The young fellow was terribly frightened, and was begging for mercy in the most piteous tones, and appealing to those by whom he was surrounded to save him, for he was innocent of the crime, and never stole a dollar in his life.  There was something in the lad’s face that convinced me that he spoke the truth, yet we did not like to interfere and get the wrath of the ruffians turned upon ourselves, and yet we did not care to stand idly by and witness the ill-treatment of a boy, who seemed unused to the rough scenes of the mines.  Each of his captors had a hand upon his collar, and even during the excitement I could not help contrasting the fineness of his skin with the horny, leather-colored skin of his accusers.

“So help me Heaven, gentlemen, I never stole any thing in my life,” cried the lad; and his voice was soft, and so different from those by whom he was surrounded, I was convinced he belonged to some aristocratic family, and had sliced to Australia in search of fortune, perhaps to help sustain his sinking house.

“You lie, you young whelp; you know you lie,” cried one of the miners, shaking the boy by the collar so roughly that I was fearful he would dislocate his bones.

“I do not lie, gentlemen; upon my honor, I do not.  Don’t choke me so hard—­you hurt me,” cried the boy, putting a small hand upon the miner’s rough paws, as though his slight strength was likely to effect any thing in the way of obtaining a cessation of their cruelty.

“I’ve had my eye on you for some time,” cried one of the men, “and I knew I should get hold of you at last.  What was you doing in our tent when we woke up this morning?  Answer me that, will you?”

Between them both they shook the boy so roughly that he burst into tears, and was incapable of uttering a word.  This, instead of exciting feelings of compassion in the breasts of the miners, caused them to shout with sardonic laughter, and mock him by sobbing in imitation.  It was during the latter performance that Fred, followed by myself, squeezed into the small circle and confronted the two half-civilized brutes.

“Don’t hurt the lad,” cried Fred, in a mild tone.  “He is nothing but a boy, and if he did take your dust perhaps he can make some explanation that will satisfy you.”

“Hullo,” ejaculated one of the fellows, with a stare, “who in the devil are you, I should like to know?”

“That is of no consequence, at present,” replied Fred, in a tone of excessive mildness.  “The question is regarding this boy.  I think there must be some mistake in your accusations, and if you will give him into my charge I will make up to you all that he has taken, provided you can prove that you have lost any thing.”

“Hullo, boys, here’s a couple of the young thief’s pals.  Down with ’em both.”

We had expected such a cry, and knew how to meet it.  Instead, therefore, of looking frightened, and attempting to escape from the circle, we remained perfectly cool and self-possessed, and those who had pressed forward to lay hands upon us drew back and awaited further developments.