrived at Fremantle in advance of the "Wild Cat," and the
news that she was in the bay quickly reached Perth.

Barry Tuxford lost no time in going to meet her, and there was
considerable excitement amongst the pearl buyers over her arrival, for
they were aware she had been on a sort of secret voyage to an unknown
pearling ground. This was quite sufficient to arouse curiosity as to the
result of the trip, and when Barry appeared on the scene he was met by a
chorus of inquiries.

"Wait until I have been on board, then I shall be able to tell you how
we have got on. Up to now I know no more than yourselves."

"Give me a chance if you want to sell any good ones," said Silas Filey,
a well known buyer of pearls, and a curious character in his way. He was
an old convict, sent out for some political offence many years ago, and
had amassed a large fortune in buying and selling pearls. He always
carried a huge pocket book stuffed with pearls in his inner coat pocket,
and they were reckoned to be worth many thousands of pounds. Silas had
never been robbed, he was too dangerous to tackle, for he was
particularly ready with his firearm, and had sent more than one
desperate character to his account in his time.

Silas Filey did other things besides pearl dealing. He was credited with
having assisted more convicts to escape from the settlement than any
other man, and had thereby reaped a rich harvest. One man in particular
he had got clear away, although there was no proof against him. This was
a well-to-do Englishman named "Gentleman Jack," who having got into
trouble at home, was sent out to Fremantle. It was currently reported
"Gentleman Jack" promised five thousand pounds for his services if he
succeeded in getting away to America. Silas carried out his portion of
the contract skilfully. "Gentleman Jack" got on board a vessel bound for
America, landed there safely, and discharged his debt honourably.

Barry Tuxford knew Silas well, and in divers transactions with him had
found him a fair dealer.

"You shall have a chance, Silas," he said, "if there is anything worth
your while to look at. This is a sort of trial trip, and I do not know
how it has panned out."

Silas laughed as he replied--

"There are not many things you go into that do not pan out well. You
made a big haul out of the Great Tom mine, did you not?"

"Fair," replied Barry cautiously, and inwardly thinking what a welcome
surprise he had in store for Jack Redland.

"Here's Barry," said Jacob, as he saw a boat shoot out and make for the
schooner. "I'll keep out of the way a bit and give him a surprise later
on. Don't let on you have me on board, boys."

"We'll keep it dark as long as we can," replied Phil, smiling. "But if
Barry asks questions about you he'll soon smell a rat."

There were hearty greetings when Barry Tuxford stepped on board the
"Heron."

"Your friends at home would hardly recognise you," he said to Jack, who
was as brown as a berry, "but you look in splendid condition, and
pearling evidently agrees with you. Where's your pal? In the 'Wild
Cat?'"

"Yes," replied Jack, "and she'll be in the bay to-night, I expect, she
is never far behind."

"What sort of a trip have you had?" he asked. "I think you'll be quite
satisfied," said Jack. "We have some very good pearls on board, and many
tons of valuable shell."

"It's the best pearl fishery I ever was on," said Phil, "and next time,
with more divers, it will turn out a big thing." He then proceeded to
give Barry a brief account of the trip and of the result.

"Then Jacob Rank was right, after all, and those scoundrels were wrong.
Did you see any signs of him?"

"Of Jacob?" asked Phil.

"Yes; the crew said he was drowned, but I did not believe the story."

"And you were right," said a voice behind him, and turning round, he saw
Jacob alive and well.

Barry Tuxford shook him heartily by the hand and said--

"I thought you would pull through somehow, and I am very glad to see
you."

"Are any of my crew ashore here?" asked Jacob.

Barry laughed as he replied--

"You may find one or two, but if they get wind you are on board the
'Heron' they will clear out quick, you may be sure of that."

"Let me lay hands on them, and they'll wish they had never been born,"
said Jacob.

Barry Tuxford went into Jack's cabin and inspected the pearls. He was
delighted with them and said--

"There will be a good division of profits out of this lot. Good pearls
are scarce and dear, and Silas Filey is on the look out for some."

"Silas is always knocking around when there is a chance of a deal," said
Jacob. "It takes a clever man to bargain with him, but I think you are
equal to it. What do you think our pearls are worth?"

"I cannot say off hand, but some hundreds of pounds, and then there is
the shell. I shall equip another lot of schooners as soon as possible,
and send you out again," said Barry.

"I am willing to go," said Jacob, "and I can speak for Phil and Hake
Moss. I don't know whether the 'new chums' will tackle the job again."

"I want Mr. Redland ashore if he will stay," said Barry. "I have
something more in his line than pearling."

"I enjoyed the trip," said Jack, "but I shall be glad to stay with you
for a time. Have you discovered a champion amongst your horses?" he
asked smiling.

"I think you will find one or two worth riding," said Barry. "At any
rate, you can try them, and give me the benefit of your opinion."

"With pleasure," replied Jack. "It will be a treat to be on the back of
a good horse again, and have a rousing gallop."

"It will not be long before you have an opportunity," replied Barry. "We
will talk the matter over when you come ashore with me. I like to keep
the fellows waiting, so shall remain here until the 'Wild Cat' arrives.
I should not be at all surprised if Silas comes off to see us; he's
desperately eager to find out all about the trip."

"We must keep it to ourselves," said Jacob. "I have no doubt we shall be
followed next time, but we can put them off the scent with a little
trouble."

"Where is this bay?" asked Barry.

"In the north-west, about four hundred miles beyond Shark's Bay, and
it's a rum place to find," said Phil. "I doubt if we should have struck
it if we had not seen Jacob's signal."

"Then you found him in the bay?"

"Yes; and he'd hoisted a flag on the rock jutting out to sea. It was
about the best use he could have made of his shirt," laughed Phil.

"There's something more to tell you," said Jack Redland. "It is the only
bit of bad luck we had on the voyage."

"Then it will keep," said Barry smiling. "Tell it me when we go ashore.
Whatever it is I am quite satisfied with all you have done, and we
cannot expect to always have good luck."

"It was beastly bad luck," said Jacob, "but you can never trust those
black beggars. Mr. Redland will tell you how it happened, and you are
the man to recover the pearl."

"You've let it out now," said Phil laughing.

"A pearl? What pearl? Did you lose a valuable pearl?" asked Barry.

"We did," said Jack, "a black pearl. I may as well tell you all about
it."




CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH

_THE PEARL DEALER_


Barry Tuxford listened attentively to Jack's story of the stolen pearl,
and when it was ended said, "There is no doubt in my mind that one of
those black fellows Amos Hooker engaged for you, stole it during the
night. It was cleverly done, and I am surprised he was successful. Such
a pearl as you have described ought to be worth four or five thousand
pounds, probably more, if we found the right customer. Someone who
possesses one pearl of the sort would give a stiff sum to get a pair."

"Do you think you will be able to recover it?" asked Jack, anxiously.

"It's a toss up whether we do or not. If Amos Hooker has it, I think it
can be managed, but it will have to be very carefully worked. It will be
better to say nothing at all about it, and make no inquiries. Amos will
keep it for some time before he tries to dispose of it, and if we leave
him alone he may get careless. Black pearls are very scarce, and one the
shape and size of ours will be easily recognised. On the whole, I think
it may be recovered, but it will cost money."

Jack was relieved to hear this, and said, when he and Barry were
alone,--

"I have a particular reason for wishing to recover that pearl. Do you
know what I intended doing if we had brought it here safely?"

"No."

"I intended asking you to buy it for me, and allow me to pay for it when
I had the money."

Barry looked surprised as he said,--

"What do you require such a valuable pearl for? You could do a great
deal better with your money."

"I wished to send it home as a present to a great friend of mine."

"A lady, of course," said Barry smiling. "I see; it would be a very
valuable gift, and she ought to think a lot of it, if ever she receives
it."

"She would," replied Jack, "but more on account of my finding it than
for its actual value."

"I'll try and get it for you," said Barry, "and if I succeed, you shall
have it at a fair price. Ah, here's Silas, I thought he would not be
able to wait until my return."

Silas Filey walked anxiously about, waiting for Barry Tuxford, and as
the time passed, became impatient.

"He's staying on board just to aggravate everybody, that's his little
game. I want to be first in at this deal. I'll take a boat out to the
schooner and risk the chance of being ordered away."

As the boat came alongside the "Heron," Barry Tuxford looked over the
side and said, with a laugh, "What are you here for Silas? I am afraid
we have nothing on board that will suit you."

"Will you let me have a look at the pearls?" asked Silas.

"It's against the rules, you must wait until we come ashore."

"I say, Barry, give me first chance, and I'll offer you a good price,
upon my word, I will. I want a string of good pearls badly for a
customer who is not particular how much he pays so long as he gets what
he wants."

"That's the sort of man I like to get hold of," said Barry.

"They are difficult to find, but this is a cert, a real cert; let me
come on board."

"I must ask the skipper," said Barry.

"You are the owner, that is sufficient," replied Silas.

"Phil Danks is in charge and it is only fair to ask his permission, but
I will try and arrange it for you."

Barry disappeared, and Silas muttered to himself--

"He's a confounded humbug, he's keeping me here for fun. I wonder what
they have on board. He'll drive a hard bargain now he sees I am so
eager, but I must have the pearls, it's a big deal if I get what my man
wants."

When Barry Tuxford returned, he said,--

"If I let you have first pick you must be prepared to give a stiff
price, I know the value of pearls as well as you do."

"I'll deal fair with you, upon my word, I will," said Silas. "May I come
up?"

"Yes," replied Barry, "and mind, there's to be no Jew business about
this transaction."

Silas Filey scrambled up the ladder and climbed over the side of the
schooner. Barry introduced him to Jack, who thought the dealer a curious
looking man to handle valuable pearls.

Jacob Rank and Phil were both known to Silas, who congratulated the
former on his return to life.

"We thought you'd gone under, Jacob," he said, "but I'm glad such is not
the case. You have made a grand discovery, I hear, found pearls by the
hundreds, somewhere. You are a clever chap, Jacob, very clever."

"And who gave you such valuable information?" asked Jacob.

"Never mind where I got it from, it's true."

"Much you know about it. If I owned this blessed schooner, or happened
to be skipper of her, I'd take precious good care to keep her decks
clear of such men as you," growled Jacob.

"I have done you no harm, my friend," said Silas.

"And I'll take jolly good care you never have the chance," was the
reply. "Pearl dealers are frauds, I'd have nothing to do with you if I
was Mr. Tuxford."

"But you are not Mr. Tuxford, my dear Jacob," said Silas. "If you were,
you would have made a fortune long ago, with the chances you have had."

"You two are always at it," said Barry. "Come and see the pearls,
Silas."

"Keep your eyes on him, and don't let him handle them," was Jacob's
parting shot.

"I'm sorry for him," said Silas, "Jacob is a good fellow, but he's a
fool."

They went to Jack's cabin, and he unlocked the box and took out the
various drawers containing the different sized pearls. When Silas saw
the collection, his eyes fastened on them eagerly and Barry Tuxford, who
was watching him closely, thought he would be able to sell well. There
were pearls of all shapes, egg-shaped, oval, pear shaped, curiously
twisted pearls, and pearls of many sizes. In one box, Silas saw about
forty or fifty perfect pearls, free from all excrescences, with
perfectly smooth surfaces, and possessing a brilliant even lustre. He
knew they were valuable, the more so because they were of even size,
shape, and weight, and were just what he required. Jack handed him the
box, and he examined each pearl carefully; there was no flaw in them,
they were as perfect as any he had ever seen. He looked at the other
boxes and recognised that the bay Jacob Rank had discovered must be
uncommonly rich in shells, he wished he knew where it was, but there was
not much chance of finding out.

Barry and Jack waited for him to speak, but Silas Filey was a man of few
words when he meant business. He was calculating his chances, summing up
the value of the pearls, how much he could obtain for them, what he was
prepared to give, and how much profit he could make; he was also
surmising the amount Barry Tuxford would be willing to accept, and on
that basis was prepared to make a reasonable offer which would give him
scope to increase the price.

Jack replaced the pearls in the case, and was about to lock them up when
Silas said,--

"Don't put them away yet, Mr. Redland."

"I thought you were not over pleased with them," replied Jack, quietly,
and Barry smiled.

"They are not a bad lot at all, for a first trip in a new ground they
are excellent, and give promise of better things."

"Do you wish to make a bid for them?" asked Barry, coming to the point.

"How much do you want?"

"For the lot?"

"For the best lot."

"I shall not sell them separately, the buyer will have to clear us out,
seed pearls and all."

Silas shook his head as he replied,--

"A lot of them are no good to me."

"I am quite aware of that," replied Barry, "but you can get rid of them.
They are no more good to me than they are to you."

"Put a price on the lot," said Silas.

Barry Tuxford knew what these pearls were worth in the open market, but
he also knew if Silas had a wealthy customer waiting their value might
reasonably be increased.

"Six thousand pounds," he said, and Jack Redland gasped for breath,
while Silas held up both hands in pious horror at such an attempt at
extortion.

"A very good joke," said Silas, "on your side."

"You will get that for the best lot alone if you have a customer handy
such as you have mentioned," replied Barry.

Silas thought this not improbable, but all the same it was an outrageous
price for Barry to ask.

"I am afraid we shall not be able to do business," said Silas, rising.

"Very well, sorry you had your journey for nothing. Lock them up again,
Mr. Redland."

"Stop a minute," said Silas. "You are always in such a hurry. Ask a
reasonable figure. Say half, and we can commence to talk."

Jack was surprised, he had no idea of the value of pearls, and three
thousand pounds seemed a large sum.

"I cannot waste my time, Silas, and you know well enough three thousand
is ridiculous."

"Well, let us say another five hundred."

"No, not anything near the mark," replied Barry, knowing well enough
Silas was biting.

"You are very hard."

"Not at all. You asked as a favour to be given first chance. If I take
these pearls into Fremantle, and put them on the open market, they'll
sell well, especially as they are scarce. It will save trouble if you
take the lot, and six thousand is a fair thing."

"It's simply ruinous," said Silas. "I'll give you four, and not a pound
more."

"Then it's no deal," said Barry, and Jack fancied he was unwise not to
accept it.

Silas shuffled out of the cabin, and Barry whispered to Jack,--

"He'll spring another five hundred, and he can have them. It's a good
price, but he'll make a clear couple of thousand out of the deal if he
has a customer for the big ones."

Silas Filey went to the side of the schooner and seemed about to go down
into his boat. He hesitated, and Barry said, "Make it another five
hundred and you shall have them, with one condition attached," he added,
as though a thought had occurred to him.

"A condition," said Silas, surprised. "What sort of a condition?"

"Will you give the price, £4500?" asked Barry.

"It's a robbery, they're not worth it."

"Bosh," said Barry, testily. "Don't be such an old fool, you know they
are worth it, to you."

"Why to me more than anyone else?"

"Because you know where to place them."

Silas sighed, there was much truth in Barry's remarks. Here were all the
pearls ready to his hand, it might take him months to get such a lot
together.

"I'll give it you," he said, at last.

"And you've got a bargain," said Barry. Jack Redland was delighted,
there was still the pearl shell to sell, it was a rare haul.

"What condition do you attach?" asked Silas.

"We have lost a valuable black pearl, it has been stolen, and we want
you to help us to get it back."

"A black pearl?" said Silas, amazed. "Tell me all about it," he said,
eagerly.

"Mr. Redland will tell you, but first of all will you help us?"

"Of course I will, and buy it from you."

"It is not for sale," said Jack.

Silas Filey's face fell, he would have given a good deal to secure such
a prize.

"Tell me all about it," he said, and Jack gave him a brief outline of
the robbery and a description of the pearl.

"Where do you think it is?" he asked.

"I know where it is, at least I am almost certain," said Barry. "An old
scoundrel we both know at Shark's Bay has it. He put the black fellows
up to stealing some of our pearls, and they happened to get the best. I
mean Amos Hooker, he's the man."

"He has it!" exclaimed Silas. "I'd like to get it. He's a bad lot, is
Amos. I hope I can do it for you, I think I can. I'll get into
communication with him. He'll not be able to sell it in a hurry."

"You will have to be careful, or he'll be on his guard," said Barry.

"I have had dealings with him before, and he will not be at all
suspicious of me. Are you quite sure you will not sell it? Do you know
what such a pearl as you have described is worth?" he said, turning to
Jack.

"I have no idea."

"Anything between three to seven thousand; it is worth the latter sum to
a man who already possesses one."




CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH

_ON HORSEBACK AGAIN_


When the "Wild Cat" arrived in the bay the news of the sale of the
pearls was at once told to Harry Marton, and he thought it a wonderful
price to obtain for them. Barry Tuxford examined the shells and said
they ought to bring about £150 a ton, if not more.

"There will be a good division of profits," he said, "but come ashore
with me, I have something else to tell you. By jove, I forgot all about
it. There's a letter for you at my place from the old country."

Jack's heart beat fast. It must be from Winifred, and he was anxious to
hear the news.

"How long have you had it?" he asked.

"Some weeks; that is the reason I forgot it."

Jack was annoyed; Winifred would think he had been a long time answering
it, but he could explain it was not his fault.

Harry Marton accompanied them ashore, and they went to Barry Tuxford's
house at Perth.

"The letter first," said Jack eagerly, and Barry smiled as he handed it
to him.

Jack recognised the handwriting; it was from Winifred. He left the room,
as he wished to read it alone.

Winifred wrote in good spirits, telling him all the news about her home,
and how her father had won a couple of good races with Topsy Turvy.

"We miss you very much indeed, Jack," she wrote, "and often talk about
you and wonder what you are doing in that far off country. It seems a
terribly long way from here, and sometimes I fancy you will not come
back. Father says most young men who go out get married, and settle
down. Have you met anyone you like very much indeed yet? If so, I'll try
and love her for your sake."

"Will you?" thought Jack. "You will not get the chance."

"I know you will answer this letter as soon as you can, but father says
I must not expect a reply too quickly, for there is no telling where you
may be when it arrives. I shall look forward to hearing from you. I
received your letters from Port Said and Colombo, and also the one when
you arrived at Fremantle. What a dear good soul Captain Seagrave must
be. We are going to ask him to come and see us and tell us all about the
voyage."

She concluded a long letter by wishing him every happiness, and good
luck. "Father wishes me to tell you to wear his colours the first time
you ride a horse of your own, or if you own one, to let the jockey wear
them. He is superstitious about it, and believes they will bring you
good luck."

Jack read between the lines, and was contented. He recognised that
Winifred loved him, and was constantly thinking about him. He must
answer her letter by the next mail, and although he had no pearls to
send her this time he would tell her to look forward to receiving a
string out of the next lot.

He returned to Barry Tuxford and Harry with a face beaming with
satisfaction.

"You have had good news," said Barry, "anyone can see that. I
congratulate you. I expect your letter is from the fortunate young lady
who is to receive the black pearl--when you recover it."

"That is so," replied Jack, laughing. "As you remark, if we get it."

"I am commencing to think you are a bit of a mascot," said Barry
laughing. "Everything you touch turns out well. I have some real good
news for you."

"Indeed," said Jack, "what is it?"

"The Great Tom mine has panned out all right."

"That's splendid," replied Jack. "I had forgotten all about it for the
moment."

"The pound shares are up to six pounds," said Barry.

"It sounds too good to be true," said Jack, excitedly. "That means three
thousand for my five hundred."

"That's it, if you sell out."

"What do you advise me to do?"

"Sell half your shares; leave the other half in. It is a dividend paying
mine, and I think they will go up to ten pounds, perhaps more, in
another year."

"That will give me fifteen hundred to play with, and the profit on the
trip as well. Harry, you must stand in; we agreed to go halves."

"Don't be ridiculous," replied Harry. "We agreed to go halves,
certainly, but that was only for the voyage. I shall not take a penny of
your profits. I have my share out of the pearls, and am quite
satisfied."

"That is not fair," said Jack. "Because I happen to have had a stroke of
luck it is no reason why you should cry off our arrangement."

"I think Mr. Marton is quite right," said Barry. "You cannot go on
sharing all through your lives; it is absurd."

"If I make a pile, Harry, you must agree to accept something from me,"
said Jack.

"If my luck is out I will; but if I make sufficient for my wants, no,"
replied Harry.

In the course of the week Barry Tuxford took Jack out to the stables,
where his horses were kept, and he had a spin on Lucky Boy, a
four-year-old bay, a great favourite of Barry's.

Jack was delighted to be on the back of a thoroughbred again; it was far
more to his taste than tossing about on a schooner, although he had
enjoyed that for a time. He had, however, no desire to make another
voyage at present. Lucky Boy was accompanied by Wanneroo, a bay, three
years old, ridden by a black boy called Willie, who was clever at his
work. The pair were attended by Onslow and Esperance.

Joe Kirby, who trained for Barry Tuxford, watched Jack critically. He
had not much faith in amateur riders, especially new chums, but he soon
saw Jack Redland was a good way beyond the average. Lucky Boy, he
thought, had never gone so well before, and this was the opinion of
Willie, when he dismounted, and the black boy looked at Jack admiringly.

Barry Tuxford was immensely pleased. He had no idea Jack could ride so
well, and he thought Captain Seagrave was right when he said he was too
good for pearl fishing.

"It does a fellow good to get on the back of a decent horse again," said
Jack, as he patted Lucky Boy's neck.

"What do you think of him?" asked Barry.

"A very good mover, not particularly fast, but I should think he was a
good stayer."

"He is, Mr. Redland," said Joe Kirby. "He can stay any distance, and
over a couple of miles he would wear a faster horse than himself down."

"I daresay you are right," replied Jack. "Has he won any races?"

"A couple of minor handicaps at the Turf Club meeting, but no race of
any value. He is generally in at a nice weight," said Barry.

"He won a Welter, too," said Joe.

"So he did, I forgot that. Carried ten seven, I think," said Barry.

"I don't know what I weigh now," said Jack, "but I could easily go to
scale at ten stone at home, and less if required."

"Then you have ridden in England?" said the trainer, somewhat surprised.

"Oh, yes, scores of times. I was almost at the top of the tree one year.
I won a race at Lewes a few days before I sailed for Fremantle."

"I thought you knew how to handle a horse when you threw your legs
across Lucky Boy," replied Joe.

"That's Dongara," said Barry, as a grey came along alone. "He's got a
bit of a temper. Gives Joe a lot of trouble, I'm afraid; but we keep
pegging away at him because we think there's something in him, and a
clever man chose him for me in Sydney. He cost more than he's worth, I
fancy, and he's had adventures; the beggar was ship-wrecked, and had to
swim ashore."

Jack glanced at the grey, and liked his appearance.

"May I ride him?" he asked.

Barry looked at the trainer, who smiled as he replied--

"If Mr. Redland will risk being thrown off there can be no objection;
but it is only fair he should be warned what sort of a horse he is."

"As bad as that, is it?" laughed Jack. "Let me try my hand. I have
ridden some nasty horses in my time; if he throws me he's welcome to any
satisfaction he may get out of it."

Dongara was brought up, and when the lads saw the new chum was going to
ride him they grinned at his expense in anticipation of some exciting
fun.

It was exciting enough while it lasted, but could hardly be called fun;
it was a battle in grim earnest, and the youngsters looked on in
amazement.

Dongara first tried to bolt, and Jack let him have his head for a couple
of miles, but did not allow him to forget who was master. This did not
exactly suit the horse, who generally had his own way with the lads.

"He's holding him," said Joe. "That's more than I expected he would do."

At the end of a stiff gallop Dongara gave in, but he was not at the end
of his experiment. He lashed out suddenly, then stood up and pawed the
air; but a blow between the ears brought him down to a less exalted
attitude. Then he tried to savage his rider, and got his nose kicked for
his trouble.

At the end of half-an-hour Dongara consented to gallop like a well
mannered thoroughbred, and it was evident Jack had him under control.

"You handled him splendidly," said Barry approvingly.

"He's a good horse," said Jack, "but, as you say, he has a very bad
temper. It will take more than I have given him to cure him; but I could
tame him in time. Where did you say he came from?"

"Sydney. Joel Kenley bought him for me."

"Joel Kenley!" exclaimed Jack. "That's very strange; his brother trained
Topsy Turvy, the last horse I rode before I left England. I am going to
look him up if ever I get as far as Sydney."

"You'll find Joel a decent sort, and well up in his business," said
Barry.

Jack enjoyed the change thoroughly, and went back with Barry, eager to
hear what he had to propose about racing.

Barry Tuxford was not long in coming to the point.

"There is not much to be won here," he said, "and after our meeting next
month I thought of taking a trip to Sydney. Will you go with me?"

"With pleasure," replied Jack. "It is just what I should like."

"Harry Marton can go back with the pearling fleet, and you can have a
share of the plunder. By the time we have finished our jaunt, Silas may
have captured the black pearl for you."

"I hope so," said Jack. "I have set my heart on getting it."

"It's not much use taking any horses, they are too good for us there,
although I should like to take them down on their own ground with a nag
from West Australia."

"Why not take Lucky Boy? He ought to be good enough to win a long
distance race, and he would get a light weight."

"We might do that, but I am afraid he would not pay his expenses. He'd
come in all right as a second string if I bought something good; do to
bring 'em along, and make the pace sound for the other fellow."

"I should say you would have some difficulty in finding a better horse
to lead another at exercise, or as you suggest, to ensure a good pace
throughout a long race. I have often seen the second string beat the
first when he has been run merely as an assistant," said Jack.

"Will you sell half your shares in the Great Tom mine?" asked Barry.

"Yes, if you advise me to do so, and the money will come in handy for
racing."

"If you are going to bet with it, keep it locked up where it is, it will
be safer there."

"Then you are no believer in backing horses?"

"Not to win much money. Of course, I like to have a flutter for the fun
of the thing, most sportsmen do," said Barry.

"When do you intend leaving here?"

"As soon as we have got the fleet away again. I must see Rank, and the
two skippers, and come to terms with them."

When Barry went to Fremantle, to arrange for the return of the schooners
to the bay, Jack wrote a reply to Winifred's letter. It was a long
epistle, and in it he gave her an account of his adventures with the
pearling schooners.

"It was a rough life, but I did not dislike it, and the finding of
pearls is very exciting. I did not intend to tell you of this incident,
but I cannot keep it to myself, and I know you have too much good sense
to be disappointed if it does not turn out as I wish. One day I found a
beautiful black egg shaped pearl in a large shell. It was perfect--not a
flaw in it, and I was bewildered at its beauty, for they are very rare.
I thought how nice it would be to send it to you as a token you were not
forgotten. Forgotten! Why Winnie, I am always thinking of you and of the
last time I saw you on the terrace, with your arms outstretched,
pleading to me to come back, or I fancied so. 'Like his conceit,' I hear
you say.

"There is an old pearl dealer here; a regular character, looks like a
cross between a Jew pawn-broker and a Christian cabdriver. He's very
rich, so my friend, Barry Tuxford, says. (Barry's a splendid fellow--a
regular colonial. I am sure you would like him.) His name is Silas
Filey--how do you fancy it--and he bought up all our pearls before he
left the schooner. He says he'll try and get the black pearl back,
because he knows the man we think persuaded the black fellow to steal
it. If it is recovered Barry has promised I shall have it at a fair
price, and I mean to send it you. Its story and adventures will interest
you, and when you look at it, if ever you have the luck, it will remind
you of 'the failure' far away in Australia.

"I am commencing to think, Win, that I am not such a dire failure after
all, for I have just made a big haul by an investment in the Great Tom
mine, again thanks to Barry, and my share of the pearls and shell will
be considerable. Tell Sir Lester, Barry and myself are off to Sydney on
a racing expedition, taking a horse called Lucky Boy with us, and that I
shall also take the black jacket with orange sleeves I rode Topsy Turvy
in with me, and if I get a chance either wear them myself, or put them
up on a good one. We are sanguine of doing some good before we return.

"I am sure Captain Seagrave would enjoy himself and amuse you both if he
paid a visit to The Downs. He's a rare good sort, and as large-hearted
and brave as only a British seaman can be. Write to the G.P.O., Sydney,
next time, that is, if you still have a corner in your heart for me. I
should like to say something, Win, but wait until I come home, and then
I will tell you my secret. Guess it if you can."




CHAPTER NINETEENTH

_A STAB IN THE DARK_


The friends separated, Harry Marton going to the bay with the augmented
pearling fleet, Jack and Barry Tuxford journeying to Sydney by one of
the mail steamers, taking Lucky Boy with them. Before following their
fortunes in New South Wales it will be interesting to learn how Amos
Hooker managed to secure the black pearl.

When they reached the shore from the schooner "Heron," Amos kept good
control over his temper and said no more about the pearl to Kylis. He
was anxious to see the "Heron" leave the bay without the loss being
discovered. He thought it better to remain on shore and not return to
the boat.

The following morning he looked across the bay from his tent, and saw
the "Heron" had put out to sea. This suited his purpose, and he set out
to hunt up the blacks, putting a revolver in his pocket in case it was
wanted. Amos Hooker had risked his own life too often to have much
regard for the lives of others, and shooting an odd black or two would
not trouble his conscience. Kylis and Miah were useful to him, and he
had no wish to harm them, but he meant having the black pearl, and at
his own price. The divers had a good trip and were paid well, he got
them the job, and it was only fair he should have the pearl.

Kylis saw him coming, and prepared for a row, he knew Amos feared him
more than any other man, but possession of the black pearl was much in
his favour; he said to himself he would smash it sooner than let Amos
have it for a mere trifle.

"The schooner has gone," said Amos. "They have not discovered the loss
of the pearl."

"They may put back when they do," replied Kylis.

"No fear of that, they are not certain we have it."

"They can form a good idea," said Miah.

"Look here," replied Amos, "you had better dry up, you are out of this
deal."

"Am I, ask him?" he said, pointing to Kylis, "we talked it over during
the night, and I am to have my share."

"It won't be a large cut in," replied Amos.

"If you are fair and square, you shall have it," said Kylis. "I want
some money down, and more when it is sold."

"How much do you want?"

"Twenty pounds each," said Kylis.

Amos swore they should have no such sum. "Forty pounds!" he exclaimed,
"I may not get that for the pearl."

"You'll get a big lump for it," said Kylis.

"Hand it over and let me look at it."

The black laughed, and shook his head.

"Where is it?" asked Amos.

"Safe, you cannot find it."

"I have not come here to kick up a row, but I mean to handle that pearl;
if you do not give it me I'll drive you out of the settlement; I can
easily do it, most of them would rather have your room than your
company."

"Much good it would do you," replied Kylis, "because the pearl would go
with us."

"Will you hand it over?"

"For twenty pounds each, and twenty more when you sell it."

"I'll not give it. Hand it over," said Amos, savagely, drawing his
revolver.

"If you shoot you will never find it," said Kylis.

Amos levelled the weapon at him, and Miah slunk back to the other side
of the tent.

Kylis did not quail, he was certain Amos would not shoot.

"If you don't put the revolver down I'll smash the pearl," said the
black.

Amos lowered it and said, with an evil scowl--

"I have not so much money, I cannot give it you now. Listen to me. You
cannot sell the pearl, I can, what is the good of keeping it?"

Kylis knew this was correct. Amos had a far better chance of disposing
of it than they had.

"What will you give us?" asked Kylis.

"Ten pounds each, and twenty pounds each if I sell it for a good price."

Kylis called to Miah, who told him to take it.

They agreed to this, and Amos Hooker went to get the money, well
satisfied with his bargain, for he had no intention of giving them any
more money when he sold it.

When Amos left the tent Kylis said--

"We'll let him have it, I can get it back again."

"How?"

"Never mind. I'll have it or----"

"What?"

"I'll have his life. He's a brute."

Miah shivered, he knew Kylis would be as good as his word.

Amos came back with the money in gold, and placed it on a box.

"Now give me the pearl," he said. Kylis handed it to him, and snatched
up the money.

Amos Hooker looked at the pearl for some time; he was surprised at its
size and purity, he had never seen one like it before, it would be
difficult to dispose of.

There was one man he might get a fair price from, Silas Filey, but he
hardly knew how to approach him. Silas was acquainted with some of his
past life and could make things very unpleasant for him if he chose.

He left the tent with the pearl, satisfied that he had in his possession
a gem worth a thousand pounds at least. If he only ventured to Fremantle
with it and offered it for open sale he would get much more; this,
however, he dare not do.

How to communicate with Silas, that was the difficulty. He puzzled his
brains to think how it could be done. Should he send a man from Shark's
Bay to see him? There was no one he dare trust on such an errand, for
although he was recognised as "the boss," he was more hated than feared,
and there were none who would neglect an opportunity of benefiting
themselves at his expense.

Some weeks went by, and he still had the pearl safely hidden away, and
even Kylis had not been able to discover where it was concealed.
Schooners from Fremantle often put into Shark's Bay, and one evening the
"Swan" sailed in and anchored.

A boat came ashore from her, and a man inquired for Amos Hooker, and
handed him a letter.

It was from Silas Filey, and he read it with difficulty. When he had
fully understood its contents he flew into a furious passion. Silas had
taken the bull by the horns with a vengeance, he knew his man and wrote
accordingly. Had Barry Tuxford been at his elbow he might have gone
about it in a different way, but it would not have proved so effective.

The letter stated clearly that he, Silas Filey, had definite information
that Amos Hooker had in his possession a valuable black pearl, which had
been stolen from Jack Redland, on board the schooner "Heron," by a black
diver named Kylis. This diver had been sent out with the schooner to the
pearl fisheries, in company with another black, named Miah, for the
express purpose of committing a robbery, the proceeds of which were to
be handed over to Amos Hooker.

Having given him a shock that he knew would stagger him, Silas went on
to write--

"The black pearl must be handed over to the man who gives you this
letter, or the consequences will be serious. The case of the 'Mary
Hatchett' has not been forgotten in Fremantle, and there is such a thing
as being placed on trial for murder on the high seas. I know you and
your little games, Amos Hooker, and there is one of your intended
victims here now, who would be only too glad to give evidence against
you. The black steward of the 'Mary Hatchett' escaped, and he, too, is
here, ready to swear your life away. There is an open warrant for your
arrest out, and an officer on board the 'Swan' has it in his possession.
He does not know you are at Shark's Bay, but if you do not give up the
pearl my man has another letter which he will deliver to him; you can,
no doubt, guess what its contents are. Hand over the pearl without any
fuss and you shall receive one hundred pounds down and not a penny more.
If you are wise you will do as I ask."

Amos Hooker glanced at the man who handed him the letter, he would have
been glad to strangle him. He was in a tumult of rage and walked away to
think over the letter and try and control himself.

"How long shall you be?" shouted the man. "We cannot wait here."

"I'll be back in half an hour," said Amos.

"Mind you bring it with you," was the reply.

"He knows all about it," thought Amos, and then, with a sudden fear, he
muttered--

"He may be the man with the warrant. No, that's not likely, he'd remain
on board. A hundred pounds for a pearl worth thousands, it's shameful."

He gave no thought to the manner in which it came into his possession,
he grudged parting with it for such a paltry sum. It was, however, the
best thing to do, in fact the only way. He would clear eighty pounds,
which was better than nothing, and at the same time secure a powerful
friend in Silas Filey, who might be very useful at another time if he
chose. There was no help for it, no way out of the trap Silas had laid
for him. That old affair of the "Mary Hatchett," if stirred up, would
prove very bad for him, it might mean a halter round his neck, and there
was a man on the "Swan" empowered to take him into custody.

He took the black pearl from its hiding place, and handled it fondly.
What cursed luck it was to have to part with it in this way. No doubt
Silas had been set on by Barry Tuxford to get the pearl back, it was a
smart move on his part. He walked slowly back, and when he reached the
boat, called the man on one side.

"You are to hand over a hundred pounds to me."

"In exchange for a black pearl, which has been described to me, and
which I must see."

"Here it is."

The man examined it carefully, and was apparently satisfied with his
scrutiny.

"Here is the money," he said, giving Amos a small, heavy bag. "You can
count it if you like, but it is quite correct."

"It's a barefaced robbery, I have been forced into it," said Amos, in a
rage.

The man laughed, as he replied--

"The robbery is on the wrong side this time, you are the victim."

Amos Hooker showered curses upon him as the boat put off for the
schooner, with the precious pearl in the man's keeping.

Kylis came down to him, and Amos said--

"I have sold the pearl, here is the money," and he jangled the bag.

"How much?"

"One hundred pounds."

"You are a fool," said the black, savagely. "It is worth many hundreds."

"Which I could not get."

"We must have our share."

"Not a fraction," said Amos.

Contrary to his expectation the black walked away, and the evil look in
his eyes caused Amos some uneasiness.

He shook off the feeling, and went to his tent, which was at the
furthest end of the camp, away from that of the blacks.

He counted the gold, it was correct, one hundred pounds, neither more
nor less. Hiding it under his bed he lay down to rest, intending to be
up early in the morning and secure a safe place for it.

Kylis returned to his tent in a sullen mood, and Miah knew he was best
left alone.

In the middle of the night the black stole out of the tent, leaving Miah
asleep. He knew his way almost as well in the dark as by daylight.
Keeping well to the rear of the camp he approached the tent of Amos
Hooker noiselessly, carrying in his hand a big pearling knife. Lying on
the ground he listened intently, but heard no sound. Crawling snake-like
round the canvas he came to the opening, where he again stopped,
listening. He peered into the darkness, but saw nothing. Crawling inside
he felt his way cautiously, the slightest noise might rouse his intended
victim.

His hand felt the rough mattress on which Amos Hooker lay. Kylis stood
up, motionless, then bending down he found out how he lay by his
breathing. His eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness, and he saw
a faint outline of Hooker's form.

Suddenly, quickly, with a panther-like spring, Kylis was on top of the
sleeping man. His strong left hand felt for the throat, and caught it in
a grip of iron; the black raised his right hand and struck home at his
victim's heart. A faint gurgling sound was heard, a convulsive shudder,
and then Amos Hooker lay still for ever.

Kylis crawled about the tent hunting for the bag of gold. He dragged the
body off the bed, pulled it over, and in another minute had the bag in
his hand. He made his way out of the tent and disappeared in the
darkness.

Next morning Amos Hooker was found stabbed to the heart, and Kylis had
vanished.

Miah was questioned, but it was evident the terrified black knew nothing
about the deed. Search was made for the murderer, but there was not much
heart put into the work.

Some of the pearlers showed plainly they were not at all sorry Amos
Hooker was gone from their midst. He had bullied everyone in the
settlement and was generally disliked.

"I wonder what Kylis did it for," said one man.

"He had good reason for it, no doubt; Amos was a devil where blacks were
concerned," answered another.




CHAPTER TWENTIETH

_THE TRAINER'S SUGGESTION_


When Jack Redland and Barry Tuxford arrived in Sydney, it was arranged
that the former should go to Randwick and ascertain if Joel Kenley would
take charge of Lucky Boy.

"He will probably have received a letter from his brother about you,"
said Barry, "and that will serve as an introduction."

Nothing loath, Jack went by train and found his way to Joel Kenley's
house.

The trainer's stables were at lower Randwick, where he had a comfortable
house and about a score horse boxes. Jack was favourably impressed with
his first glimpse of the "Newmarket" of New South Wales. He saw the
racecourse as the train went past and wound at a steady pace up the
hill. He had no difficulty in finding Joel Kenley's, for the first man
he asked said, in reply to his question,--

"Know where Joel lives, I should say so, there's not many people
hereabouts do not know him."

"A celebrated trainer, is he?" asked Jack.

"You may well say that. He's won nearly all our big races at one time
and another, and he's about as clever as any man can be with horses."

Jack thought his informant looked like an old jockey, and was about to
ask him if his surmise was correct, when the man saved him the trouble
by saying with a smile,--

"I see you have sized me up. I was a well known rider fifteen years ago,
but I got too old fashioned, it's the young 'uns get all the luck in
these days."

"I was going to ask you if you were a jockey," said Jack. "It does seem
rather hard lines that a man who has given the best part of his life to
his work should be discarded when he is old. I suppose you made
sufficient to live on?"

The man shook his head as he replied,--

"There was not much chance, I got a fair amount of riding, but the fees
did not amount to much, it is different here to the old country, where a
jockey can earn thousands a year."

"I suppose so," said Jack.

"You are a new arrival here?"

"I am, I came out to Fremantle some months back."

"Fremantle? Then perhaps you know Mr. Tuxford--Barry Tuxford?"

Jack laughed as he replied--

"I ought to, he came here with me, we arrived the day before yesterday."

"That's strange now, very strange. He'll know me if you mention my
name--Bricky Smiles. I once rode a horse for him here, at Sydney, before
he was sent to Western Australia; it won, and I believe he backed it to
win a good deal more than he gave for it, at any rate I had a nice
present, he was more liberal than some owners I could name."

"I shall certainly tell him I met you," said Jack, "but I must hurry on,
I am anxious to see Mr. Kenley."

"I'll walk down the hill with you if you like," said Bricky.

"Do," replied Jack, "I shall be glad of your company."

There was a cool breeze blowing from Coogee Bay which made it pleasant
and refreshing, and Jack contrasted his present surroundings with those
of his pearl fishing experiences. He liked the look of the place, and
thought, as many have done before him, that Randwick is especially
favoured by Nature, and that a more suitable spot it would have been
hard to find for training quarters.

His companion watched him keenly, thinking to himself, "He's a good bred
one, I'll bet; a bit different to some of 'em we get out from the old
country."

Bricky Smiles had met many men in his time, and experience taught him to
pick and choose with discernment.

"That is Joel Kenley's house," he said, as they turned the corner at the
foot of the hill, and faced the wide clean road with neatly trimmed
hedges and pretty picturesque houses.

Joel Kenley's training stables were almost perfect in their appointment,
and since he had taken over command, he had been careful to keep
everything in order. Jack had seen many training establishments in the
old country, far more extensive than this, but he thought he had never
come across one that looked more business-like, or compact.

"I'll not go in with you," said Bricky, smiling. "Joel's a cut above me
now, although there was a time when he would have been very glad for me
to do him a turn."

"And has he forgotten that time?" asked Jack, in some surprise.

"No, I can't say he has; but as you are a visitor, he'll no doubt prefer
to see you alone. I daresay we shall meet again."

"Sure to," replied Jack, "and if I can be of any service to you, I shall
be only too pleased. I will not forget to tell Mr. Tuxford I met you."

They parted, and Jack walked up the path to the trainer's house. The
front door was open and a couple of fox terriers barked a welcome, as
well as a warning, for they quickly decided the visitor was a friend and
not an enemy.

Jack thought it all looked very home-like, and the barking of the
terriers recalled to mind his visits to The Downs, and the joyous capers
of Winifred's dogs as they sprang up at him and then careered wildly
round the lawn.

The trainer was sitting in the front room and came to the door before he
had time to knock.

Jack recognised him by his resemblance to his brother, and said with a
smile--

"You are Mr. Kenley, I think, I have not much hesitation in saying."

Joel Kenley held out his hand, and said--

"And if I am not mistaken you are Mr. Redland. I had a long letter from
my brother, Caleb, about you some months ago; where have you been all
this time? I have been expecting to see you, and wondered what had
become of you; however, come inside and make yourself quite at
home--that is, if you are Mr. Redland," he added, laughing.

"I am Jack Redland, and it is quite evident we meet as friends."

It was a pleasure to Jack to talk about the old places at home, and Joel
asked many questions about his brother. "We have been parted a good many
years," he said, "and our letters have been few and far between; a
trainer's life does not leave him much leisure for correspondence. I
recollect Lewes well, and also The Downs. Sir Lester Dyke was a fine
English gentleman."

"He is one of my best friends," replied Jack, "probably the best, and
your brother has been very successful in training his horses. He does
not keep many, but what he has are usually of a good class, and pay
their way."

"Which is more than can be said for the majority of racehorses," laughed
Joel. "Caleb was always a cute fellow, even as a youngster, and got the
better of me on many occasions."

"I rode a winner for Sir Lester just before I sailed for Fremantle,"
said Jack; "Topsy Turvy in the Southdown Welter; it was a lucky race for
me in every way."

"My brother mentions it in his letter, in fact told me all about it, and
also that you were one of the best amateur riders in England. We must
try and get you a mount or two here, I suppose you have no objections?"

"On the contrary, I shall be only too pleased to be in the saddle again.
I have been pearl fishing in Western Australia; it was all right for a
time, very interesting as an experiment, but I should not care to stick
at it long," said Jack.

Joel Kenley laughed as he replied--

"There's a vast difference between pearl fishing and horse riding, I am
afraid you will require some practice. Come out into Randwick track in
the early morning, and I will give you a mount on something that will
take you along at a fair pace."

This suited Jack immensely, and he broached the subject of Lucky Boy,
and of Barry Tuxford's desire for Joel Kenley to take him into his
stable if he had room and no objections.

For a moment the trainer hesitated, then he said--

"I have several patrons, but I do not think any of them will mind my
taking the horse. Owners have become ticklish of late, and do not care
for strangers bringing an odd horse or two into their camp; however, I
can make it all right with them, and Mr. Tuxford may send Lucky Boy here
as soon as he likes. What sort of a horse is he?"

"I have ridden him in two or three gallops, and consider him a very fair
horse indeed. He's a stayer and has plenty of pace, a good bay, four
years old, full of bone and muscle; he's a trifle on the big side now,
anyway I think you will like him. He may not be equal to taking the
measure of your cracks, although Barry is sanguine he will."

Joel Kenley smiled as he said,--

"I have never seen a horse for that part of the Colonies that was
capable of holding his own with our lot. If there is anything to work on
in Lucky Boy, I'll get it out of him, you may rest assured of that. If I
may venture on a word of advice, I think you ought to buy another horse
to lead him in his work and act as a sort of second string in case Lucky
Boy cannot run at any time."

"A very good idea," replied Jack. "I should like to buy a second string,
as you aptly call it, if you will take charge of him--but that would be
bringing another stranger into the stable," he added, laughing.

"Never mind that," replied the trainer. "When I have found out the sort
of horse Lucky Boy is, I shall be better able to advise you what kind of
a second string you require. I can arrange for trials with some of the
other horses later on, but, in the first place, it will be better to
have a companion for him in his work. I should not advise you to fly at
too high game at first, take a feeler and see what we can safely do."

Jack recognised this advice as sound and agreed with it; he thought how
Joel Kenley resembled his brother in his ways and mode of going to
work--cautious, yet having plenty of pluck at the right time. After a
round of the stables, where he saw some of the cracks of the Colony, he
left again for Sydney, promising to be on the track next morning with
Barry Tuxford.

Joel Kenley was very pleased with his visitor, and glad to make his
acquaintance.

"There's grit in him," he thought. "He looks as though he could ride a
determined finish, and when I see how he shapes at exercise, I'll take
good care he has a mount on one that will do him credit. Barry Tuxford's
a rum customer, and I have heard some funny tales about him; but he must
be a straight goer, or young Redland would not take him on."

"Well, what luck?" asked Barry as Jack entered their room in the hotel.

"Good luck; could not be better. Joel Kenley is one of the right sort,
he says he will take Lucky Boy into his stable and you can send him
along as soon as you like."

"That's good," said Barry, well satisfied, "we shall know the horse is
in safe hands."

Jack then explained what the trainer had suggested about a second string
to lead Lucky Boy in his work, and also to run in races if necessary.

"A second string!" exclaimed Barry. "It sounds a bit like pearls, a
string of 'em. I wonder if you will get hold of the black pearl for that
charming young lady you think so much about. I have had a good many
strings of pearls through my hands."

"I hope I shall get it," said Jack. "I have set my heart on having that
black pearl, it will bring us luck, I feel sure."

"If anyone can recover it, it will be Silas. He's an old thief, but
he'll be straight with me, and he knows how to handle such men as Amos
Hooker; he will deal with him in a way of his own that will probably
surprise us."

It would have surprised them had they known what had taken place at
Shark's Bay, and the fate of Amos Hooker, also that the black pearl was
safe in the hands of Silas Filey.

Almost at the moment they were conversing about it, Silas Filey had the
black pearl in his hands, and his eyes were fixed upon it with a greedy
fascination that was unmistakable. The pearl had been delivered into his
keeping and it was not for sale. He had promised to get it for Jack
Redland and Barry Tuxford, and had done so.

The spirit of the pearl buyer, the dealer, the judge of such precious
treasures, was roused on him as he looked at it. He knew it to be a
pearl of almost fabulous value, he had never seen one so perfectly
flawless, and he desired to possess it with an intensity of feeling
known only to the men who deal in such things.

He would not let it go without a struggle; he would offer a big sum for
it, not as much as it was worth, but sufficient to tempt a man in Jack
Redland's position. Barry Tuxford would probably ask him to place a
value upon it for Jack Redland to pay; if so, it should be reasonable,
allowing for him a substantial margin so that he could give a
considerable advance upon it in case Jack was induced to sell it.

Silas Filey misjudged his man, he little knew Jack Redland's determined
character, or his sterling honesty, which would forbid him, in any case,
to profit at the expense of others.




CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST

_BRICKY FINDS A JOB_


Lucky Boy went into Joel Kenley's stables at Randwick, and no one raised
any objection.

Strange to say, it was Bricky Smiles who took the horse to Randwick.
Jack Redland found him hanging about the yards in Pitt Street, where the
horse was boxed, and in the course of conversation mentioned that Lucky
Boy was going into Kenley's stable.

"Is he sending for him?" asked Bricky with an eye to a job.

"No; we are to deliver him there," replied Jack.

"Will you let me take him? I will be very careful," said Bricky, "and I
know how to handle horses better than the lads about here."

"Certainly," replied Jack, without any hesitation. He had taken a fancy
to Bricky, and was glad to do him a turn, no matter how small. "You must
be on your guard, for he's a bit skittish, and a trifle fresh and above
himself just now."

"Leave it to me; I'll see he comes to no harm."

"We ought to have someone to look after him at Kenley's. I never thought
of it at the time, and it will be hardly fair to ask him to lend us one
of his lads. How would you like to do it? I don't suppose Mr. Kenley
would have any objection."

Bricky's eyes sparkled. Here was a chance he had not expected, and he
jumped at it. He thought he could induce Joel Kenley to let him remain
if it was the desire of Lucky Boy's owner he should do so.

"I shall be very glad of the job," said Bricky. "It is a long time since
I had such an offer, but I am used to the work, and will do my best for
you."

"I am sure you will," replied Jack, "and I will write a letter to Kenley
and name the matter to him."

This he did, and handed it to Bricky when he took charge of Lucky Boy.

The old jockey led the horse very carefully, and admired him when he saw
how well he walked. As they passed through Randwick numerous stable boys
looked at him, and recognising a strange horse, called out to Bricky and
asked his name.

Bricky was not a favourite with the younger generation, and they were
apt to tease him and make fun at his expense, forgetting that he knew a
good deal more than they were ever likely to learn. He answered them
sharply, telling them to mind their own business and find out.

This nettled them, and one lad more venturesome than the others
shouted--

"So you've found somebody to trust you at last, Brick; I hope they'll
not be sorry for it."

"Shut up, you young scoundrel," shouted Bricky. "If I could leave the
horse I'd give you a hiding."

There was a general laugh of derision at this, which did not improve
Bricky's temper, and another boy called out--

"I'll hold the horse while you give it him."

Bricky was moving on, out of the way of his tormentors, when someone
threw a stone and frightened Lucky Boy. The horse plunged, and almost
dragged the reins out of his hand. He tried to pacify him, but had some
difficulty in doing so. It so happened that Joel Kenley was riding along
at the time, and seeing what occurred he dismounted, handed his horse to
a bystander, and before the lad who had thrown the stone was aware of
it, he was in the trainer's grip.

The boy wriggled and endeavoured to get away, but it was not until he
had received a sound thrashing that he was allowed to go. The trainer
coolly remounted and rode after Bricky, leaving the small group of boys
cowed and sullen, and vowing vengeance upon both of them.

"Whose horse is that?" he asked as he came up with him.

"Mr. Tuxford's, and I am taking him to your stables."

"That's curious; it was lucky I came up when I did, or he might have got
away from you. So that's Lucky Boy, is it? He does not look a bad sort;
a better quality than I expected."

The trainer watched the horse carefully as they went down the hill, and
the more he saw of his movements the better he liked him.

When they arrived at the stables Bricky handed Jack's note to the
trainer, and scrutinised his face as he read it.

"He wants you to stay and look after the horse," said Joel. "We have no
room, but I daresay you can sleep out."

"I'll manage that if you'll allow me to attend to him," said Bricky
eagerly.

"It is some time since you undertook work of this kind?"

"But you know I can look after a horse as well if not better than some
of the younger ones."

"Yes, I think you can, and I would far sooner have you in my stable than
a stranger. Bring him round to this box."

Lucky Boy was installed in comfortable quarters, and the head lad was
informed that Bricky Smiles would look after him.

"And see that the lads do not chaff him," said the trainer. "If they do,
report to me, and I will soon settle with them."

"Very good, sir," replied the head lad, who respected his master, and
kept a firm hold over the boys.

Bricky at once set to work and strapped Lucky Boy well, and when he had
finished his task, stood looking at him with much satisfaction.

Fred Manns, the head lad, smiled as he saw him, and said--

"You have not forgotten how to work, Bricky, and I daresay you have not
forgotten how to ride. I know when I was a youngster you were considered
the equal of any of our jockeys. You've had bad luck, old fellow; this
may bring about a change if the horse turns out a good one. Where does
he come from, and who owns him?"

It was evident Joel Kenley was not communicative, or there would have
been no occasion to put these questions. As it was Fred Manns who asked
them, Bricky was quite willing to supply the information, which he did.

"Comes from Western Australia!" said Fred in surprise. "That's a deuce
of a way to bring a horse. I should have thought it would have paid
better to race him there, much easier to win than it will be here."

"I do not think it is a matter of money with either Barry Tuxford or Mr.
Redland. They brought the horse over because they are true sportsmen and
want to see what he can do against some of our lot. I hope they will be
rewarded for their pluck with a good win."

"So do I," replied Fred. "They are the sort of men we want about us;
there's too much of the money-making about most of them, and when they
get a haul it's precious little of it comes our way."

"Then you find your jobs not all pleasure and profit?" said Bricky
smiling.

"It's anything but that. The boss is all right, a real good sort, but
some of the owners are desperate skinflints."

"You'll find a difference with the owner of Lucky Boy if he wins a
race," said Bricky. "I'm open to bet he gives tips all round if he has a
win, and liberal ones too."

"Do you know him?"

"Yes, I rode a race or two for him years ago, but I have not seen him
since he went away. Mr. Redland I only met quite accidentally as he was
coming to see the boss, but I am sure he is a genuine good fellow. It
was he gave me the chance to look after Lucky Boy."

The new arrival at Kenley's stables went out with the team to exercise
at Randwick next morning, and Jack Redland and Barry Tuxford were on the
course. After mutual greetings, the trainer suggested Jack should mount
Lucky Boy and give him a canter, and then a fast mile spin with a couple
of others.

Nothing loath, Jack was soon ready, and Joel Kenley's practised eyes
quickly saw he had a good seat. The appearance of a strange rider, more
especially an amateur, caused some comment amongst the lookers on, and
there were many inquiries to learn who he was.

Lucky Boy moved somewhat stiffly, as this was his first exercise canter
after the voyage, but it quickly wore off, and by the time the trainer
gave instructions for the gallop the horse was eager to be off. The
going was good, and Jack admired all the surroundings--the hills, the
houses at Randwick, and the distant view of famous Botany Bay.

The horses sent out to accompany Lucky Boy were not of a very high
class, but both had won handicaps at Moorefield, Canterbury, and
elsewhere. Jack soon found he would not have much difficulty in beating
them, and this he did comfortably and with judgment.

As they pulled up, Joel Kenley said to Barry Tuxford--

"I think you have a very fair horse, and I am sure your friend is a good
rider. I shall have no hesitation in putting him up when I have an
opportunity."

This pleased Barry, who said--

"I hope to win a good race with Lucky Boy, and I know Jack will be
delighted to have a winning mount."

The boys who had ridden with Jack were not long in telling their stable
companions that the new chum was "no slouch," and that he could ride
"above a bit." As to Lucky Boy, they were not much impressed with his
merits, as the horses they had ridden against him were not first class.

"The next thing we have to do is to purchase the second string," said
Jack smiling.

"And I think I have hit upon the very horse for you if he can be
bought," replied the trainer. "You see that dark brown over there
cantering alongside Bowery?"

They looked in the direction pointed out, and saw the horses he alluded
to.

"That's Black Boy. He's very useful; five years old, thoroughly
reliable, no vice, and an excellent schoolmaster. If they'll sell him he
is just the horse for you. He can win a welter race and you can ride him
yourself."

They watched the horse as he went past, and Jack was favourably
impressed. There was a "cut and come again" look about him that argued
well for his courage.

"What is he worth?" he asked.

"They are sure to ask a stiff price if they know we want him. He's not
in very good hands, and I have had my doubts about his running on more
than one occasion lately. I am under the impression they have been
bottling him up, and if I am correct, you might get a better race out of
him than many people would anticipate. No blame would attach to us; the
change of stables would account for the reversal of form; but, of
course, if it is as I surmise, it will put his price up. Black Boy is
honestly worth about three hundred; they will probably ask five, and you
may get him for something over four hundred."

"Will you try and buy him?" asked Jack.

"I had better keep out of it. If they think I want the horse they will
not sell. I am not in their good books, and have no desire to be; they
are not my class, but that has nothing whatever to do with the merits of
the horse."

"No, of course not," answered Jack, "but can you get anyone to approach
them for us?"

"Why not let me try?" said Barry, laughing. "I generally succeed in my
undertakings, and I fancy I can manage it. They'll probably take me for
a greenhorn."

The trainer laughed as he replied--

"They will not do that."

"There's very little of the greenhorn look about you," said Jack, "but
try if you wish, although I do not know how you will work it."

"Leave that to me," replied Barry. "I can always find out ways and means
of becoming acquainted with anyone I wish to know."

It was decided that negotiations for the purchase of Black Boy should be
left in Barry's hands, and he was not long in making a move in the
desired direction.

The next day he told Jack he knew Abe Moss, the owner of the horse, that
he was introduced to him in Tattersall's, and that in the course of a
day or two he would broach the question as to whether Black Boy was for
sale.

"I have given a hint that I wish to buy one or two horses, and I saw
Moss took it; he's a keen hand, and thinks he'll make a bit out of me.
We shall see," added Barry, with a wink.




CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND

_BLACK BOY'S OWNER_


Whatever Abe Moss's opinion of Barry Tuxford might be, that astute
gentleman had his own way, and purchased Black Boy for four hundred and
fifty pounds. Jack Redland was satisfied, so was Joel Kenley, who
remarked that it was quite evident Barry Tuxford was fully equal to half
a dozen men like Abe Moss.

"I'm not so sure of that," said Barry. "He's sharp enough, and I fancy
he thinks he has got a good price for the horse. He asked me if I had
any objections to letting him know when the horse was going out to win,
and I said none at all, for the first time he started he would do his
best."

"And what did Moss say?" asked the trainer.

"He smiled and looked cunning, as much as to say--

"'You need not tell that fairy tale to me, you are not the man to run a
horse out when the money is not on.'"

"I think that is probably correct," laughed Joel; then seeing Barry's
countenance change, he added quickly--

"I mean what Moss thought, not that his opinion was correct."

Black Boy was handed over to Barry Tuxford, and consigned to the care of
Bricky Smiles, at Kenley's stables. Bricky commenced to feel important
again, he had two horses to look after, and this was a move in the right
direction.

Joel Kenley was amused at him, and satisfied with his work in every way,
in fact he acknowledged to Jack that a better man could not have been
found for the job.

"It has given him a new lease of life," said the trainer, "and he'll be
quite a different man in a few weeks."

Joel Kenley was not long in ascertaining whether his surmise as to Black
Boy having been "bottled up" was correct. He tried him well, and was
surprised at the result. He kept his knowledge to himself until he had
given the horse a "dust up" with Lucky Boy. Again the result was a
surprise, for the Western horse won rather easily at level weights.

Joel was a trifle puzzled. He had discovered that Black Boy would
probably be weighted at a stone below his proper form in the next big
handicap, and he was quite sure Lucky Boy would be leniently treated, as
handicappers usually, and sometimes foolishly, regarded these
"outsiders" with a contempt that was not deserved.

The trainer chuckled quietly to himself as he contemplated the bringing
off of one or two good coups. He dearly loved the excitement attending
such proceedings, and although he would have scorned to order a horse to
be "pulled," he had no objections to benefit by the hoodwinking of a
handicapper.

Somehow Joel regarded handicappers as his natural enemies, and had
frequently fallen foul of them, and asked for an explanation of the
weights placed upon his horses. On several instances it was acknowledged
that he had good grounds for his grievance, and this did not improve the
temper of the handicappers.

Although his horses ran in and out, as most horses will, there was no
suspicion against him, and his reputation for honesty stood high. It was
different with Abe Moss, who was regarded as a very smart customer
indeed, and when it became known that a new patron of Joel's stable had
purchased Black Boy there was a general winking of eyes, and nodding of
heads, amongst the "knowing ones."

The opinion of these would-be clever men was that Abe Moss would not
have parted with Black Boy had the horse been any good. They were a
little disappointed, because they had been carefully watching Black
Boy's running, and had come to the conclusion some of his performances
were "very hot" indeed, and they meant to reap the benefit of their
observations when "the money was on." Their time had been wasted, their
opinions must have been utterly wrong, for had Abe Moss been "keeping"
Black Boy for a particular race he would not have sold him.

In this they were wrong. Abe Moss was by no means inclined to play shady
games for the benefit of others. He had of late received several hints
that if Black Boy suddenly showed greatly improved form he might be
called upon to have an unpleasant interview with the stewards of the
Jockey Club. Abe had a pious horror of stewards, he considered them
superfluities, and said they were appointed to prevent honest men
earning a decent living. As racing meant income to Abe Moss, he had no
desire to be "warned off," and this was probably what would happen if
Black Boy suddenly developed into a good handicap horse.

When Barry Tuxford came along with the avowed intention of purchasing a
couple of horses, Abe Moss fancied he saw a way out of the difficulty.
He argued that if he sold Black Boy to a new comer, and the horse won a
big race he, knowing the true form, could back him, and yet not be
called upon to explain. This was the reason he parted with Black Boy,
and asked to be given the information as to when the horse "was going."

It was a surprise to Abe when he knew Black Boy had gone into Joel
Kenley's stable. He had a great respect for Joel as a trainer, none for
him as a man. He knew it would not take him long to find out that Black
Boy was a great deal better horse than his form made out. Judging others
by himself, he came to the conclusion that when Joel made this discovery
he would keep it dark and profit by it, in which case he, Abe Moss,
stood a very good chance of being left "out in the cold" when Black Boy
won. He was half inclined to give a hint to Barry Tuxford as to the true
state of affairs, but he did not know him sufficiently well, and it was
not safe to run risks.

Joel Kenley had some inkling as to the truth of all this when he tried
Black Boy. He surmised that Abe Moss had sold the horse, with a full
knowledge of what he was capable of, in order to avoid serious
consequences when he won. He told Barry Tuxford and Jack everything, and
also what he suspected was Abe's object in selling.

"Then we have two much better horses than we expected," said Barry,
"that is satisfactory, at any rate. I hope Lucky Boy will turn out the
best."

Jack laughed as he replied--

"My purchase will beat yours, Barry; the second string will win."

"We shall see," he replied, good humouredly. "How would it be to run
them both in a big race and let them take their chance?"

"There is not much to be gained by that," said Joel, "unless one is put
in to make the running for the other. In any case, I would like to let
Abe Moss down, he deserves it."

"No favourite of yours, eh?" asked Barry.

"No, he's about as big a rogue as we have on the turf. He bribes our
young lads and ruins half of them, he's not fit to mix in honest men's
society."

"In that case I have no objection to falling in with any plan you may
suggest for keeping him in the dark, but we must play no games with the
public."

Joel Kenley laughed as he replied--

"The public are apt to jump too quickly to conclusions, which are very
often wrong and unjust, and when you commence to look after their
affairs you take on a thankless task."

"Nevertheless, there must be no suspicion about any of our
transactions," said Barry.

After a long conversation it was decided to enter both Lucky Boy and
Black Boy for the Sydney Cup, and to run them both in two or three races
before that date.

"The Cup takes a tremendous lot of winning," said the trainer, "and I
tell you candidly I do not think either of your horses good enough for
it at present. They will improve, no doubt, at least I hope so, and
probably Lucky Boy will be the better of the pair."

"What do you think of that?" said Barry, laughing.

"Time will tell," replied Jack. "I have a presentiment Black Boy will
win the Cup outright."

"You are sanguine," said the trainer, smiling.

"I am, and if he wins I believe I shall also secure the black pearl,"
said Jack.

"You are more likely to secure the pearl than the Cup," said Barry.

It was not long after this that Barry Tuxford received a letter from
Silas Filey telling him that the black pearl was safe in his keeping,
that it was a beauty, one of the best he had ever seen, and he wished he
owned it. He requested him to put a price upon it, or allow him to make
an offer for it. He made no mention of Amos Hooker's death, as he was
not aware of it. There were sundry private matters touched upon, but the
gist of the whole letter was an endeavour to obtain the black pearl at a
fair price.

Barry handed the letter to Jack, who was overwhelmed with delight at its
recovery, and was for sending at once to Silas to forward it to Sydney,
so that he could send it to Winifred without delay.

Barry laughed at his impetuosity, and replied that the pearl was far too
valuable to pass through the post, and that he must possess his soul in
patience until they returned to Fremantle.

"The best plan will be to let Silas value it, and then you can pay over
the balance after deducting your share. He will put a fair marketable
price upon it, that I will impress upon him."

"But will it be safe in his hands, he seems to covet it?" said Jack.
"You say he is an old thief. I dare not trust him."

"He will not play me false for many reasons," replied Barry, "and you
may rest satisfied the pearl is quite safe."

"I shall not be content until I handle it again," said Jack.

He wrote a long letter to Winifred, in which he gave her a full account
of the adventures of the black pearl, which he one day hoped to place in
her possession. He then went on to describe their doings in Sydney and
told her about Black Boy and Lucky Boy, and what they intended doing
with them. He asked her to tell Sir Lester that if Black Boy turned out
well the horse would carry the black jacket and orange sleeves in the
Cup. He made many inquiries about the old places at home, and at the end
hinted at what lay nearest his heart. He wrote hopefully of the future,
and said he felt certain of securing a considerable amount of money in
the course of a year or two. "So far all my ventures have turned out
well, thanks to my good friend and adviser, Barry Tuxford, and there is
no reason why my good fortune should not continue. I long for the time
when I shall see you again, and wonder if I shall find you changed in
looks and sentiments towards myself. I lay the flattering unction to my
soul that you do like me just a little bit more than other people," and
so on.

If he could have seen Winifred's face when she was reading his letter he
would have had no hesitation in taking her in his arms, as he did once
before, and kissing her. Her eyes glowed with the growing love she had
for him, and her joy was unbounded.

When her father returned home he laughed and said--

"There is no need to tell me you have had some good news, Win. Is it a
letter from Jack. What does he say? How is he? Is he prospering? When is
he coming home? Bless the lad, how I miss him."

Winifred laughed heartily as Sir Lester poured forth his string of
questions.

"Give me time, father," she said, "and I will read you his letter."

They went out on to the terrace, and there she read him what Jack had
written.

Sir Lester listened, and as she read his face softened.

She did not falter as she read the words of love which seemed to breathe
between the lines. She was so very happy, she fancied it was his voice
she heard, the paper was alive with a warm glow, she would not have been
at all surprised had he suddenly appeared before her.

"I wish he would come back, Win," said her father, when she concluded,
"we ought never to have let him go."

"It is for the best," she said, "and he will come back. Then,
father--oh, then----" and she hid her face on his shoulder.

"What then, Win?" he asked, gently, as he stroked her hair.




CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD

_BARRY WAXES ELOQUENT_


Barry Tuxford did not confine his attention to racing while in Sydney.
He knew there were far more profitable games for making money, and being
an old hand at most of them he speculated in various concerns, inducing
Jack to follow his lead. They had no news of the pearling fleet, but
this was not to be expected, as there were very few means of
communication. There was, however, no cause for uneasiness with two such
men as Danks and Hake in command, and Harry Marton to superintend.

Jack often thought of Harry and wondered what he was doing. He fancied
it was rather like desertion to leave him, but Barry quickly dispelled
this idea and said Harry was far more fitted for the task he was engaged
upon than knocking about Sydney.

"It would not suit him here," he said, "and as you know, he has a horror
of stocks and shares, which I do not wonder at, after the experiences
his father had. I have more good news, Jack," he added, as he tossed him
a letter to read.

Jack read it eagerly, and could hardly believe in his good luck. The
Great Tom Mine had again struck it rich, and the shares had gone up by
leaps and bounds; there was every prospect of his being a comparatively
rich man in a very short time.

"And that's not all," said Barry, "I cabled to my agent in Perth, to buy
every share he could secure at a certain price. That was before the new
find, and he secured a nice parcel. You stand in of course."

"I could not think of it," said Jack, "it would not be fair, you have
done too much for me already."

"Not at all; it is a pleasure to help a man like you; there are some
fellows I would not lend a hand to at any price, but you are different.
I am old enough to be your father, and damn me, if I don't feel
something like that towards you," he added in an outburst of genuine
feeling such as he seldom displayed.

Jack felt strangely drawn towards the bluff good-hearted Colonial. He
had found out his true worth and knew him for what he was. There were
men who almost hated Barry, but it was because he fought fair and
square, and managed to beat them despite their underhand methods.

"I'm a lonely sort of man," went on Barry, "always have been, and I
expect always shall be. I never 'cottoned' to a fellow as I have done to
you, and I don't mind telling you, if you stick to me I'll see you all
right, no matter what happens."

This was too much for Jack Redland. He grasped his friend's hand, and
wrung it hard, but he did not speak. He could not. He knew every word
Barry spoke he meant and there was a strange knocking at his heart as he
looked at him.

"I'm an old fool, I know I am to rave like this," said Barry, "but I
can't help it, and that's a fact. I've roamed about the world a lot,
roughed it, and it's taken the gilt edges off, if there were ever any
on; but you've knocked me all of a heap, Jack. Don't talk about my luck,
it's yours that has stuck to me. I have had nothing but good fortune
since I met you. My first pearling venture turned out a frost. You come
along, and what do we get? We not only rummage out old Jacob Rank on his
desert island, or whatever it may be, and rescue him, but we find a heap
of pearls, a mighty lot of good shells, the best black pearl ever hauled
out on the northern coast, and to cap all, we have a deal with that old
shark, Silas Filey, that licks creation. Don't talk to me about luck,
you're a regular living mascot, that's what you are."

The tension was relieved at this outburst, and Jack laughed heartily.

"Keep it up, skipper," he said, merrily. "Now you are under full sail
let her go; I like to hear you, it does me good; it's as refreshing as a
blow on the Sussex Downs. Don't let the wind drop yet, Barry, please
don't."

"Stow your chaff and listen to me," said Barry, now thoroughly wound up.
He was on the tide of a big success, and felt the force of it. "You came
out here to make a fortune, and by Captain Cook, you shall get it. When
you landed at Fremantle there was no hanky panky about you. Then you
were a born gentleman, a swell. Oh, you needn't remonstrate! I'm not a
wall-eyed kangaroo, or a burst-up emu. Oh, dear no! nothing of the sort!
I'm Barry Tuxford, knockabout, good for nothing, up to everything, and I
know a swell when I see one, although it has not been my fortune to meet
many.

"I'm a Colonial, have always been fond of a rough life, but I know what
it means for a man of your stamp to tackle a God-forsaken pearl fishing
job. I liked you when you buckled to and never grumbled, and I admired
your pluck when you planked down the money for those shares. I have seen
men who call themselves swells do dirty mean tricks no straight man
would be guilty of. They are not my sort. I couldn't sit down to eat my
meals with a lot of swollen-headed nobodies. That's not my way. Let a
man say what he thinks and speak out straight, then you know where you
are. Judging from what I've seen, there must be some fine schools for
liars in the old country; they seem educated up to it somehow."

He paused for a few moments, and Jack said--

"There are good and bad in every country. You must not judge us all by
the worst samples."

"I forgive 'em since I met you," went on Barry. "In the old days on the
gold fields we had a lively time, and no mistake. I was a lonely man
there, although I had one good pal at first. He had a failing--he liked
the drink and the girls, and any painted gazelle that came along could
take all he had. But he was a thundering good pal to me."

Again he stopped, and a far-away look came into his eyes. He was
recalling memories of the past, and they stirred him as they will always
do men who have seen things and not gained their knowledge from talk.

Jack waited, and presently he went on--

"A real pal was Jake Morley, but as I said before, weak; and a perfect
fool when the 'hell fire' they served out in the grog shanties was in
him. What poison it was, brewed in the Devil's own vat, I should say,
and it sent men wild and burned up both body and brains, when they had
any. When Jake went I was lonely. He was as tender as a woman to me. I
got sick, down with the fever, and there was precious little for us in
camp, and what there was did more harm than good. Men fought and robbed,
aye, and killed, too, for food in those days, and a man's life was not
worth as much as a horse's. Jake stood by me all that time, some weeks,
so I heard, and he got food somehow and somewhere. When I came round he
made light of the whole thing, and went on a 'burst.' I didn't see him
for days, when I found him he was at the bottom of a shaft with his neck
broken. Drink, of course; that was what they put it down to, but I
didn't. I had my own notions. A shove in the dark was easy, and he had
enemies. I got even with one of them."

"Did you----" commenced Jack.

"No; I never killed a man, although I might easily have done so in
self-defence, and no blame to me. There was gold then, heaps of it. The
Great Tom Mine is a trifle to it; but it was harder to get, and there
was no machinery.

"I did fairly well, but I soon sold out after Jake was gone; I couldn't
somehow cotton to the others, thinking as I did one of them had done for
him.

"But I was going to tell you we are in for a big thing--bigger than the
Great Tom. I got off the track, my memory runs away with me at times; I
hope you do not mind it?"

"I wish it would run away more frequently," said Jack smiling.

"I don't mind telling you things," said Barry, "but there are some men I
would not open my mind to. Read that."

Jack took the paper; it was torn and dirty, and there was a lot of
scrawling writing on it. With difficulty he made out the words, but
failed to grasp the full extent of the meaning.

Barry watched him, smiling all the time, and said quietly--

"Hand it back, I'll translate it for you. It is from a man I employ to
go out prospecting, and he's struck new ground about a hundred miles
from the Great Tom Mine. It is rich, precious rich, and we are going to
have the pitch, my friend. You can put all the 'ready' you have on to
it, and I'll do the rest. Keep enough for your stay here, of course, but
this is a big affair, and we must not miss it. I know my man, and can
trust him; he never goes wrong, and he doesn't tell lies. He says the
country is richer than the Great Tom. Do you know what that means?"

Jack gasped, "Richer than the Great Tom. Impossible!" he exclaimed.

"All things are possible in gold hunting," said Barry. "I shouldn't
wonder if there was a nugget as big as a horse's head, only no one has
had the luck to find it yet. It means hundreds of thousands of pounds,
my young friend, it means that we are going to scoop the pool, and that
we are not going to lose our heads, or go frantic, or howl out to the
multitude how clever we are, and that other men are mere fools to us.
Dear me, no, we are going to sit tight. I'm not even going to wire. I
don't like wires, they leak," said Barry, with a laugh.

"Then what are you going to do? How are you going to communicate with
him?" asked Jack.

"I am going myself," was the quiet reply.

"What!" exclaimed Jack.

"Fact; quite true, I assure you. There's a steamer leaves in the
morning, and I'm off. We must not lose a chance, and I am the only man
to attend to this affair. You can remain here and see after the horses,
win the Sydney Cup; do what you like; but I must go. There's no help for
it, and if you'll think for a moment you will see I am right."

Jack knew he was acting for the best, but he was sorry almost that the
find had been discovered. He also knew what a keen disappointment it
would be to Barry to miss seeing the horses run.

"It is a jolly shame," said Jack.

"Never mind that; I consider we are in luck's way. We shall be pulling
the string at both ends and may land a big double. I would not miss this
chance for anything. You want a fortune. You came out here for one, and
by the powers you shall have it."

"Listen to me, Jack; you shall go home and marry the girl of your heart.
I don't care whether her father is a Duke or a Marquis, or what he is.
You shall have her, if we have to buy him over with thousands. There's
more than that if this thing pans out all right, as it must. I'll go
with you to beard the lion in his den; how will that fit in?"

"You mean it?" said Jack. "You will return to England with me?"

"Honour bright."

"Then I am glad this has happened. I would sooner have you as my
companion on my return than any man, and Sir Lester will give you a
hearty English welcome."

"He'll not take to a fellow like me."

"That he will. He's not a man to stand on his dignity where Barry
Tuxford is concerned. You shall be my best man at the wedding, is that a
bargain?"

"You're hurrying up," laughed Barry. Jack joined in his merriment and
said--

"It is your fault, you are always hurrying; and I have got into your
way."

"Don't forget while I am away to keep all this dark. You are sure to be
asked hundreds of questions when they know I have gone. You'll have to
rack your brains to concoct some cock and bull story for them, but I
have no doubt you will succeed."

Barry was not long in making his preparations, and next morning he had
left Sydney without anyone being aware of it.

Jack felt in the same condition as Barry had done when he lost his pal
Jake--he was lonely.




CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH

_BADLY RIDDEN_


Such a man as Barry Tuxford was quickly missed in the circles he
frequented in Sydney, and twenty-four hours had not elapsed since his
departure, when Jack Redland was bombarded with questions as to his
whereabouts. He found some difficulty in answering them, but parried
thrusts in such a clever manner as would have aroused Barry's
enthusiasm. It was with Joel Kenley he had most difficulty. Barry's
instructions were clear: "Tell no one where I have gone." This, of
course, included the trainer, although Barry had probably not meant such
to be the case. At first Jack was inclined to tell him everything, but
on second thoughts abandoned the idea.

He explained, as well as he could, that Barry had been suddenly called
away on business of importance and might not be back for some weeks,
also that he had left him in sole charge of the horses.

"It seems strange," said Joel. "He might have told me he was leaving
Sydney."

"He had no time," replied Jack, "or I am sure he would have done so. I
quite understand your thinking it a strange proceeding, but I hope you
have confidence enough in me to act as we may think best."

"Certainly I have," replied Joel. "I know more of you than Mr. Tuxford,
but naturally my curiosity is roused, and I should like to know where he
is; however, if you are not at liberty to tell me it makes little
difference."

"Do me a favour," said Jack. "Ask no more questions about him, and
whatever you think keep it to yourself."

This the trainer promised to do, and Jack said that in due time he
should be placed in possession of all the facts concerning Barry's
sudden disappearance. They then discussed the coming racing season, and
finally decided Jack should ride Lucky Boy in the Welter race at
Rosehill.

This was to be run on the following Saturday, and some very fair horses
were entered. The race was for amateur riders, approved by the Stewards,
and professionals were allowed to be put up with seven pounds extra.

Lucky Boy had done well during the short time he had been at Randwick,
and Joel Kenley commenced to think he was a much better horse than he
anticipated. The Rosehill Welter would give him a good line to go upon.
He did not expect the horse would win, and candidly said so to Jack, but
he expected him to make a creditable display.

"It will be a good mount for you at any rate," he said, "and you can
keep your eyes open and see what the others are doing."

There was a big crowd at the popular suburban course, and when the
Rosehill Handicap had been decided, the Welter was the next race on the
card.

Considerable curiosity was aroused as to how the new arrival from
Western Australia would shape, and also as lo how Jack Redland would
handle him. He had decided to ride in Barry Tuxford's colours, cherry
jacket, white sleeves, because he was anxious Sir Lester's jacket should
be on a winner the first time they were out, and Lucky Boy did not hold
a first class chance.

Where was Barry Tuxford, the owner of Lucky Boy? This was a question
freely asked, but no answer was forthcoming. During his visit to Sydney,
Barry had somewhat astonished the mining speculators by the cleverness
of his transactions, and on more than one occasion it had been a
question of the biter being bitten.

The popular opinion, amongst these men, was not very wide of the mark.
They thought he had gone away to prospect, or to examine some new land
up country, but they did not know he had sailed for Fremantle.

Had there been the slightest inkling as to Barry's destination, and the
reason for his journey, there would have been a ferment of excitement,
and probably a rush by the next boat to follow on his trail.

Abe Moss put the question straight to Jack.

"Where's Barry Tuxford?" he asked. "You may as well tell me, I am sure
to find out in time."

"Then you can wait for that time," said Jack, "for you will gain no
information from me."

"Precious clever you think yourselves, no doubt," growled Abe. "Did he
tell you before he left that I was to be 'in the know' when your horses
were having a try?"

"Our horses always try, no matter what yours may do," replied Jack.

Abe Moss laughed as he said--

"Oh, yes, we all know that. You are perfect saints in Western Australia,
too good for this earth. Has Lucky Boy a chance to-day?" he asked, as
though he had a perfect right to put the question.

Jack was irritated at the tone, and the man's impudence, or he would
probably have given him a different reply. As it was he said--

"He has a very good chance."

"Worth backing?" asked Abe.

"Please yourself," said Jack, as he walked away, inwardly hoping Abe
Moss would lose his money, or fail to back Lucky Boy if he won.

There were eight runners, and of this lot Random was a very hot
favourite at evens, and as Smith had put up seven pounds extra to ride
him the race was booked a good thing for him.

Random was a very useful horse, and more than once, when he had beaten
Black Boy, Joel Kenley thought the latter could have won.

He took Jack aside before the saddling bell rang, and said--

"Watch Random closely, stick to him all the way. I do not think you can
beat him, but I want to find out what Lucky Boy can do with him."

"Is there any other horse in the race to fear?" asked Jack.

"Only The Spot, and perhaps Tell Tale."

It was Jack's first appearance on an Australian course, and he was
naturally anxious to create a favourable impression. Joel had told him
that colonial riders had a very poor opinion of "new chums" in the
saddle, and added--

"But I think you will cause them to change their opinion before the day
is over."

Although Joel thought Lucky Boy had but a poor chance of beating a horse
like Random, with a clever jockey in the saddle, he was not without hope
that Smith would hold Jack Redland and his mount too cheap, and perhaps
throw the race away. Dick Smith had one bad fault, he loved to "snatch
races out of the fire," make a close finish of it, when perhaps his
mount could have won by four or five lengths. It was for this reason
Joel never put him up if he could help it, and when one of his patrons
insisted upon it he told him he did it at his own risk.

Random dashed down the course, moving with such freedom that backers
were content to lay slight odds on him, and before the flag fell he was
a six to four on chance.

Smith thought the race was all over bar shouting, and at the post he
smiled sarcastically, as Jack rode up on Lucky Boy, and said to the
rider of The Spot--

"Old Joel's going a bit balmy if he fancies that thing has a chance."

"They say the chap on him can ride."

Smith laughed as he replied--

"I think they are well matched, neither of 'em are much to look at."

This was, no doubt, professional jealousy, as Jack cut a far better
figure than Smith in the saddle. The race was run over a mile, and at
the start Tell Tale went off with a clear lead. Round the back of the
course The Spot went up to him, followed by Sandpiper. Jack watched
Random, and knew the horse could race up to the leaders at any time.

Smith wondered why Jack stuck so close to his mount, was he a better
rider than he imagined? At the half distance Random drew up closer with
the leaders, Jack following on Lucky Boy. Two furlongs from the winning
post Tell Tale shot his bolt, then The Spot fell back, and Random dashed
to the front. Now was Jack's time. If Lucky Boy was to win an effort
must be made.

To the surprise of the riders of The Spot and Tell Tale, the outsider,
for such Lucky Boy was, shot past them easily and followed close on the
track of Random.

When he reached the Leger stand, Smith felt certain the race was won,
and eased his mount in order to "canter" home at his leisure. It was a
foolish thing to do. To everyone who watched the race, and knew anything
about the spot, it looked any odds on Random winning a furlong from
home. Had Smith kept him going he could probably have won by
half-a-dozen lengths, but this was just where the jockey failed. Jack
Redland knew every move on the board in riding a race, and when he saw
Smith drop his hands on Random he was sanguine about Lucky Boy's chance.
His mount was going well, although he would never have caught Random had
he been kept at his top.

Before Smith realised the danger he was in Lucky Boy was alongside him,
and the astonished jockey lost further ground through sheer surprise.
Instead of Random holding his own the backers of the favourite saw with
dismay that Lucky Boy was a very likely winner.

Joel Kenley also saw what occurred, and smiled quietly at Smith's folly.
Random, win or lose, ought to have easily beaten Lucky Boy, but a win
was a win, no matter whether it came about through the misfortune of
others.

Jack rode Lucky Boy hard, and although the horse was not thoroughly
wound up he responded to the call and struggled on.

Smith savagely spurred Random, venting his spite on the horse for a
fault that was entirely his own. The severity of the punishment caused
Random to almost leap forward, and for a second or two he seemed likely
to pass Lucky Boy. It was a vain hope on the part of his backers, for
when the winning post was passed Lucky Boy had a couple of lengths to
the good.

It was a miserable fiasco, this was the universal opinion. An odds on
favourite that ought to have won by half-a-dozen lengths was beaten by a
miserable outsider.

Smith's failure was so glaring that he came in for a volley of groans
and hisses, which did not improve his already bad temper. He was
accustomed to cheers, and the ominous sound jarred upon him.

Jack acknowledged he had a very lucky race and did not expect to receive
a warm welcome from the crowd. Racing men, all over the world, however,
are good natured, and they cheered the new comer heartily.

The owner of Random roundly abused Smith in the paddock, and threatened
to call the attention of the Stewards to the spur marks, this, however,
at the jockey's request, he did not do.

Jack was delighted at his success, and Joel said--

"You won, but Random ought to have beaten Lucky Boy easily. How did
Random gallop?"

"Very well indeed, I think he is a good horse; he had the foot of Lucky
Boy most of the way."

"In that case," thought Joel, "Black Boy must be pretty good. I think we
are likely to have a bit of fun in the Sydney Cup, a surprise for some
of the clever division."

Abe Moss did not take Jack's advice, but backed Random, and when the
lucky winner said to him--

"I hope you took my advice, Moss," he replied, angrily--

"Much it was worth, Random ought to have romped home."

"From which I presume you backed him," said Jack. "If such is the case I
am glad of it. I always like to see such men as you lose their money."

"What have you against me?" asked Moss angrily.

"Nothing at present," coolly replied Jack, as he walked away.

"He's one too many for you, Abe," said the man standing next to him.




CHAPTER TWENTY-FIFTH

_SOMETHING ABOUT WINIFRED_


Meanwhile Winifred was in sore trouble at The Downs, for Sir Lester was
very ill, and the doctors took a grave view of his case. He caught a
chill at Gatwick, and the cold which followed, being neglected, as such
ailments often are, congestion of the lungs followed, and he was now
fighting for his life.

At times he was unconscious, and Winifred, almost worn out with
watching, sometimes thought he had gone, so still and quiet he lay.

The crisis came at last, and he pulled through, but she felt she would
never forget that time of anxiety, almost of despair.

Sir Lester knew what she had done for him, all she had gone through, and
her drawn white face showed how she had suffered.

"If it had not been for your daughter, I believe we should have lost
you, Sir Lester," said his favourite doctor. "She worked day and night,
and orders given were attended to with even more promptitude than in a
hospital. She is a wonderful girl, and you are right in being proud of
her."

During his days of convalescence Sir Lester found in Winifred a constant
companion who never failed to interest and amuse him.

He thought she deserved every happiness this life could give, and
knowing what was dearest to her heart, he longed for Jack Redland to
come home. He cared not now whether he returned rich or poor; in any
case he would offer no opposition, and as Winifred was his only child,
there would be sufficient for them when he was gone, and he could look
after them during his lifetime.

He had great faith in Jack, and something told him he was prospering,
and that when he came home it would not be with empty hands. Winifred
guessed his thoughts, and was happy. The colour returned to her cheeks,
and she was soon her light-hearted merry self again, although his
illness had made a deep impression upon her that would never be effaced.
It is in times of sickness and sore distress that the best feelings in
our natures are roused. There is the need to act, the necessity for
self-denial, duties to be done that cannot be evaded, annoyances that
will not be thrust aside. There must be no putting off for to-morrow
what can be done to-day, for delay means death maybe, and that ends all
in this life.

Sir Lester's illness put the finishing touch to Winifred's womanhood; it
brought her to maturity; it roused in her the feelings of maternity,
which reliance upon herself always brings to a woman. Her father had
been as helpless as a child, and she had nursed him, attended to his
every want, anticipated his unspoken wishes, ministered to his pain, and
did all that a brave woman knows so well how to do in battling with
death, in peace or in war.

She felt the change in herself, but did not quite understand it.
Something had been given to her that she lacked before, and it was very
wonderful, strangely beautiful and satisfying. She was as gay and
light-hearted as ever, but there was more depth in her, a firmness she
had hitherto lacked possessed her, and she felt better able to grapple
with the world.

Sir Lester was amused. He noticed all these traits and knew the little
girl he so fondly loved had developed into a very beautiful woman. He
had watched her grow year by year, and hungrily begrudged the advancing
age which must make her less reliant upon him. Man-like, he wanted her
to be solely dependent upon him, and yet now the time was come, when she
was a woman, he loved her better than ever. What a prize she would prove
to Jack Redland; he thought of no other man in connection with her: the
mere idea seemed desecration. Had he been glad when Jack went away? He
doubted it. Relief was the feeling he experienced. And he would again
feel it on his return.

Roaming about the country lanes one day, Winifred chanced to linger on
the spot where she had last seen Jack turn and wave his farewell. Was it
a chance she came there? She tried to convince herself such was the
case, but it proved a failure, for she knew she had deliberately walked
in that direction.

Was it by chance that the self-same gypsy woman came along at the time
and saw her? Probably it was, for she seldom wandered that way. The
woman hesitated, and then approached. She knew it was Winifred Dyke, and
was aware that Sir Lester disliked liked her and all her tribe. She had
not forgotten the handsome young man she had met not far away some year
or two before, and something told her there was a connecting link
between them. They are wonderfully shrewd, the women of her class, and
have a marvellous way of putting things together and weaving elegant and
generally acceptable little romances therefrom.

Winifred started when she saw her, and at once it flashed across her
mind that this might be the same woman Jack had told her about. The
thought interested her strangely. If this were the woman then she had
much to do with Jack's going away, ridiculous though it appeared.

"May I look at your hand?" said the gypsy, as though it was the most
natural request in the world.

Winifred smiled as she held it out and said--

"If it will give you any satisfaction."

"It is not for my satisfaction, but for your own."

She examined her hand closely, it was beautiful, well shaped, and
daintily pink.

"You have had trouble."

Winifred started; then she thought, "She knows who I am, and that my
father has been ill; how absurd of me."

"You are happy again. There will be no more clouds. There is someone
coming from across the seas. He is a good man and generous. Strange,
very strange!"

"What is strange?" asked Winifred.

"There is much money coming to you. See, look at that mark."

There was a tiny line on her hand, and as Winifred looked at it the mark
seemed to grow larger.

"There is great wealth, it increases. Look, the line is quite clear
now," said the gypsy excitedly.

"It has become clearer because I extended my hand," said Winifred,
interested in spite of herself.

"That is not the cause. Only once before have I seen this sign in a
woman's hand, and she became a great lady."

Winifred laughed merrily as she replied--

"I am afraid I shall never be a very great lady."

The gypsy curtsied as she answered--

"You are a very beautiful lady, and beauty is greatness."

Then taking Winifred's hand in her own brown one she said--

"You will have good news when you return home--a letter from across the
seas."

"When?" asked Winifred.

"To-night, or to-morrow; it is very near."

"I hope so."

"And there will be pleasure for you in it--a surprise; something I do
not quite understand."

"Then you cannot tell me the contents of my supposed letter," said
Winifred banteringly.

"No; that is hidden from me; but the writer loves you, as many will love
you and fail, all but one."

"And what of him?" asked Winifred softly.

She knew it was all nonsense, but it was very sweet foolery and she
loved to hear it.

"He is a man who will prove worthy of you, and your life will be full of
happiness. I wonder if he is the brave gentleman who helped me a year or
two ago, when I saw him not very far from here. I had a sick child, and
he gave me all the money he had with him and walked back to Brighton. He
was a noble man, worthy of a great love."

Winifred coloured as she said--

"I heard about it; he told me before he went to Australia."

"Then it is the same?" said the woman. "May God bless you both."

Winifred offered her money, and the gypsy eyed it greedily, but shook
her head and said--

"No, kind lady, I do not want money for what I have told you."

"But you have a little boy; take it for him."

"Yes, I will take it for him."

Winifred changed her mind, and gave her half a sovereign. The woman's
gratitude was unbounded and she showered many blessings on Winifred's
head as she went on her way.

Winifred remained standing on the spot looking after her. She wondered
if Jack would really come back with the fortune he said he went out to
make. It mattered little to her whether he was rich or poor, but she
wished him to succeed, and knew how he felt about it.

As she walked slowly home she revolved in her mind all that had taken
place since he left. How lonely she had been at first, her old playmate
gone, and no prospect of seeing him for some years. She knew she loved
him when he had acted under that sudden impulse and taken her in his
arms and kissed her. The memory of that embrace was very dear to her.
Gradually as she became accustomed to his absence she grew to love him
more and more. He was constantly in her thoughts; she wondered where he
was, what he was doing. She listened eagerly to Captain Seagrave's
account of the voyage, and could have hugged the rough old seaman when
he praised Jack up to the skies. The arrival of his first letter was a
great event. She read it again and again; it opened up to her a new
field of thought, and she wrote him glowing epistles of their doings at
The Downs. She knew even trivial things would interest him because she
wrote of them, and they told of the dear old country where they had
spent so many happy hours together. There were no words of love in her
letters; she would not write them, but he would understand, and she
meant to leave him perfectly free. The mere thought of Jack falling in
love with some other girl sent her into a cold shiver, but she quickly
smiled and reassured herself when she thought of that kiss. Then came
more letters, and she gloated over his wonderful adventures and pictured
him fighting hordes of terrible savages, and diving to the bottom of the
sea for pearls. Her father laughed at her, and said that on the whole he
fancied Jack was having a very good time, and was far more likely to be
dancing with native beauties in scanty costumes than battling with
blacks, at which assertion she was highly indignant.

When she entered the house Sir Lester said--

"A letter for you, Win, from----"

"Jack!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, I expect so; we have not many friends in Australia."

She thought of the gypsy woman, and how quickly her words had come true.

She opened the letter and read it eagerly, devouring every word before
she proclaimed the contents to her father; but he was contented to wait.
He knew how much these letters meant to her.

"Well, what news, my girl?" he asked.

"Oh, it's splendid; it sounds too good to be true--too much like a fairy
tale."

"Read and I shall understand," he replied smiling.

She read Jack's long letter, telling her of the adventure of the great
black pearl, and how he was determined to secure it for her, and bring
it home in triumph. It was one of the finest of pearls, and no one was
half so worthy of it as she. He had meant it for her the moment he had
found it in the shell. Now an "old thief of a pearl dealer had it," but
Barry Tuxford said it was safe, and what Barry affirmed was gospel. Then
she read about gold discoveries, mining shares, racehorses, and many
other things, and finally wound up by saying on her own account that she
always knew Jack would be a success, and that he would make a fortune.

"What do you think of him, father?"

"He is a brave fellow, and worthy of my daughter's love."

"How do you know he has it, or that he wants it?" she asked slily.

"There are certain symptoms, Win, I cannot fail to understand, and if
Jack does not want my little girl he's about as big a fool as the earth
holds," replied Sir Lester laughing.

"A black pearl. Fancy me wearing such a precious thing. I shall be
frightened to touch it, after all the adventures it has passed through."

"You have not got it yet."

"But Jack says he will get it for me, and that is quite sufficient."

"His friend, Barry Tuxford, must be an extraordinary man. I should like
to meet him," said Sir Lester.

"And so should I, to thank him for all he has done for Jack."

"Send him a special message in your next letter. He deserves a page to
himself," said her father.

"And he shall have it; a whole page," said Winifred.




CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXTH

_A PUZZLE_


The trial had taken place, and Lucky Boy beat Black Boy and two others
easily, much to the surprise of Joel Kenley, who could not understand
it. On this form Lucky Boy's victory at Rosehill could not have been
such a fluke after all.

Jack saw the trial and was puzzled. He had ridden both horses in their
work and had a decided preference for Black Boy. On more than one
occasion he had galloped with Lucky Boy and beaten him, and yet there
was no mistaking the way in which Barry's horse won the trial.

He thought the matter over and came to the conclusion that there must be
some mistake, and hinted as much to Joel, who laughed and said there
could be no error, because both horses were ridden out, and they carried
level weights.

"We ought to have another trial," said Jack.

"I do not advise it. The Cup race takes place next week and both horses
are fit. If you take my advice you will back them both and the odds
against Black Boy are very tempting. A hundred to three means a big win
for a small outlay, and as you can also obtain a hundred to eight about
Lucky Boy there is no cause to complain about the tightness of the
market."

"They are liberal prices," said Jack, "but not excessive on the form."

Abe Moss was determined to be on the right one of Joel Kenley's pair for
the Sydney Cup, and as he knew exactly what Black Boy was capable of he
thought after the trial that Lucky Boy held a splendid winning chance.
Abe, however, seldom gave anyone credit for acting straightforwardly,
and when Lucky Boy won the trial he had doubts about the genuineness of
the gallop.

One evening he met Bricky Smiles in Adams' Bar, in Pitt Street. Bricky
knew him, and saw no reason to avoid him. Moss seized the opportunity
and commenced operations by standing drinks. He knew Bricky's failing,
the old jockey took considerably more than was good for him at times,
many people in more exalted positions do the same, but they hide it more
effectually.

A couple of glasses of whisky and soda loosened Bricky's tongue, and he
talked volubly. Gradually Abe Moss led him on to the subject he desired,
but the moment he hinted at anything connected with Kenley's stable
Bricky became reserved.

"He's not primed sufficiently," thought Moss, and called for more
liquor.

They sat down and Moss said--

"If you'll do me a favour, Bricky, I'll make it worth your while."

"Depends upon what it is," he replied.

"There's no harm in it. I merely wish to know your opinion about a
couple of horses."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Which horses?"

"Lucky Boy and Black Boy."

Bricky laughed as he replied--

"I fancy you know as much as I do about them, perhaps more, especially
about Black Boy."

"Was that a straight go the other morning, when Lucky Boy won?" asked
Abe.

"You know Joel Kenley, and that ought to be sufficient. The trial was
straight enough."

"Then you think Lucky Boy is the better of the pair?"

"He must be on that form, and the market tells the same tale," replied
Bricky.

"I don't care a hang for the market, figures can be faked anyhow. You
have not told me your opinion. Come, I'll give you a couple of sovs. for
it, that's a professional fee."

Bricky thought there was no harm in expressing his private opinion, it
would not be betraying any stable secrets, for it was well known that
Joel Kenley preferred Lucky Boy. A couple of sovs. under such
circumstances were not to be despised.

"I can only go by the trial," he said. "That is the safest guide, but if
you want to know which of the pair is my favourite I may tell you it's
Black Boy. Don't run away with the idea that he'll beat the other fellow
in the Cup, although I would like to see him do it, Joel knows more
about it than I do."

"You have not told me much," said Abe, "but here's a couple of sovs. You
really prefer Black Boy to Lucky Boy?"

"As a horse, yes, but whether he will beat him in the Sydney Cup remains
to be seen."

"Which shall you back?"

"I have no money to back horses with," said Bricky.

"You had plenty at one time."

"I had and did it on like a fool. I daresay you had some of it."

Abe Moss laughed, he thought this probable, as he had an interest in one
or two books and had often played cards and billiards with Bricky.

Jack Redland went into Tattersalls' Club frequently, and was very
popular with the members. They recognised him as a good sportsman and
readily acknowledged he was a cut above the general run of racing men.
Considerable interest was manifested as to which horse out of Kenley's
stable he would back, and when he accepted several big wagers about
Black Boy at a thousand to thirty there was a disposition to follow his
lead. As a natural consequence, Lucky Boy dropped in the quotations, but
when Jack snapped up a tempting offer at the extended odds he speedily
recovered. There was nothing sensational about these transactions, and
when one or two questions were asked he merely replied that he was
backing Lucky Boy for Barry Tuxford, and Black Boy for himself.

"We may divide the spoil if either horse wins," he added, laughing.

This was feasible enough, the horses were in different ownerships, and
would therefore run independently, but for all this there was an air of
uncertainty about it.

If Lucky Boy was the better horse, why had Barry Tuxford cleared out
instead of remaining to see his colours carried to victory. It must be
very important business to take him away at such a time.

Joel Kenley secured two reliable middle-weights to ride the horses. Andy
Wilson was to have the mount on Lucky Boy, Will Sleath was to ride
Jack's horse. There was not much to chose between the pair; if anything,
Wilson had a larger number of followers. They had ridden the horses at
exercise and each jockey fancied his mount, so that a rivalry, quite
friendly, existed between them, as to which would prove the better of
the two in the Cup.

They were talking it over the night before the race, and eventually
decided to make a wager of five pounds aside, each jockey backing his
own mount. They were not sanguine of success, as there were many good
horses in the race, including three or four cracks from Melbourne.

Jack Redland was exceedingly anxious. Sleath was to wear Sir Lester's
jacket, which he had brought out from home, and in which he had ridden
Topsy Turvy to victory at Lewes. He impressed upon the jockey that there
was a halo of romance hanging about the jacket and that he must strain
every nerve to win.

As he looked at the brilliant orange sleeves, and the dark body, he
thought of the last time he had worn it and wondered how everything was
going with Winifred and Sir Lester. Somehow he felt sanguine of victory,
and if Black Boy won he determined to cable to Sir Lester, who would be
delighted to receive the news. He wished Barry Tuxford could be present
to see the race and judge for himself as to Lucky Boy's running if he
was beaten. Not that Barry would doubt anyone, he was too honest for
that, but Jack felt it would be a disappointment to him if his horse
lost.

It was also an anxious time for Joel Kenley, who had several horses
running at the meeting. The trainer was still puzzled as to the merits
of "the two boys", as he called the horses. Common sense told him Lucky
Boy ought to beat Black Boy, and yet he could not drive away the idea
that Jack's horse would beat him, if not actually win.

As he went round the boxes the night before the race, he found Bricky
looking earnestly at Black Boy.

"Anything the matter?" asked Joel.

"No, sir. He never was better. He's as hard as nails and fit to run any
distance."

"You seemed a trifle anxious about something."

"I was wondering how much he'd win the Cup by," said Bricky, without a
smile.

Joel Kenley laughed as he replied--

"Then you are sure he will win, and it is only a question as to how far
the others will be beaten. What makes you think he will beat Lucky Boy?"

"I don't know, a kind of presentiment, one of those things a fellow
can't understand. I'm sure he is a better horse than the other fellow."

Joel Kenley seldom talked with his lads, but he knew Bricky had a wide
experience and had ridden and looked after all sorts of horses, so he
spoke to him with more freedom than usual.

"What about the trial? Lucky Boy won that easily."

"That's true, too easily I thought, he'd never do it again. It reminded
me of a trial I once rode for Mr. Mason, at Eagle Farm, Brisbane."

"What was there curious about it?" asked Joel.

"There were two horses in his stable, same as it is here, and one of
them won a trial with any amount to spare. They backed him for a heap of
money, put the other horse in to make the running, which he did, for he
was never caught, and won the race almost as easily as his stable mate
did the trial. I rode the favourite, and I also rode him in the trial.
In the race he would not try a yard and there was a regular row about
it. Most people blamed me, but Mr. Mason stood by me and said he'd have
another trial. We had, and dash me if my fellow didn't win again easily,
and I rode him. Well, about a month after we took him to Gympie, backed
him heavily, and he ran nearly last. The other horse, that he beat in
the trial, we took to Rockhampton, and beggar me if he didn't win
easily, fairly smothering the Gympie winner. What do you make of that?"

"One horse must have been a rogue in a race, but would do his best at
home," said Joel.

"Quite so, and I have an idea that will be the case here."

"You may be right, but we have no occasion to think Lucky Boy lacks
courage, he ran a good race at Rosehill."

Bricky shook his head and smiled as he said--

"I can't give any reasons, sir, but to-morrow my bit for the Cup goes on
this fellow."

"It will be a surprise for a lot of people if he wins."

"It's good for 'em to be surprised sometimes," said Bricky.

Jack Redland called at the trainer's the same night, and Joel told him
what Bricky had said.

"It's curious," said Jack, "but I cannot get it out of my head about
Black Boy, I feel sure he will run well and beat Barry's horse."

"Have you heard from Mr. Tuxford?" asked the trainer.

"No, he has hardly had time to write."

"He must be a long way from here?"

"He is," replied Jack, smiling, and the trainer said--

"It is no use trying to trap you."

"Not a bit," said Jack.

"He has left everything in our hands," said the trainer, "but it would
be far more satisfactory if he were here, or even if we could
communicate with him."

"I am afraid that also is impossible. A telegram would not reach him,
besides what is there to wire about?"

"Nothing, when you come to think of it," answered Joel.

"We must give orders for both horses to be ridden out, and then we shall
discover which is really the better of the pair. I confess the solution
of that question interests me as much as the result of the race itself."

"And so it does me, and I am not at all sure, Mr. Redland, that the
second string will not win," replied the trainer.




CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENTH

_THE SECOND STRING_


It was a brilliant scene on the beautiful Randwick course on Cup Day,
and Jack Redland, as he looked round, thought it compared more than
favourably with anything of the kind he had seen in the old country. He
knew it was to be a day of excitement, and he heartily wished he had
some friend to share it with him. Sometimes our desires are gratified in
a strangely sudden manner, and so it chanced to be with him.

As he looked at the moving mass of people in the ring at the rear of the
Stewards' Stand, he saw a burly figure that seemed strangely familiar.
At first he did not recognise it, but as the man moved nearer, he gave
an exclamation of delighted surprise, for it was his old friend Captain
Seagrave, who in some extraordinary way had turned up at this opportune
moment.

Jack darted down the steps of the stand and hustled his way through the
crowd, not stopping to answer numerous heated inquiries as to where he
was "pushing people."

He caught Captain Seagrave by the arm, and the astonished sailor gasped
as he looked at him.

"Of all the blessed experiences I ever had, this beats all," said Job,
as he gave his hand a hearty shake. "Where on earth have you sprung
from?"

"I ought to ask that question," replied Jack, laughing. "What brings you
here?"

"Come under the trees and sit down, and I'll tell you."

They went towards a shady seat, and then Job Seagrave said--

"It does me good to see you. I've a heap of things to tell you. I saw
Sir Lester and his daughter last trip and they have sent no end of
messages, especially the young lady. Lucky dog, that's what you are."

Jack forgot all about the races for the time being, so absorbed was he
in listening to the Captain.

"I'll leave all the good things they said until later on," went on Job.
"I only arrived here late last night. I've got a new craft, a real tip
top steamer. I've chucked over the old firm, they treated me badly. I'm
skipper of the "Falcon," and a right down good steamer she is. I never
expected to see you here. Knowing the Sydney Cup was run for to-day, I
thought I'd come and see it. Lucky we arrived just in time. I don't know
a blessed horse that is running in the race."

These remarks brought Jack's thoughts back to the business in hand. They
had been talking for some time, and Joel Kenley was hunting all over the
paddock for Jack. At last he spotted him and went hurriedly across.

Jack saw him coming and went to meet him.

"I have been looking for you this half hour," said the trainer. "It is
almost time for saddling up, will you come and see the horses put to
rights?"

Jack beckoned Captain Seagrave, and introduced him to the trainer,
remarking that he was the brother of Caleb Kenley, of Lewes.

"Proud to meet you," said Job, "I know your brother, saw him when I was
in England last voyage."

"We have no time to talk now," said Jack, smiling. "There is a lot to be
done. Come and see the horses saddled, Captain."

"Whose horses?"

"Our's--mine and Barry's."

"Is he here?"

"No, worse luck."

"What races are they in?"

"The Sydney Cup," replied Jack.

"Both of them?"

"Yes."

"Well, this is a go, and which of 'em is going to win? Do you ride?"

Jack and the trainer laughed heartily, and the former explained the
situation to Joel, who was thanking his lucky star that the "Falcon" had
arrived in time for him to be present.

Lucky Boy was saddled first, then Black Boy, and quite a crowd gathered
round the pair, for Joel Kenley's horses always attracted attention, his
stable was generally dangerous.

Black Boy was quiet, but his stable mate was restless, and lashed out
freely.

"Which do you like best?" asked Jack.

"I'm not much of a judge, but I prefer this one," replied the Captain,
pointing to Jack's horse.

"The other one is the better favourite, but I rather fancy mine will
beat him."

"What does the trainer think?"

"He's in a bit of a fix. Lucky Boy won the trial, and yet we all seem to
fancy the other one."

"Then he carries my money," said Job. "What odds can I get?"

"About twenty to one," replied Jack.

"That beats Topsy Turvy," said Job. "I'll have a fiver on."

Jack laughed, and advised him to do his speculating at once, and he
would wait for him.

The jockeys came up and mounted, and by this time the interest in the
race had risen to fever heat.

Mentone, a Melbourne trained horse, is favourite, and the opinion was
that he had been leniently treated, in fact, was the pick of the
handicap. A strong contingent of visitors from the Victorian capital had
come over to back him, and were confident of success.

Escort, Tramp, Hiram, and the Dancer, were all more or less fancied.

Captain Seagrave had no difficulty in obtaining a hundred to five about
Black Boy, a wager he was more than satisfied with.

"If it pans out as well as that race you rode in at Lewes it will be
grand," he said. "I wish Sam Slack had come with me."

"Is Sam in the 'Falcon' with you?" asked Jack.

"Yes, and so is Mac and most of the other boys. They'll be glad to see
you again."

The horses were now moving out on to the track, and Job caught sight of
the colours on Black Boy.

"He's running in Sir Lester's colours," said Job, in some surprise.

"And it is the same jacket I wore when I won on Topsy Turvy," said Jack.
"Sir Lester gave it me."

"Then I'm hanged if I don't have another bit on," said Job, and this
time he only secured a hundred to seven.

Jack laughed at his enthusiasm, and said--

"You had better have a pound or two on Lucky Boy as a saver, they will
both do their best to win."

"No more," said Job, "I'll stand or fall by the old colours."

The stands were packed, and the people stood on the lawn, and leaned
over the railings in dense masses.

Mentone was cheered as he galloped to the starting post, and the horse
looked a perfect picture. Black Boy moved sluggishly, but Lucky Boy went
past at a great pace, pulling his jockey out of the saddle, eager for
the race.

"Too flash," said Job; "Give me the other fellow, he's steady and sure."

"I daresay you are right," replied Jack.

There was no more time for conversation, as the horses were quickly
despatched on their journey, and the bright green jacket of Escort was
easily distinguishable in front. The horse had a light weight, and a
clever lad rode him. With a clean lead of several lengths, he brought
the field along, his nearest attendants being Hiram, Tramp, and Maximus.
Bunched together in the centre were the favourite, and Kenley's pair
with the remainder of the field, well up.

As they passed the stand, Escort led at a great pace, almost
overstriding himself, and his tiny jockey had no easy task to hold him.

There was some bumping as they swept round the bend and past Oxenham's,
but nothing was seriously interfered with.

Along the track, Escort still led, but the others were gradually drawing
up, and it was easy to see that by the time the sheds were reached, he
would be caught.

Jack watched the black jacket and orange sleeves closely and also the
cherry and white on Lucky Boy, who seemed to be going in splendid form,
and fully bearing out his trial. So far Barry's horse clearly outpaced
Black Boy, and Jack commenced to think he would win. He would have been
almost as pleased to see Barry's colours successful as his own.

Job made no remark. He stood watching the race with a stolid face, and
no one would have thought he was in a fever of excitement. A good race
agitated him far more than a storm at sea.

They were nearing the turn for home, and Mentone was rapidly working his
way round on the outside. The favourite seemed to have no difficulty in
passing the leaders, and as they entered the straight, he was close up
to Tramp, who held the lead.

Lucky Boy shot his bolt soon after they headed for home, and his
collapse was a surprise to Joel Kenley, who fancied he would be sure to
stay it out.

Bricky Smiles was watching the race from the trainer's stand, and when
he saw Lucky Boy was beaten, he was glad his modest investment was on
his favourite.

As they neared the first stand, Mentone looked to have the race well in
hand. He was going easily and his jockey had made no call upon him; he
had no intention of doing so if it could be avoided, for the horse had a
decided objection to being pressed. His instructions were to get to the
front as soon as they entered the straight and make the best of his way
home, no matter whether it was a long run in or otherwise.

"Don't hit him if you can help it," said the trainer, "but, of course,
if it comes to a pinch you must."

Will Sleath saw the favourite forging ahead, and also noticed Lucky Boy
fall back.

"It all depends on me," he thought; "Andy has no chance."

Black Boy was a horse that could gallop at a steady pace almost any
distance, but he lacked that sharp burst of speed which comes in so
handy at the finish. Will Sleath knew his mount well, and had no
hesitation in making the most of him in any part of the race. The rider
of Mentone had been deceived as to the pace they were going, because
Black Boy had been galloping alongside him, and he knew the horse was a
"plodder." When he made his run round the home turn with Mentone, it
took a good deal out of the favourite, more than he knew of. Sleath sent
Black Boy along at his top, and together with Hiram and the Dancer, drew
level with Tramp, who was soon beaten.

Mentone was sailing along comfortably in front, his backers being on
excellent terms with themselves, and already the cheering which heralds
the anticipated victory of a favourite were heard.

"It's all over," said Jack. "We're beaten, Job."

The Captain made no remark, he was too intent upon watching the black
and orange jacket as it came creeping along.

Slowly but surely Black Boy made up his ground, and Hiram stuck close to
him, yet it seemed almost impossible they would get on terms with the
leader.

Will Sleath looked ahead and saw the judge's box very near: if only
Black Boy could put on a spurt he had no doubt what would be the result.
This was unfortunately what Black Boy could not do, for he was already
at his top, and his jockey did not ask him to go faster.

Mentone was tiring, and his rider was aware of it, but he thought the
commanding lead he held would carry him safely through.

It was a case of the favourite stopping and Black Boy plodding on. The
exciting question was would Mentone fall back sufficiently to allow of
Jack's horse getting up.

The crowd commenced to realise what was taking place, and there was a
dead silence.

Jack felt his pulses tingle, and his blood seemed on fire. Being an
accomplished rider, he knew exactly how matters stood, and he hoped
almost against hope that Black Boy would just get up in time.

The black and orange was very near now, not more than a length away, and
Mentone's jockey realising the danger raised his whip. In response the
horse made a feeble effort which was not sustained, and a terrific shout
burst from the crowd as Black Boy got on level terms.

For a second the pair struggled together, then Black Boy outstayed the
favourite, and the black and orange jacket of Sir Lester Dyke was
carried first past the post in a memorable Sydney Cup.




CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH

_THE NEW CLAIMS_


The victory of Black Boy was not very well received, although no blame
was attached to either owner or trainer. The horse's previous running
showed he had very little chance of carrying off such a race as the
Sydney Cup.

Jack Redland won a large sum, and half of this was to go to Barry
Tuxford. Job Seagrave landed a couple of hundred pounds, and was
jubilant.

The stewards could not let the previous running of Black Boy pass
unchallenged, and called Abe Moss before them to give an explanation of
the horse's performances during the time he owned him. Abe made some
blundering excuses, which only half satisfied the stewards, and wound up
by saying he had backed Lucky Boy in the Cup, as he did not consider the
winner good enough. This was perfectly correct, and probably thinking he
had been sufficiently punished by losing his money, the stewards gave
him a severe caution, and warned him to be careful how he acted in the
future.

Jack was naturally anxious to hear from Barry Tuxford, but there was
nothing for it but to wait patiently until he communicated with him.

He lost no time in paying a visit to the "Falcon" and renewing his
acquaintance with his old friends of the "Golden Land." Sam Slack and
Rufus Macdonald gave him a hearty welcome, and the latter said the
skipper was a "canny mon" to land the "Falcon" in port in time to back
Black Boy in the Cup. "It's a pity we were not there," he said.

Jack dined with them on board, and they spent several merry evenings
together, until the time came for the "Falcon" to commence her homeward
voyage.

Captain Seagrave willingly took charge of several parcels Jack wished to
send to Winifred and Sir Lester, he also entrusted to Job a splendid
photograph of Black Boy, with Sleath in the saddle, and the black and
orange colours up.

When the "Falcon" left the harbour Jack felt more lonely than he had
ever done since he landed in Australia, and it was with a feeling of
intense relief he received a letter from Barry Tuxford some weeks after
Black Boy had won the Cup.

Barry wrote in high spirits, he had nothing but good news to tell. His
man had not exaggerated in the least, and he reckoned their claims would
be about the richest in Western Australia.

"The country, as you may expect, is infernal," wrote Barry, "not fit for
a civilised white man to live in, but where gold is to be found there do
the people flock together, and it was not long before they were on my
track after the first gold went on to the Great Tom township, and the
Warden had granted our claims. You have never been in a gold rush and I
hope you never will. It is hell let loose, every man for himself and the
devil take the hindmost. All the worst features of the human race come
to the surface; if a man has any of the leven of unrighteousness in him
it's bound to ooze out in a big lump. I have seen some very choice
collections of blackguards in my time but I never set eyes on such a
crew as we have had up here at Bundoola Creek. They are the scum of the
earth, and although there are some good fellows amongst them, the
majority ought to be in gaol. You know me fairly well, and that I am not
easily staggered, but I tell you candidly when I looked round on the
crew that rushed the Creek I felt a trifle uncomfortable. We had secured
the best claims, and the fellows knew it, and this raised their ire.
They saw there was gold on our pitches to be had almost for the asking,
and they wanted some of it. I was equally determined they should not
have it. I took with me, from the township, a dozen men I could depend
upon, and to make doubly sure of them I gave them a hint where to peg
out their ground. This gave them an interest in the concern and as they
were all well armed the rogues and vagabonds would have had a rough time
of it had they ventured to interfere with us. Things have settled down a
bit now, and as there is plenty for all I see no reason why the peace
should not be kept.

"As for the claims, I have called one the 'Redland,' and the other the
'Barry Tuxford,' so we stand a good chance of becoming famous all the
world over, for sure as fate these will be big concerns. I have just
heard Black Boy won the Sydney Cup, and you cannot think how delighted I
am. For a middle aged man I acted in a most absurd way. I danced around
the camp like a wild man, and my pals thought the heat had affected my
brain. When I explained what had occurred they understood, they are all
good sports. What a triumph, Jack, and what an awful scoundrel Abe Moss
must be. I don't know how my horse ran, and don't much care, now you
won. If Joel Kenley thinks Lucky Boy will win a race let him keep him in
training, if not, sell him for what he will bring. Thank him for all he
has done for us, and give him a bonus of a hundred pounds as a slight
token of my regard. There is no secrecy now about my movements, and you
may tell anyone you like where I am, and what has happened, providing
they do not already know.

"Come back to Fremantle as soon as you feel inclined, as I have a lot to
say to you about our future prospects. I advise you to leave Black Boy
with Kenley, or sell him if you think it best. I shall be glad to see
you again; you cannot understand how I miss you. Have had no news of the
pearling fleet, but expect they will be back soon. By the way, the only
bit of inferior news I have is that old Silas Filey has gone on a trip
to Shark's Bay. What the deuce takes the old fellow to that outlandish
place I do not know, but he has taken the black pearl with him or else
hidden it somewhere. Wait until he comes back and if he does not give it
up, I'll throttle the life out of him. Another item of news. I saw that
black thief, Kylis, in Fremantle, and he is in funds. Where he got the
money from the Lord knows; but he had the cheek to ask me to assist him
in fitting out a schooner. He said he had over a hundred pounds, and
would I advance him the rest. As we were not near the harbour, or the
river, I had no opportunity of pitching him into the water, but he
evidently understood the meaning of my language and cleared off with a
rapidity seldom seen in the black race. You need not trouble about the
pearl, Silas is sure to have it safe, and I will get it when he
returns."

Jack Redland went to Joel Kenley's, taking the letter with him, and read
it to the trainer.

"Now you will understand why I could not tell you where he had gone,"
said Jack, as he finished Barry's epistle.

"You were perfectly right to keep everything to yourself," replied Joel.
"It is very good of him to send me a hundred pounds."

"You deserve that and more, and I hope you will not refuse if I offer
you another hundred to match it."

"I shall not refuse," replied Joel, "for I know the spirit in which it
is offered."

"Will you take charge of the horses while I am away?" asked Jack. "I
leave for Fremantle by the next boat."

"Willingly; they are both worth keeping in training, and will pay their
way."

"You must run them when you like," said Jack. "Please use them as though
they were your own, and I will leave a couple of hundred pounds to your
credit to back them with."

"I will do my best," said Joel, who appreciated the confidence placed in
him.

Bricky came in for his share of the plums, and found himself in
possession of a far larger sum than he had been accustomed to handle of
late years. Fred Manns, the head lad, had no cause to grumble, nor had
either of the jockeys who rode "the two boys."

"I told you he was a good sort," said Bricky.

"He is," replied Fred Manns, "one of the very best."

It was now public property in Sydney that Barry Tuxford had left
suddenly to claim the best part of the Bundoola Creek Mines, and Jack
Redland was congratulated on all sides at being the partner of such a
successful man.

"I am not his partner," said Jack, "at least I have put no money into
these claims."

"He's called one claim after you, and another after himself, so there
can be no doubt about it," was the reply.

The voyage to Fremantle was tedious to Jack, owing to his impatience to
meet Barry, and hear the news from his own lips. At last the steamer
entered the harbour and he at once went ashore and straight on to Perth.

Barry was not there, but was expected down in the course of the week, so
Jack had to pass the time as best he could. He went back to Fremantle in
the hope that he might come across Silas Filey, and had not been long
there when he met the black, Kylis. The fellow grinned when he saw him,
and Jack felt inclined to knock him down. He smothered his anger and
beckoned to him. Kylis sauntered across the road and asked what he
wanted.

"Tell me how you stole the black pearl out of my waist-belt," said Jack,
quickly, and holding him by the arm.

The black cowed under his angry gaze, and said in a low voice that he
would do as he wished, providing no harm came to him.

"No one shall touch you, tell me everything," said Jack.

Kylis told the story of the robbery and of the sale of the pearl to Amos
Hooker, also how Hooker parted with it for a hundred pounds to one of
Silas Filey's men. He did not say anything about Hooker's death.

All this was interesting to Jack, who wondered at the black's cunning.

"You are a dangerous fellow, Kylis," he said. "Mind and keep out of
trouble in future, here's a sovereign for you."

The black took it with many expressions of gratitude, and then walked
rapidly away.

At last Barry Tuxford returned to Perth, and after a hearty greeting
between them Jack saw he was much altered and that he had suffered a
good deal in health. He was not the same lively Barry Tuxford who had
left him in Sydney, and Jack was troubled.

"You are ill, Barry," he said, anxiously. "You have overworked yourself,
you must rest and have a doctor to see you at once."

"I'm all right, Jack," he said, faintly, "a bit knocked up, that's all;
I shall soon get over it, but I've had a hard job, a precious hard job."

Barry Tuxford was seriously ill, and when the doctor saw him he said
that complete rest and change was what he required.

"He has a constitution of iron," said the doctor, "or he would have
knocked up weeks ago. I warned him of the risk he was running the last
time he was here, but when a man has the gold fever on him the fear of
death will not stop him. He is your friend, Mr. Redland. From what he
has told me I know you have more influence with him than anyone, you
must make him give all this up for a time. Take him to England for a
trip, the voyage will do him more good than all the medicine I can give
him. Once you get him safely out to sea he cannot give you the slip, but
he'll do it here if you do not watch him closely. I never met such a man
before, he's all activity, and his courage is marvellous."

"Is he in any danger?" asked Jack.

"No, not at present, but if this sort of work goes on I will not be
answerable for his health, or life. Do as I advise you, get him away
from it all. Make him go, he has plenty of money and it will be of no
use to him if he loses his health."

"I will do my best," said Jack. "He has promised to go to England with
me when I return, and although I did not mean to go back for a year or
two, I will tell him I have decided to take the trip as soon as
possible."

"That's splendid," said the doctor. "If Barry has given you his promise
he will keep it; I never knew him break his word."




CHAPTER TWENTY-NINTH

_BOUND FOR HOME_


"Barry, I must have a serious talk with you," said Jack.

"All serene, fire away. That blessed doctor has been at you, I can see
it in your face," he replied with a smile.

"You are ill, it is no use trying to hide it. Because you have never
been laid up before you fancy it will go on all right till the end of
time, but it won't. You must rest. All your life you have been a hard
worker, and now you are run down."

"How the deuce can I rest with these mines on our hands? It is too good
a thing to leave go of now we have got the grip. Wait until I have
settled this business and then I am your man."

"How long will it take?" asked Jack.

"Perhaps one year, perhaps two, it may be longer."

"And before then it will not matter to you whether you are rich or poor,
money will be of no use to you."

"What do you mean?"

"What I say, money is of no use to a dead man."

Barry started and his face went a shade paler.

"Doctors are fools," he said.

"Patients who disobey their orders can be placed in that category," said
Jack.

"But I cannot give this thing up yet, Jack, it's not fair either to you
or me."

"Then it will give you up, and as for myself I would sooner have to
start fresh than see any harm befall you."

Barry's face softened. Seldom in his tumultuous life had he heard a
friend speak in this strain.

"I have a suggestion to make," said Jack. "Float the claims into a
company. We can get as much as we want out of the concern in cash and
hold the bulk of the shares. A responsible manager can look after things
and take all the responsibility off your shoulders."

Barry laughed as he replied--

"That means allowing others to reap what we have sown."

"To get in some portion of the crop, I acknowledge," replied Jack, "but
the bulk of the harvest will be ours."

"And supposing I agree, what shall we do?"

"Go to England. You promised to take a trip with me when I returned, and
I know you will keep your promise. Moreover, in the event of a certain
interesting ceremony taking place you promised to be best man. You
cannot back down, and I am going home as soon as I can fix things up
here."

Jack suddenly thought of the letter he had recently received with
Winifred's message to Barry. He had it in his pocket-book, and taking it
out handed it to Barry, saying--

"I am sure you will not refuse when you have read it."

Winifred's message was couched in terms she knew well how to use in
conveying thanks to such a man and it also gave a cordial invitation
from Sir Lester to visit The Downs, if ever he came to England.

"She's a real downright stunner," said Barry. "A splendid girl, there
are not many like her."

"They are few and far between," answered Jack, proudly. "You cannot
refuse now."

"It's a plot," said Barry, "to carry me off. Jack, you are a brigand
chief."

"And your ransom will be a large one, once I get you in my clutches," he
replied, laughing.

Eventually Barry agreed to accompany Jack Redland home, but he
stipulated that they must not start until everything was in working
order.

"We must leave nothing to chance," he said, "there is too much at
stake."

About a month later the pearling schooners arrived at Fremantle, and
Harry Marton reported a prosperous trip. He was pleased beyond measure
to meet Jack again and to hear of his good fortune. There was much to
tell on both sides, and Harry thoroughly approved of his friend's action
in inducing Barry Tuxford to take a holiday.

"Anyone can see he is wearing himself out," said Harry, "and a rest will
do him good; I am sure he deserves it."

"And what about yourself?" asked Jack.

"I shall remain here," replied Harry. "I have no ties to draw me home,
and I have a bit of news to tell you, Jack."

"What is it?"

"I have asked my little girl to come out and risk matrimony, and she has
consented. She's on her way, I believe, with our old friend Captain
Seagrave, of the "Falcon."

"Bravo Harry," said Jack. "So you mean to make your home here?"

"Such is my intention, and thanks to our good friend Barry, the future
seems assured. He wishes me to act as his general manager, whatever that
may mean, and has promised me a share in all his ventures."

"I feel I owe my good fortune to you," said Jack. "I should never have
known Barry Tuxford had it not been for you. When does the "Falcon"
arrive? Does she come to Fremantle?"

"Yes, and ought to be here, I believe, in a few weeks."

"It would not be a bad idea to go home in her," said Jack.

"I am sure Barry would prefer her to one of the mail boats," replied
Harry.

When the result of the pearling expedition was reckoned up, it was found
that a profit of several thousand pounds had been made, and Captain
Danks, Captain Hake, and Jacob Rank, were satisfied with their work.

Silas Filey turned up in due course from Shark's Bay, bringing the news
of the murder of Amos Hooker.

"I'll bet a hundred that black devil, Kylis, did it," said Barry.

"He disappeared from the settlement," said Silas, "and has never
returned."

"He's here, in Perth," said Barry.

"Then let him alone, Amos Hooker was a shocking bad lot," said Silas. He
then told them by what means he secured the black pearl and expressed a
keen desire to buy it.

"It is not for sale," said Barry. "What do you value it at for purposes
of division?"

"About two thousand pounds," said Silas.

"Too much," Barry whispered to Jack.

"Not at all," he replied. "I shall be glad to get it at that price, less
my share."

Silas handed it over with sundry groans and protestations.

"It'll be wasted, fairly wasted," he moaned. "You don't know where to
plant it. I have a customer for it. He's got one black pearl and would
give a small fortune for this. Let me have it, and I'll deal fairly with
you."

Barry handed it to Jack, saying--

"It is your property, will you let him have it?"

"No," thundered Jack, "and as for it's being wasted, let me tell you,
you old humbug, that it will adorn the fairest and best woman in
England. My only regret is that you ever polluted it with your touch."

Silas Filey glared at him angrily as he said--

"Hard words, master, I am only a pearl buyer, and it is my business to
secure the best I can for my clients. I have done the pearl no harm, and
my hands are as clean as most folks."

Jack knew he had spoken hastily and soothed the old man's feelings by
saying--

"If ever I want to part with it, Silas, you shall have first refusal."

Silas nodded, but he knew it was a very remote probability.

It took Barry some time to arrange affairs to his satisfaction, and
eventually it was decided to float the Redland-Barry Mine in London, as
he had had some experience in this line before.

Harry Marton was to be left in sole charge at Perth, with a power of
attorney to act, and the pearling was to continue as usual.

The "Falcon" duly arrived at Fremantle, with Agnes Dixon on board, and
her wedding with Harry Marton was celebrated, Jack acting as best man,
Barry giving a great feast in honour of the occasion. It was generally
acknowledged that Mrs. Harry Marton would be a decided acquisition to
Perth society.

Captain Seagrave was jubilant when he learned Jack Redland and Barry
Tuxford were to be passengers on the homeward voyage.

Jack had not informed Winifred of their intended departure for the old
country, as he wished to give her a surprise.

"The shock will be too much for her," said Barry, "you ought to warn
her, it's not fair."

The night before they were to sail, Jack sat on the verandah of Barry
Tuxford's house thinking over all that had happened during the past few
years. Fortune had indeed favoured him, and the words of the gypsy woman
had come true. Very few men he knew had done so much, or met with such
success in so short a time. His meeting with Harry Marton in London,
appeared to him like a direct intervention of Providence in his favour,
and then came Barry Tuxford, a crowning blessing upon his career. Jack
Redland was grateful for all his good luck, and felt that he ought to be
thankful all his life.

It seemed almost impossible that he should be a rich man, and yet such
was the case, for when the new mine was floated, many thousands would be
at his disposal. He did not pretend to misunderstand Barry Tuxford when
he said he regarded him as a son. He knew Barry's wealth was great, and
that in all probability he would leave him the bulk of it. He hoped
Barry would live for many long years, but in the natural order of things
the older man would go first. The voyage would do him good, add many
years to his life, the doctor said, and Jack looked forward with
pleasure to presenting his generous friend to Sir Lester and Winifred.

His pearl fishing experiences seemed like a dream; it was a rough time,
but he did not dislike it, nay, he had enjoyed it while it lasted, but
he would not care to go through it again.

The black pearl would always recall those days, when he saw Winifred
wearing it.

And Winifred, she was waiting for him, he was sure of that, and yet no
words of love had passed between them, no bond bound them to each other.
Yes, there was a bond, although not a tie, the bond of unspoken love,
and Jack looked forward to the time when he could put his real feelings
into words, and pour them into Winifred's willing ears.

How would she look, what would she do when she first saw him? The
picture he conjured up was wonderfully pleasant, and he kept it to
himself.

The "Falcon" steamed out of Fremantle harbour, and commenced her voyage
to England with Jack Redland and Barry Tuxford on board. As Jack looked
at the fast receding headlands, he wondered if he would ever see them
again. It was hard to say, but the chances were he was leaving Australia
for ever. It seemed ungrateful to cast off the country that had done so
much for him, and yet his lines were cast in other places, and he could
not avoid his fate, a pleasant one, if he would.

Every year, men who have succeeded in life, leave the land in which they
have toiled, to come home to that small spot so blessed amongst the
nations of the earth. They give of their best to other lands, but take
toll in return, and then when the time comes, and Fortune's smiles are
at their best they turn to home, to England, which every son of her soil
regards with a veneration too deep for words.

Jack Redland felt something of this as the "Falcon" steamed on her way.

He had come to love the land he was leaving behind, but he looked
forward with a greater joy to the land that lay beyond the seas. He
would never forget the country that gave him fortune, and helped him to
gain the dearest wish of his heart--the girl he loved.




CHAPTER THIRTIETH

_REALISATION_


"The 'Falcon' has arrived at Tilbury," said Winifred, as she looked at
the shipping news, which had interested her since Jack's departure. "I
wonder if we shall see Captain Seagrave this time."

"And whether he will bring any nice presents from Jack, eh, Win?" said
her father, laughing.

She little knew who had arrived on board the "Falcon," or her joy would
have been unbounded.

"You will come with me to The Downs?" said Jack, as he sat in the
smoking lounge of the Savoy Hotel, with his friend, Barry Tuxford.

"You must go alone, she will not like a stranger to be present at your
meeting."

"You are not a stranger."

"To her I am."

"Not at all, I am sure she already regards you as a friend; so does Sir
Lester," said Jack. He knew, however, that it would be better to do as
Barry wished. Jack's feelings, as he once again found himself in the
Brighton train, can better be imagined than described. Everything was
familiar, and there seemed to be no change in the surroundings. He knew
the time the train left London Bridge without looking at the guide, and
he found there had been no alteration during the years he had been away.

His whole being responded to the sights and sounds that had been so
familiar. He eagerly noted every spot of interest as the train sped on
its way and brought him nearer to his destination and Winifred. He was
coming home as a successful man, and the thought was pleasant. Had he
returned a failure he knew his reception would have been none the less
hearty, but he would have felt very different. Success begets
confidence, and Jack was brimful of it.

At last, Brighton, the dear old place, the scene of so many memories of
the past.

He inhaled the breeze with satisfaction, and walked on to the Marine
Parade to look at the busy scene. He did not linger long, but went round
to his former rooms in the Old Steyne, and found there had been no
change there. His welcome assured him of the hearty reception he would
get at Sir Lester's.

He took a victoria, and drove to within a couple of miles of The Downs,
where he alighted and proceeded on foot.

How beautiful the country looked, so fresh and green, enchanting after
the barren lands he had seen for so long. He walked slowly, as though
loath to reach happiness too soon. Rounding a turn in the road he came
in sight of Sir Lester's house, and his heart beat fast. He halted and
feasted his eyes on the much loved spot, that had never been absent from
his memory, no matter where his lot might be cast.

As he approached the entrance to the drive he saw the flutter of a white
dress on the terrace--it was Winifred. He felt inclined to rush forward
and shout wildly, his exultation was so great that it must break bounds.

As he walked up the drive Winifred saw him, and turning to her father
said--

"There is someone coming, I wonder who it can be."

Then the familiar figure, the well known walk made her heart beat
furiously with a great joy.

"Father, father, it's Jack!" she exclaimed.

"Nonsense, Win, how can it be Jack?"

"It is. I am sure it is. Look, look."

Sir Lester put on his glasses, and said--

"By jove, I believe you are right. Wait and see, we must not make a
ridiculous mistake."

Jack Redland saw they recognised him, and ran forward, sprang up the
terrace steps, and had Winifred in his arms, almost before she had
recovered from her astonishment. She put her arms round his neck and
kissed him, it seemed natural for her to do so, had she not waited a
long time for him?

"It is you, Jack, dear Jack. You have come back to us. Is it really
true?"

"Yes, it is true, Winnie, and I have looked forward to this day during
all the time I have been away."

Sir Lester stood looking on, his face betraying his happiness.

"When you have quite finished with Jack you might allow him to shake
hands with me," he said, smiling.

Winifred blushed, and Jack said, hastily--

"Forgive me, Sir Lester, there is no occasion to tell you now how much
we love each other."

Sir Lester took him by the hand, and said--

"This is the happiest day of my life, Jack. God bless you, my lad, the
shock is almost too much for me, I have not been very strong of late."

He staggered a little, and Jack supported him to a chair.

"Has he been ill?" he asked, turning to Winifred.

"Yes, very ill indeed."

"And if it had not been for Win I should not have pulled through," said
Sir Lester.

During the next two or three days Jack Redland gave them an account of
his varied experiences, and found attentive listeners. He handed the
famous black pearl to Winifred, who was delighted with its dark beauty.

"It must be very valuable," she said.

"Worth a few thousands," said Jack, carelessly.

"He talks about thousands much in the same way as we ordinary mortals do
about pounds," said Sir Lester, laughing. "How delightful it must be to
be a millionaire."

"I am not that," laughed Jack, "far from it; but as we say in the
Colonies, I have made a fair pile, thanks to Barry Tuxford."

"Barry, we have forgotten him; it is ungrateful," said Winifred.

"How did you leave him? He must have been sorry to part with you."

"We did not part, he came with me, he is in London," said Jack.

"And you did not bring him with you," said Sir Lester; "that is
ungrateful."

"He would not come," said Jack.

"Not come, why?" exclaimed Winifred.

"Because he said he did not wish to disturb the joy of our meeting,"
replied Jack, smiling.

"Well done, Barry," said Sir Lester, laughing. "But I hope he will join
us soon."

"Yes, he is waiting for his orders to march," said Jack.

"Then write them at once," answered Sir Lester, "We must welcome the man
who has done so much for you, Jack."

In response to the summons, Barry Tuxford arrived at The Downs, and was
delighted beyond measure with Sir Lester, and Winifred, and everything
he saw.

Sir Lester became much interested in him, and they sat together for
hours on the terrace, Barry relating his adventures, while Jack and
Winifred wandered about the woods and dells, and the birds chanted a
welcome to the lovers.

"So you are to float the Redland-Barry Mine," said Sir Lester. "I should
like to take some shares."

"As many as you wish," replied Barry, "and you shall have them on the
same terms as ourselves. It is a certain thing, Sir Lester, a real good
spec."

Barry Tuxford was right, the Redland-Barry Mine shares went like
wildfire, and there was a rush in 'Change to buy them. Before many weeks
were past Jack was possessed of an ample fortune, and Sir Lester had
increased his capital by the addition of many thousands of pounds.

Barry, to use his own expression, "sat tight" and said little, but he
alone knew the enormous possibilities of the new El Dorado.

Jack, as a matter of form and courtesy, asked Sir Lester for Winifred's
hand. In granting his request, Sir Lester said--

"I have always regarded you as a son, Jack, perhaps that is why I never
contemplated the probability of you and Winifred falling in love. It was
only after you left England that I found out how deeply she was attached
to you. I regretted then that you had left us, but it was all for the
best, although I assure you had you returned a poor man I should have
put no obstacles in your way. I am glad you had the pluck to go out into
the world and fight for your own hand, and nothing gives me more
pleasure than to place in your keeping the future happiness of my
child."

There was no occasion for a long engagement, and Sir Lester insisted
upon Jack taking possession of The Downs until he had purchased a
suitable property for himself.

The wedding proved how great was the popularity of both bride and
bridegroom in the county, for there was an enormous attendance in the
church, and the presents were costly and numerous. Barry Tuxford acted
as best man, and quietly told Sir Lester, after the ceremony, that he
had never gone through such a severe ordeal in his life.

"But it was worth it all to have the privilege of kissing the bride," he
added, at which Sir Lester laughed heartily.

Of course Jack Redland had told Sir Lester all about the victory of
Black Boy, and described the race to him in such a graphic way as to
arouse his enthusiasm.

"I have brought the colours back with me," said Jack, "and hope to wear
them for you before long. I gave Caleb the messages his brother sent and
what do you think he suggested?"

"That the sooner you are in the saddle again the better."

"That was one thing, but he proposed that Black Boy should come over
here and try what he could do on this side," said Jack.

"A capital idea," replied Sir Lester. "How is it to be done?"

"That will not cause much trouble," replied Jack. "When Barry returns he
will see to it, and Joel Kenley will send a good man to be in charge of
him during the voyage."

Barry Tuxford returned to Australia in the "Falcon" with Captain
Seagrave, who had been at Jack's wedding. Before leaving he promised to
take another trip in the course of a year or two.

"And who knows," he added, "but that I may end my days in the old
country?"

"I hope you will," said Winifred. "We shall be charmed to have you near
us. Promise me you will seriously consider it."

"I'd promise anything you asked," said Barry. "I don't know the man who
could resist you, at any rate his name is not Barry Tuxford."

Black Boy arrived safely in England, in charge of Bricky Smiles, who was
induced, without difficulty, to remain with Caleb Kenley, and look after
the horse. Bricky's lot, in his declining days, had fallen in pleasant
places, and he was very grateful to Jack for his kindness.

The Redland-Barry Mine turned out an even greater success than Barry
Tuxford anticipated. The crushings were described as wonderful, and the
shares went up by leaps and bounds, while the dividends were
sufficiently high to make even a South African diamond magnate covetous.

Barry Tuxford arrived in England again in time to stand godfather to
Jack and Winifred's second son, and he was very proud of the position.

"Makes me a sort of guardian of the youngster," he said. "I'll not be
hard on him when he grows up."

"I do not think you will," replied Winifred, smiling. "You could not be
hard upon anyone."

Barry Tuxford made no reply; he had been very hard on some men, but they
deserved it.

Harry Marton frequently wrote to Jack. He had prospered exceedingly, and
was Barry Tuxford's right hand man.

Sir Lester Dyke, now completely restored to health, often had the
pleasure of seeing his son-in-law carry the black and orange jacket to
victory, and during the Sussex fortnight there were no more popular
colours seen on the racecourse.


THE END




SPORTING NOVELS. By NAT GOULD.


    SPORTING SKETCHES.
    A RACECOURSE TRAGEDY.
    WARNED OFF.
    LIFE'S WEB.
    SETTLING DAY.
    KING OF THE RANGES.
    IN ROYAL COLOURS.
    A RACING SINNER.
    BROKEN DOWN.
    THE SILKEN REIN.
    THE THREE WAGERS.
    RAYMOND'S RIDE.
    BRED IN THE BUSH.
    BLUE CAP.
    IN LOW WATER.
    THE GOLD WHIP.
    THE RAJAH'S RACER.
    A STABLE MYSTERY.






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