“But you could not have spent your share of the plunder,” said Mr. Brown, in a soothing, conciliating tone.

The bushranger stopped, and looked full in the face of the inspector, and a glow of triumph overspread his face as he answered,—­

“I understand your question, but it will not do.  When I die, I carry all knowledge of the place where the dust is buried to the grave, and you shall never see a grain of it.  I have you there, and will enjoy my triumph.”

“But perhaps a disclosure may obtain your pardon; and surely, for your life you would give up the gold,” the inspector said, still maintaining a cheerful deportment.

“The trick is stale, and will not answer,” the ruffian returned, with a hoarse laugh; “you may load me with chains, and starve me to death, but I’ll never divulge the secret!”

As though he did not wish to converse further upon the subject, the bushranger turned his back upon us, and maintained a stoical silence until we reached Ballarat.

“I have overcome more remonstrance than you will offer, my friend,” the inspector muttered, in a low tone; “the gold that you have buried shall yet be brought to light.”

“Were you in earnest in promising a pardon?” I asked of Mr. Brown.

“In promising, yes; in expecting to get it granted, I tell you frankly, no.  We have to resort to many ways to accomplish our ends, and promises work well; and why should we scruple to use them?  The gold that fellow has buried somewhere near here will help enrich three honest, men—­meaning us—­and would it not be a shame to let the fellow die without divulging?”

“But I supposed that property recovered from bushrangers went to government, unless the rightful owners claimed it.”

“So it does, when the owner can prove that the gold dust belongs to him.  Rather a difficult thing, you will imagine; and to prevent dispute, we generally take care of it.  Depend upon it, that fellow will make a confession to me, a few days before his execution, and with the hope of receiving a pardon.  After his death, I shall know whether he has lied or not.  If he sticks to the truth, as one would naturally suppose he would, just before his death, we may calculate upon having done a good day’s work.”

We contrasted the inspector’s idea of right, and wrong with Murden’s, his brother officer, and found that there was but little difference between them.  Both were determined to make money when it was possible, and were, sometimes, not overscrupulous in their transactions.

It was the effect of a system which belonged exclusively to Australia, and the jealousy of a government that did not recognize talent unless backed by influence.  The police were not looked upon as men of character and trust; and they retaliated by making money as fast as possible, so that they could leave the force, and enter into business more in accordance with the feelings of gentlemen.