This young fellow allowed himself to be thrown off, and backed into the crowd.  The long man, who had recovered his wind, turned to address the men.

‘It’s Solo, mates,’ he said, ’and there’s five hundred waiting for us if we take him.’

The men moved forward in a body, but just then a pewter crashed into the lamp, and there was darkness.  Acting on his new friend’s advice, Done cleared the counter at a bound, and dived under the canvas.  Picking himself up, he ran into the darkness.  He heard footsteps following him, and increased his pace, stumbling on the strange ground.  But a voice assured him.

‘Keep to the right!  Make for cover!’ panted his pursuer.

VII

Finding only one man following, Jim Done ceased running on reaching a clump of trees, and presently he was joined by the young Australian who had aided him.

‘My colonial, you sprint like an emu!’ gasped the latter.  ’All the same, that was a mad sort o’ thing to do.’

‘What was?’

‘Why, showin’ yourself ’bout here with the cheek of a dashed commissioner, while there’s five hundred on your head, hot or cold, live or dead, an’ every trooper in the country whim’ to give his long ears to pot you.’

‘But you are quite wrong; I’m not this Solo.’

’Not Solo!  That won’t wash.  Wasn’t I there with Long Aleck when you got away with the gold Hoban hid in our nosebag other side o’ Geelong?’

’You’re on the wrong scent.  My name is Done.  I’m a new chum, landed only this morning off the Francis Cadman.’

‘Here, let’s look you over again.’  The stranger struck a match, and, shielding it with his hands, examined Jim’s face.  ‘Dunno,’ he said, ’but p’r’aps you are a bit young.  Still, rig a beard around that chiv of yours, and it’s Solo to the life.’

’If it’s worth while, walk down to the ship with me, and I’ll satisfy you in two minutes.’

Your word’s good enough for me.  Solo or no, taint my deal.’

’Well, you’ve gone to some trouble to help me out of a hole, and I’m obliged.’  Done offered his hand, and the other shook it heartily.  ’You might tell me who and what this Solo is,’ continued Jim.

‘Smartest, coolest, most darin’ gold-thief in Australia.  Outlawed for robbery under arms, wanted by all the police ’tween here and the Murray, and his head’s worth five hundred to you ’r me, ’r any yob that can rob him of it.  He works alone.  What his right name is no one knows.’

‘That’s all a bright look-out for me!’ laughed Jim.  ’But if he’s such an infernal scoundrel, and he’s robbed you among the rest, why come to his rescue?’

‘’Pon my soul, I dunno I’ replied the Australian, scratching his head dubiously, ’’less it’s ’cause of his pluck ‘n’ the dashed pleasant, gentlemanly way he has o’ doin’ things.  By the way, what ’re you out for?  Goin’ diggin’?  Got a mate?  Where ‘re you makin’?’