The quarrel between Dick and Jacker McKnight that originated under the school was quite forgotten in the resulting excitement.  It was a mere incident in any case, and would have made no material difference in their friendship.  It had not kept Jacker from visiting the Mount of Gold on the same night with information and supplies, and now the boy was cheerfully unconscious of the black eye that still ornamented his broad visage.  There were two well-worn shovels and a miner’s pick in the drive.  Jacker seized the pick.

‘Might as well put in a bit of work,’ he said.

‘Hold hard,’ replied Dick, ‘Smoke-ho, old man.  What’s goin’ on on top?’

‘Whips!  They had a meetin’ about youse last night—­Jo, an’ Rogers, an’ my dad, an’ ole Tinribs, an’ the rest.  They’re all after you.  You’re fairly in fer it.’

Dick’s face became radiant with magnificent ideas.

‘What!  You don’t mean they’re goin’ t’ form a band t’ capture us?’

‘Well, they sorter agreed about somethin’ like that.’

’My word, that’s into our hands, ain’t it?  Lemme see, we must be a band of bushrangers what’s robbed the gold escort an’ the mounted p’lice’re huntin’ us in the ranges.  I’ll be—­yes, I’ll be Morgan.  An’ Ted—!  What’ll we make Ted?  I know—­I know.  He’ll be my faithful black boy, what’ll rather die than leave me.  You fellers bring a cork to-morrow, an’ we’ll pretty quick make a faithful black boy of Twitter.’

All eyes were turned upon Ted, who did not seem in the least impressed by the magnificent prospect.  Indeed, the faithful native was palpably out of sorts; he took no part in the enthusiasm of his mates, his face was pale, and funk was legible in the diffident eye he turned upon the company.  Dick noted this and put in an artful touch or two.

‘Jacky-Jacky, the faithful black boy,’ he said; ‘brave as a lion, an’ the best shot in the world—­better’n me!

The ruse was not successful.  Ted failed to respond.

‘Twitter don’t seem to want to be no black boy,’ said Phil.

‘I’ll be Jacky-Jacky,’ volunteered Peterson eagerly.

Peterson was a stolid youth with a face like a wooden doll; absolutely reliable since he was as stubborn under adult rule as a whole team of unbroken bullocks, and quite reckless of consequences for the reason that he never anticipated them.  Peterson would have made a most successful Jacky-Jacky, but his suggestion was overlooked in the general concern inspired by Ted’s conduct.

Feeling the eyes of the party upon him, Ted grew more uneasy, the corners of his mouth drew down, one finger went up slowly, and Twitter began to snivel.

‘I—­I—­w—­wa—­want to go home,’ he said.

The mates looked at each other in amazement.  Ted was little, but his pluck had been tried on many occasions, and this was a great surprise.

‘Well, he’s on’y a kiddy,’ said Phil pityingly, and with the superiority two years may confer.