“I am as strong as a lion for revenge.  Tell them I would not miss to-morrow’s work for all the gold in Australia.”

The lowering face spoke loud enough if the mouth whispered.

The message was brought back to Black Will and Crawley.

“What energy!” said Crawley, admiringly.

“Ay!” said Black Will, “that is your sort; give me a pal with his skin smarting and his bones aching for the sort of job that wood shall see to-morrow.  Have they marked him?” he inquired, with a strange curiosity.

“I am afraid they have; his nose is smashed frightful.”

“I am glad of it; now we are brothers and will have blood for blood.”

“Your expressions are dreadfully terse,” said Crawley, trying to smile, but looking scared instead; “but I don’t understand your remark; you were not in the late unsuccessful attack on Mr. Levi, and you escaped most providentially in the night business—­the men have not marked you, my good friend.”

“Haven’t they?” yelled the man, with a tremendous oath—­“haven’t they?  LOOK HERE!” A glance was enough.  Crawley turned wan and shuddered from head to foot.

CHAPTER LXVI.

WE left Robinson and Jem talking at the entrance to the tent.

“Come in,” said Robinson.  “You will take care of this tent while we are gone.”

Jem promised faithfully.

He then asked Robinson to explain to him the dodge of the gut-lines.  Robinson showed him, and how the bells were rung at his head by the thief’s foot.

Jem complimented him highly.

Robinson smiled, but the next moment sighed.  “They will be too clever for us some of these dark nights—­see how nearly they have nicked us again and again!”

“Don’t be down on your luck, captain!”

“Jem, what frightens me is the villains getting off so; there they are to try again, and next time the luck will be theirs—­it can’t be always ours—­why should it?  Jem, there was a man in my tent last night.”

“There is no denying that, captain.”

“Well, Jem, I can’t get it off my heart that I was to kill that man, or he me.  Everything was on my side.  I had my gut-lines, and I had a revolver and a cutlass—­and I took up the cutlass like a fool; if I had taken up the revolver the man would be dead.  I took up the wrong, and that man will be my death.  The cards never forgive!  I had the odd trick, and didn’t take it—­I shall lose the game.”

“No, ye shan’t,” cried Jem, hastily.  “What if the man got clear for the moment, we will hunt him out for you.  You give me his description.”

“I couldn’t,” said Robinson, despondingly.  “It was so dark!  Here is his pistol, but that is no use.  If I had but a clew, ay, ever so slight, I’d follow it up; but no, there is none.  Hallo, what is the matter!  What is it? what on earth is the man looking at like that?”