robbery under arms, wanted by all the police 'tween here and the Murray,
and his head's worth five hundred to you 'r me, 'r any yob that can rob
him of it. He works alone. What his right name is no one knows.'

'That's all a bright look-out for me!' laughed Jim. 'But if he's such an
infernal scoundrel, and he's robbed you among the rest, why come to his
rescue?'

''Pon my soul, I dunno I' replied the Australian, scratching his head
dubiously, ''less it's 'cause of his pluck 'n' the dashed pleasant,
gentlemanly way he has o' doin' things. By the way, what 're you out for?
Goin' diggin'? Got a mate? Where 're you makin'?'

'I'm going digging. I have no mate. I can't say what field I'm making for
till I know more about them.'

'Look here, take in my points.' The native struck another match, and held
it that Done might make an inventory of his perfections. 'Five foot ten
high, strong as a horse, sound in wind and limb, know the country, know
the game, been on three fields, want a mate. Name's Micah Wentworth
Burton--Mike for short. Got all traps, pans, shovels, picks, cradle, tub,
windlass, barrow. Long Aleck--chap that attacked you--was my mate; he's
turning teamster. Take me on, an' here's my hand. We're made for a pair.'

Burton stopped for lack of wind. He jerked his words with a slight nasal
intonation, and his manner and his action indicated a characteristic
impetuosity. Done was astounded at his own seeming good fortune and the
other's rash confidence.

'Come,' he said doubtingly, 'do you mean to say you'll go into