instant the four sacks were dropped softly into the feathery
bottom and the ashes raked over. The daring manoeuvre was almost
as quick as the flash of woman's wit that prompted it, and was
carried through while the answer to Dextry's question was still
unspoken.

Then Glenister opened the door carelessly and admitted the group
of men.

"We've got a search-warrant to look through your house," said
Voorhees.

"What are you looking for?"

"Gold-dust from Anvil Creek."

"All right--search away."

They rapidly scoured the premises, covering every inch, paying no
heed to the girl, who watched them with indifferent eyes, nor to
the old man, who glared at their every movement. Glenister was
carelessly sarcastic, although he kept his right arm free, while
beneath his sang-froid was a thoroughly trained alertness.

McNamara directed the search with a manner wholly lacking in his
former mock courtesy. It was as though he had been soured by the
gall of defeat. The mask had fallen off now, and his character
showed--insistent, overbearing, cruel. Towards the partners he
preserved a contemptuous silence.