“Is any thing more customary?” asked Fred, with a slight sneer.

“Well sometimes, when it’s a pretty bad case, I’ve known a feller to come down liberally with beer; but of course you can do as you please about that.  They sell first rate at the Californe saloon—­new tap, just arrived,” and Charley’s eyes sparkled at the prospect of getting a drink.

“Then, perhaps, as I and my friend are strangers here, you will do me the pleasure of acting as master of ceremonies, and order what you think fit.”

“But you’ll pay for the fixens, you know,” our friend said, with true Yankee sagacity; and as he spoke he watched narrowly to see if the money was forthcoming to back up the request.

“Certainly,” answered Fred, with a melancholy smile at the prospect before him.  He drew from his pocket a number of gold pieces and handed them to Charley, who clutched them with avidity.

“I say, Bob,” our California friend exclaimed, running to the entrance of the tent; “it’s all right.  Tell the folks to wait, and we’ll have something to wet their whistles.  He’s come down handsomely, and no mistake.”

“Any orders?” asked the fellow addressed as Bob.

“Yes, indeed; go down to my place and tell my partner that we’ll be there in a few minutes, and that we intend to drink him dry afore morning.”

“A pleasant prospect,” I muttered, in an undertone, to Fred.  “It seems that the fellow is proprietor of a saloon, and is determined that we shall pay him for his trouble by drinking all that he has got.”

Charley intimated that he would show us the way, but Fred held back.

“Why can’t you drink your ale without my presence?” he asked, impatiently.

“’Cos we don’t approve of haristocracy here in Ballarat, and it would make the miners think that you didn’t want to ’sociate with ’em.  It wouldn’t do.”

“But if you should tell them that I am slightly injured, and need rest, wouldn’t that have some effect?” Fred inquired, driven almost to desperation.

“Well, the only effect it would have you’d be obliged to receive the folks in your tent, and perhaps that would not be agreeable.  But you can do jist as you please, remember.  I’ve been at Ballarat for six months, and I should think I know’d the ideas and habits of the miners purty well.”

“For Heaven’s sake, let us go to your place without delay, and get through with the business.  I’ve half a mind to turn my back upon Ballarat to-morrow,” cried Fred.

“You won’t do that, I reckon, while there’s so much of the root of all evil in the ground.  Why, I s’pose you come up here to get rich, and you is going jist the right way to work to do it.  To-morrow you’ll be the most popular man in the mines, and there’s no telling what the boys may do for you.  Perhaps send you a delegate to the governor-general, to ask him to clip off the taxes which we have to pay for digging gold.  I tell you there’s a brilliant future before you, so come along.”