When the thief left Obed Stackpole's cabin with his booty his heart was filled with exultation. He had been drifting about for years, the football of fortune, oftener down than up, and had more than once known what it was to pass an entire day without food. And all this because he had never been willing to settle down to steady work or honest industry. He had set out in life with a dislike for each, and a decided preference for living by his wits. Theft was no new thing for him. Once he had barely escaped with his life in one of the Western States of America for stealing a horse. He had drifted to Australia, with no idea of working at the mines or anywhere else, but with the intention of robbing some lucky miner and making off with the proceeds of his industry.

Well, he had succeeded, and his heart was light.

"No more hard work for me," he said to himself joyfully, "no more privation and suffering. Now I can live like a gentleman."

It never seemed to occur to him that a thief could by no possibility live like a gentleman. To be a gentleman, in his opinion, meant having a pocketful of money.

He would like to have examined the nugget, but there was no time, nor was there light enough to form an opinion of it. Besides, Obed and the two boys might at any moment discover their loss, and then there would be pursuers on his track. He could not hide it, for it was too large, and anyone seeing what he carried would suspect its nature and character.

The responsibility of property was upon him now. It was an unaccustomed sensation. This thief began now to dread an encounter with other thieves. There were other men, as well as himself, who had little respect for the rights of property, and this he well knew.

"Where shall I go?" he asked himself in perplexity.

It would not do to stay in the neighborhood of the mining camp. By dawn, or as soon as tidings of the robbery should spread, there would be an organized pursuit. In any mining settlement a thief fares hard. In the absence of any established code of laws, the relentless laws of Judge Lynch are executed with merciless severity. Beads of perspiration began to form on the brow of the thief as he realized the terrible danger he had incurred. What good would it do him after all to get away with the nugget if it should cost him his life, and that was a contingency, as his experience assured him, by no means improbable.

"If I were only in Melbourne," he said to himself, "I would lose no time in disposing of the nugget, and then would take the first ship for England—or anywhere else. Any place would be better than Australia, for that will soon be too hot to hold me."

It was one thing to wish, and another to realize the wish. He was still in the immediate vicinity of the mining camp, and there were almost insuperable difficulties in the way of getting far from it with his treasure safe.

The thief kept on his way, however, and after a while reached a piece of woods.

"This will be a good place to hide," he bethought himself. "I may be able to conceal the nugget somewhere."

His first feeling of exultation had given place to one of deep anxiety and perplexity. After, he was not as happy as he anticipated. Only yesterday he had been poor—almost destitute—but at any rate free from anxiety and alarm. Now he was rich, or thought he was, and his heart was filled with nervous apprehension.

He wandered about for two or three hours, weary and feeling great need of sleep, but afraid to yield to the impulse. Suppose he should lose consciousness, and sleep till morning: the first man who found him asleep would rob him of the precious nugget, and then he would be back again where he had been the day before, and for years back. The dream of his life had been fulfilled, and he was in no position to enjoy it. Oftentimes God grants our wishes only to show us how little they add to our happiness.

It was no light burden—this heavy nugget which he was forced to carry with him, and, drowsy as he was, more than once he stumbled with it and came near falling. But at last he saw before him a cabin—deserted, apparently—and his heart was filled with joy. It would afford him a place to obtain needed repose, and there would be some means of hiding his rich treasure.

He peered timidly into the cabin and found it empty. On the floor in the corner was a pallet. He put the nugget under the upper part, thus raising it and supplying the place of a pillow. It was hard enough, as the reader will imagine, but it was better than nothing; and appeared to combine safety with a chance to rest.

The thief fell asleep, and slept soundly. When he awoke it was bright, and the morning was evidently well advanced. In an instant consciousness came, and with anxious thought he felt for the nugget. It was still there, as he realized joyfully. He was on the point of examining it, when a step was heard. He looked up startled, and saw a man entering the cabin. This man was such another as himself—an adventurer—and the tramp remembered to have seen him about the camp. He was an ill-favored man, poorly dressed, and might have passed for a brother of the first comer so far as his moral qualities and general appearance were concerned.

"Halloa!" the new arrival said, gazing with a little surprise at the prostrate man.

"Halloa," returned the other, surveying the new arrival with apprehension.

"Is this your crib?"

"No, I'm only passing the night here."

"Haven't I seen you at the mines?"

"Yes, I have been there."

"And now you are leaving, are you?"

"I don't know exactly. I haven't made up my mind."

"Well I am. I'm out of luck."

"So am I."

"There's nothing to be done at the mines."

"Just my idea!"

"Humph! what do you think of doing?"

"I don't know. I want to get away for one thing."

"So do I. Suppose we keep company, friend. Two are more social than one, eh?"

This proposal gave the first man anxious thought. If he had a companion, he could not hide for any length of time the fact that he was in possession of the nugget. Yet he did not know how to refuse without exciting suspicion. The new arrival noticed it, and it stirred up anger in him.

"Perhaps I aint good enough for you?" he said, frowning.

"No, no, it isn't that," said the first eagerly.

"Don't you want me to go with you?" demanded the new arrival bluntly. "Yes or no."

"Have you got any money?" asked the thief, "because I haven't."

"No more have I. We'll be equal partners."

"Then I'm afraid we won't get very far."

"You'll get as far as I will. But I say, what is that under your head, pard?"

The question had come at last. The thief trembled, and answered nervously:

"It's—it's—I am using it for a pillow," he faltered.

"Let us see your pillow," said the new arrival suspiciously.

The thief came to a sudden determination, suggested by necessity. Two would make a stronger guard than one, and, though this man was not the one he would have selected, accident had thrown them together, and he would risk it.

"Look here, my friend," he said, "it's a great secret."

"Oh, a secret, is it?"

"Yes, but I am going to make you my confidant. I am greatly in need of a friend and partner, and I'll make it worth your while to stand by me. I'll give you a quarter of—what I have here—if you'll see me safe to Melbourne."

"What is it, pard? Out with it, quick!"

"It's—a nugget, and the biggest one that's been found at Bendigo since they commenced mining."

"A nugget! Great Jehoshaphat! Let me see it!"

The thief drew the bundle—still wrapped in Obed's red bandanna—from underneath the pallet, while his companion in intense excitement bent over to catch a glimpse of the treasure.