The Gold Hunter's Adventures Or, Life In Australia Volume 2 ( Of 2 ) - William H. Thomes (large screen ebook reader txt) 📗
- Author: William H. Thomes
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Defined The Original Color Of The Cloth. His Wig Was Black, And
Contrasted With His Saturnine Complexion, And As Long As He Held His
Tongue He Would Have Passed Muster As A Native Of Italy.
"Well," Inquired Mr. Brown, Surveying Our Disguise With Approval, "Is
Every Thing Ready?"
We Assured Him That, As Far As We Were Concerned, We Were, And Impatient
To Set Out Without Delay.
"Where Is Steel Spring?" Mr. Brown Asked, While Sipping His Punch, With
A Gratified Expression Upon His Face That Showed How Highly He Enjoyed
It.
"We Are To Meet Him At Dan's At One O'clock."
"Then We Had Better Be Moving," The Inspector Said, Emptying His Glass,
And Rising. "I Heard From One Of My Folks To-Night, And He Tells Me That
The Gathering Is Unusually Large At The 'Cricket,' And To Prevent
Mistakes, I Have Stationed A Small Force Of Trusty Men Within Sound Of A
Call In Case They Are Required."
We Left Rover In Charge Of The Store And The Sick Man, And Locked Up,
And Then Picked Our Way Towards Gravel Pit Hill, Where The "Cricket" Was
Located.
Mr. Brown Was In High Spirits, And Once Called Down The Wrath Of A
Guardian Of The Night Because Mr. B. Insisted Upon Showing Us The Extent
And Volume Of His Voice.
At Length We Gained "Gravel Pit Hill," And Had No Difficulty In Finding
The Celebrated "Cricket,"--A House That Made Some Pretensions To Size
And Boards, For It Was Two Stories High, With A Large Hall, Or Bar-Room,
On The First Floor, And Three Or Four Smaller Rooms Leading From It. The
Small Rooms Were For The _Elite_ Of The Bushranging Profession, And When
There Was Too Great A Cry For A Notorious Robber, He Was Accommodated
With Private Quarters Where He Could Enjoy His _Lush_ Undisturbed By
The Thoughts Of Police Officers. The "Cricket" Appeared To Be Unusually
Light And Brilliant, For The Sharp Squeaking Of A Violin Was Heard, And
The Trilling Of A Clarinet Blended With The Catgut In Most Discordant
Notes.
"Now, Gentlemen," The Inspector Said, Stopping Short, And Laying His
Hands Upon Our Arms, "We Have Got To Manage This Matter With Some Skill,
Or We Shall Hardly Escape Without A Blow From A Knife, Or A Pistol Shot,
Two Very Desirable Things If We Use The Weapons With Which They Are
Inflicted, But Bad If In Other Hands. Let Me Caution You To Study Each
Word That You Utter, And To Maintain Perfect Control Over Your Muscles.
Now, Then, Are You Ready?"
We Answered In The Affirmative, And Once More Strode On Until We Reached
The Stout Door That Separated The "Cricketers" From The Outer World. It
Was Closed As We Expected, For Steel Spring Had Informed Us That After A
Certain Hour At Night All Ingress Had To Be Made By Giving A Password,
Volume 2 Chapter 55 (Adventures At Dan Brian's Drinking-House) Pg 78And He Had Kindly Provided Us With The Magic Expression To Be Used.
Mr. Brown Dealt A Stout Blow Upon The Door, And While We Listened For A
Response The Music Ceased, And All Was Quiet As A Churchyard Within The
House. We Could Hear Whispering Near The Door As Though Debating Our
Business, And Who We Were.
Again Did The Inspector Deal The Door Heavy Blows, And While He Rested A
Hoarse Voice Asked,--
"What's Wanted Out There?"
"We Wish To Come In--Open The Door, And Don't Keep Us Away From, The
Lush All Night," Responded The Inspector.
"But Who Are You?" Queried Our Interrogator.
"We Is Fakey Kens And Quiddling Coves," Mr. Brown Answered, Adopting The
Flash Language, Most In Vogue Among Thieves At Ballarat.
"If You Is Fakey Coves You Should Know The _Dig_," Was The Response,
Meaning That We Should Know The Password.
"Bush And Bush," Cried Mr. Brown, Promptly, Being The Words Which Steel
Spring Had Informed Us Would Carry Us Into The House Without Delay.
"Why Didn't You Go For To Say So In The Fust Place," Growled The
Doorkeeper; And We Heard A Heavy Bar Removed, And A Bolt Drawn, And Then
The Door Was Opened Just Wide Enough For Us To Squeeze In One By One,
And After We Stood In The Large Room, Where Twenty Or Thirty Persons
Were Congregated, It Was Instantly Shut, And Again Secured, And Our
Retreat Was Cut Off Had We Been Disposed To Have Left The Choice Company
Before Us In A Summary Manner.
I Had Time To Glance Around The Apartment And Take A Brief Survey Of The
Assembly Before The Ruffian Who Guarded The Door Had Bolted It, And I
Must Confess That My Impression Was Not Very Favorable. As I Said
Before, There Were Between Twenty And Thirty Persons In The Room, All
With Such Villanous-Looking Countenances That A Jury Would Have Hanged
Them Without A Word Of Evidence In Regard To Their Guilt. The Very
_Creme De La Creme_ Of Scoundrelism Was Before Us, Plotting A Recruiting
From Deeds Of Crime, And Ready To Cut A Man's Throat For A Pound.
The Apartment Was Filled With Smoke, For Each Man Had A Clay Pipe In His
Mouth, And Was Puffing Away In A State Of Great Enjoyment. Along The
Walls Of The Room Were Common Pine Tables, With Rude Benches And But A
Few Rough Chairs. The Tables Were Nailed To The Floor, Or Confined By
Iron Staples; And I Afterwards Learned That The Plan Was Adopted By The
Proprietor Of The House To Save His Property, As Sometimes His Guests
Got Angry, And Were In The Habit Of Breaking Chairs Over The Heads Of
Adversaries--A Custom Which Had Been Discontinued, Owing To The
Shrewdness Of Dan In Looking After Number One. Of Course, The Knife And
Pistol Were The Next Resort; But That Was A Matter Of The Most Supreme
Indifference To Dan, Who Didn't Care How Many Were Killed Or Wounded As
Long As They Didn't Injure Him Or What Belonged To Him.
Every Man Was Drinking, Or Had A Pot Of Ale Or A Glass Of Rum Before
Him; And In One Corner Of The Apartment Were Half A Dozen Persons
Asleep, Or Else Dead Drunk, And Even Beside Them Were Glasses Or Pewter
Cups.
At The Farthest End Of The Room From The Street Was A Small Bar, Behind
Which Dan, With Coat Off And Shirt Sleeves Rolled Up, Was The Presiding
Genius, And To Show His Aristocracy Was Smoking A Cigar.
He Scanned Us With His Sharp Black Eyes When We Entered, As Though
Wondering Who We Were; But Apparently Satisfied That We Were "Kenkly
Coves," Or First-Class Thieves, He Turned His Attention To More
Congenial Matters, And Refreshed His Inner Man With A Stiff Glass Of
Rum, Diluted With But A Slight Mixture Of Water.
The Musicians, Who Had Stopped Playing Upon Our Knocking, Now Made
Feeble Signs Of Renewing Their Duties; But Still The Guests Assembled
Did Not Remove Their Eyes From Us, And We Could See A Number Of Them
Whisper To Each Other As Though Making Inquiries As To Whom We Were.
I Glanced Around The Room In Hope Of Seeing Steel Spring, But That
Worthy Was Invisible; And I Was Just About To Utter An Anathema On His
Head When A Door Leading To The Hall, Or Bar-Room, Opened, And That
Individual Made His Appearance. He Stopped For A Moment To Exchange A
Few Words With Dan, And We Could See That He Was Requesting The Favor Of
A Drink, And That He Was Promptly Served, A Sure Sign That His Credit
Was Good, Or That He Had Not Run Out Of Money.
Volume 2 Chapter 56 ( Adventures Continued.) Pg 79
"Come, Ain't You Covies Agoing To Move Along And Get Some Lush, Or Is
You Goin' To Stand Here All Night, And Hanged To You?" Cried The
Doorkeeper, Who Had Secured The Door, And Wanted To Turn His Attention
To Any Amusement That Might Be Going On, Including That Of Being Asked
To Drink By Any Good-Natured Bushranger Present.
"Don't You Be In A Hurry, You Old Grampus," Cried Mr. Brown, With A
Swagger And An Indifferent Look, As Though He Had Been Used To Just Such
Society As Was Present. "We Are Strangers Here, But We Have Lived In The
Bush For A Few Years, And Knows A 'Trap' From An Innocent."
To Even Claim The Title Of A Bushranger Was Sufficient To Secure Respect
From The Common Thieves Who Congregated Around Ballarat, As There Was So
Much Danger Connected With The Pursuit Of A Robber Who Was Obliged To
Live In The Bush, And Rarely Show His Face, Except To Attack A Train,
That Petty Knaves Were Always Awed When One Of The Fierce Rovers Of The
Prairies Made His Appearance And Condescended To Speak. The Doorkeeper's
Manners Underwent An Instantaneous Change, And From The Fierce Bully He
Softened To The Fawning Panderer.
"I Axes Yer Pardon, Gents, 'Cos I Didn't Know Ye, And 'Sposed You Was
Sneaks From Melbourne. Let Me Show You To A Table, And Supply You With
Lush, And (Here The Fellow's Voice Subsided To A Whisper) I Knows The
Bottles That Holds The Best Rum."
"You're The Fellow For Us," Cried The Inspector, Slapping Him On His
Back With Pretended Frankness. "Bring On The Lush, And Hang The Expense.
We're In For A Time, And A Jolly One At That."
Our Cicerone Led Us Across The Room, And While We Were Walking Every Eye
Was Upon Us, And The Least Hesitancy Or Timidity Would Have Betrayed And
Brought The Whole Pack Upon Us Before We Were Ready To Receive Them.
Therefore, Without Swaggering, Or Pretending To Be Very Independent, We
Reached Our Allotted Table, And Called For Three Bottles Of Ale And
Three Pipes.
Just Then Dan Called Steel Spring's Attention, And We Could Hear Him
Inquire In A Whisper If He Knew Us. The Long-Legged Scamp Turned
Deliberately Around, Pretended To Be Surprised, Hastily Swallowed His
Rum, And Then Rushed Towards Us.
"Vel, If This Isn't A Surprise May I Never Speak Again, Or Make An
Honest Living Vhile In The Bush. To Think That Three Of My Old Pals
Should Turn Up Jist As I Vanted 'Um, Is A Vonderful Thing And No
Mistake. If Ye Axes Me Vat I'll Drink, I Shall Say Rum."
We All Pretended To Be Pleased To See The Follow, And Gave Him Such A
Rough Welcome As We Deemed His Companions Would Be Likely To Bestow, And
Then, To His Extreme Gratification, Ordered The Rum That He Was So Eager
To Taste.
"It's All Right," We Could Hear The Ruffians, By Whom We Were
Surrounded, Say. "Steel Spring Knows 'Um, And That's 'Nough;" And Then
Each Man Applied Himself With Renewed Energy To Drinking And Smoking,
And Laying Plans
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