“I am sorry to say that it is; but this is not unusual; before you leave the mines you will see cases of selfishness that will make you think men have turned brutes, and possess the hearts of stoics,” replied Mr. Brown, with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I confess,” Fred said, speaking so that those present could hear him, “that I have not lost all feelings of humanity, and that I never turned a deaf ear, or calculated what I should make by assisting a person in distress.  The customs of Ballarat may be just, but I must say, that in my humble opinion, they are heartless and cruel.”

“Hoot, man,” replied the Scotchman; “you are but a boy, and have not been long enough here to understand us.  It’s little silver or gold ye will git if ye run after other people’s business.”

The Scotchman relighted his pipe, and was walking towards his tent, when Fred stopped him.

“What shall I pay you per hour for assisting to rescue the miners?” he asked.

“Ah, now man, ye is talking to some purpose, now.  What will you give?”

“Two shillings per hour,” answered Fred, at a venture.

“Ah, well, I don’t mind helping the poor fellows, at that rate.  I never could stand distress.  But, Misther, ye wouldn’t mind paying in advance, I suppose?”

“I will be responsible for your pay,” the inspector said, seeing that the man hesitated from fear that he should get cheated, after he had performed his part of the bargain.

The fellow, luckily, had an axe with him, so, without more delay, we lowered him into the shaft, and set him at work shoring up the sides, so that others could work without danger of the earth caving in.

We had just got him employed, when Bill, the man who had first appealed to the inspector for help, again joined us, having been absent in search of friends to lend assistance.

“I can’t get a man to aid me,” he cried, “unless I promise to pay them for their labor.”

“Well, then, you must pay them,” briefly rejoined the inspector, who, with coat off, was hard at work cutting timber in proper lengths for shores and supports.

“And ruin myself by so doing,” the heartless wretch exclaimed, in a sulky manner, and with the expression of a fiend.

The inspector made no reply, but continued his labor, and without delay we joined him.

“I don’t suppose these young fellers would be willin’ to allow me two shillin’s per hour for workin’, would they?” the impudent scamp asked, appealing to the inspector.

“Hark ye, Bill,” Mr. Brown said; “if you are not stripped and in that shaft in less than five minutes, I’ll not only drive you from the mines, but I’ll levy on your property to pay all the expenses of this job.  I know where you keep your dust, and can lay my hand on it at any time.”

The brute, without a moment’s delay, removed his heavy guernsey frock which he wore, and was lowered to a place beside the Scotchman.