‘I’ve thought of that—­trust me.’

Harry Hardy’s appearance below with the afternoon shift at the Stream occasioned a good deal of talk amongst the miners; but he heard none of it.  Shine was in the searching-shed when he came up at midnight, on his knees amongst the men’s discarded clothes, pawing them over with his claw-like fingers.

The searcher rarely spoke to the men, never looked at them, and performed his duties as if unconscious of their presence.  Custom had made him exceedingly cautious, for it was the delight of the men to play tricks upon him, usually of an exceedingly painful nature.  The searcher is no man’s friend.  When putting on his dry clothes, Harry heard Joe Rogers, the foreman, saying: 

‘D’yer know them’s Harry Hardy’s togs yer pawin’, Brother Tinribs?’

Shine’s mud-coloured eyes floated uneasily from one form to another, but were raised no higher than the knees of the men, seemingly.

’Yes, search ’em carefully, Brother.  I s’pose you’d like ter jug the whole family.  ’Taint agin yer Christian principles, is it, Mr. Superintendent, to send innocent men to gaol?  Quod’s good fer morals, ain’t it?  A gran’ place to cultivate the spirit o’ brotherly love, ain’t it—­eh, what?  Blast you fer a snivellin’ hippercrit, Shine!  If yer look sidelong at me I’ll belt you over—­’

Rogers made an ugly movement towards the searcher; but Peterson and another interposed, and he returned to the form, spitting venomous oaths like an angry cat.  Shine, kneeling on the floor, had gone on with his work in his covert way, as if quite unconscious of the foreman’s burst of passion.

CHAPTER IX.

Jacker Mack’s report having been entirely favourable, the invasion of Summers’ orchard was under taken at dinner-time on the Tuesday following.  The party, which consisted of Dick Haddon, Jacker McKnight, Ted, Billy Peterson, and Gable, started for the paddocks immediately school was out, intending to make Jock Summers compensate them for the loss of a meal.  It was not thought desirable to take Gable, but he insisted, and Gable was exceedingly pig-headed and immovable when in a stubborn mood.  Dick tried to drive him back, but failed; when the others attempted to run away from him the old man trotted after them, bellowing so lustily that the safety of the expedition was endangered; so he was allowed to stand in.

‘He’ll do to keep nit,’ said Dick.

Gable could not run in the event of a surprise and a pursuit, but that mattered little, as it was long since known to be hopeless to attempt to extract evidence from him, and his complicity in matters of this kind was generously overlooked by the people of Waddy.

The expedition was not a success.  Dick planned it and captained it well; but the best laid plans of youth are not less fallible than those of mice and men, and one always runs a great risk in looting an orchard in broad daylight—­although it will be admitted, by those readers who were once young enough and human enough to rob orchards, that stealing cherries in the dark is as aggravating and unsatisfactory an undertaking as eating soup with a two-pronged fork.