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Dyson, Edward, 1865-1931

"The Gold-Stealers A Story of Waddy"


'It's all right, Billy,' said Dick, 'they'll never find us here. We can
defy 'em all fer weeks.'
'Yes,' said Billy bitterly, 'but I'm hungry!'
'You didn't bring no crib, Parrot.' Dick had made it a rule that the
necessities of a shareholder temporarily in difficulties and hiding in
the mine were to be attended to by the free members of the Company or
others who, like Parrot Cann, were admitted to the Company's councils.
'Wasn't game,' answered Parrot; 'they'd 'a' watched me. Had to sneak away
as it was.'
Dick puckered his face wisely. It was a very dirty face just now; his red
hair, long neglected, hung in wisps over his forehead and about his ears,
giving him an elfish look in the candlelight.
'Never mind,' he said, 'bring us some to-night, first chance you get; but
be cunnin'. We'll shake some fruit soon ez it's dark, to keep us goin'.'
'What's the good o' fruit?' groaned Peterson. Fruit ain't grub.'
Dick looked anxiously at his mate. There was an immediate danger that the
outlaws might be starved out.
'Parrot's goin' to fetch some,' he said brightly.
Parrot promised to do his best for them, but, although they waited till
nearly nine o'clock in hungry anticipation, he did not return that night.
The last carrot was eaten, and a cautious excursion to Summers' orchard
produced nothing, Maori's warning bark driving the boys back to the Gaol
Quarry, empty and disconsolate.


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