“Pay money now—­no pay money now, go!” repeated the inspector, who managed to make himself understood.

“No pay,” the old fellow said, and as the sounds escaped his lips, the sergeant dismounted from his horse and approached him.

“Come,” that worthy said, and he laid his huge hand upon the Celestial, in close proximity to his pigtail.

“No go,” repeated Yam.

“Start your stumps,” cried the policeman; and he lifted the Chinaman from the ground by his pigtail, and almost held him at arm’s length.

“Me pay! me pay!” he roared, to the great delight of the police, and a few of Yam’s countrymen who were standing near.

The sergeant released the old fellow, and he rapidly uttered a number of expressions in his native tongue, that I will swear were not complimentary to the English character.

After he had thus vented his anger, he drew from the folds of his inside trousers a little bag of dust, which, upon being weighed, was found to contain just the amount, to a scale, that was required for the payment of his tax, and after checking his name, we rode on.

In this manner the tax was collected from the miners of Ballarat.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

Murden and Steel Spring arrive from Melbourne.

We were sitting in our store eating supper one afternoon, about a week after our tax-collecting tour, and were wondering why Smith did not make his appearance, as he certainly had been gone long enough, and were debating the propriety of writing or visiting Melbourne for the purpose of finding him, when a person, dressed quite respectably, but wearing a slouched hat over his eyes, that entirely concealed his face, entered the store and looked around as though anxious to purchase goods, but was disappointed in not meeting with an assortment.

“We shall be happy to serve you in a few days,” Fred said.  “Our stock is on the road, and will he here shortly.”

“Vell, I guess I can vait,” returned a voice that sounded familiar, and our visitor removed his hat and revealed the not over-pleasing countenance of Steel Spring.

We could hardly believe the evidence of our senses, yet there stood the cunning scamp before us, with his long limbs and lank body, as supple as ever, and grinning with delight at our astonishment.

“I ’ope you’ve not forgotten old friends,” he said, extending his hand, which neither of us accepted, but which act did not discompose him in the least; for he only grinned the harder, and appeared to look upon our refusal as a matter of course.  “Where did you come from?” I asked, as soon as I recovered from my astonishment.

“The old place—­Melbourne; ’ave ’ad lots of fun there, but thought I’d look at the country for a change of air.  Can’t stay long, though; so don’t press me to stop over a week.”

“You certainly have lost none of your impudence by residing at Melbourne,” Fred replied, and the fellow grinned at the compliment.  “But tell us how you escaped from prison,” Fred continued.