Daddy's Girl Part 33

"I am Messrs. Spielmann's agent, and my name is Rycroft. I had instructions to meet you, and guessed who you were from the description given to me. I hope you had a good voyage."

"Pretty well," answered Ogilvie; "but I must get my luggage together.

Where are you staying?"

"At the Waharoo Hotel. I took the liberty to book you a room. Shall we go up soon and discuss business; we have no time to lose?"

"As you please," said Ogilvie. "Will you wait here? I will return soon."

Within half an hour the two men were driving in the direction of the hotel. Rycroft had engaged a bedroom and private sitting-room for Ogilvie. He ordered lunch, and, after they had eaten, suggested that they should plunge at once into business.

"That is quite to my desire," said Ogilvie. "I want to get what is necessary through, in order to return home as soon as possible. It was inconvenient my leaving England just now, but Lord Grayleigh made it a condition that I should not delay an hour in examining the mine."

"If he wishes to take up this claim, he is right," answered Rycroft, in a grave voice. "I may as well say at once, Mr. Ogilvie, that your coming out is the greatest possible relief to us all. The syndicate ought to do well, and your name on the report is a guarantee of success. My proposal is that we should discuss matters a little to-day, and start early to-morrow by the _Townville_ to Rockhampton.

We can then go by rail to Grant's Creek Station, which is only eight miles from the mine. There we can do our business, and finally return here to draw up the report."

"And how long will all this take?" asked Ogilvie.

"If we are lucky, we ought to be back here within a month."

"You have been over the mine, of course, yourself, Mr. Rycroft?"

"Yes; I only returned to Brisbane a week ago."

"And what is your personal opinion?"

"There is, beyond doubt, alluvial gold. It is a bit refractory, but the was.h.i.+ngs panned out from five to six ounces to the ton."

"So I was told in England; but, about the vein underneath? Alluvial is not dependable as a continuance. It is the vein we want to strike.

Have you bored?"

"Yes, one shaft."

"Any result?"

"That is what your opinion is needed to decide," said his companion.

As Rycroft spoke, the corners of his mouth hardened, and he looked fixedly at Ogilvie. He knew perfectly well why Ogilvie had come from England to a.s.say the mine, and this last question took him somewhat by surprise.

Ogilvie was silent. After a moment he jumped up impatiently.

"I may as well inquire for any letters or cables that are waiting for me," he said.

Rycroft lit his pipe and went out. He had never seen Philip Ogilvie before, and was surprised at his general appearance, and also at his manner.

"Why did they send him out?" he muttered. "Sensitive, and with a conscience: not the sort of man to care to do dirty work; but perhaps Grayleigh was right. If I am not much mistaken, he will do it all the same."

"I shall make my own pile out of this," he thought. He returned to the hotel later on, and the two men spent the evening in anxious consultation. The next day they started for Rockhampton, and late in the afternoon of the fourth day reached their destination.

The mine lay in a valley which had once been the bed of some prehistoric river, but was now reduced to a tiny creek. On either side towered the twin Lombard peaks, from which the mine was to take its name. For a mile on either side of the creek the country was fairly open, being dotted with clumps of briggalow throwing their dark shadows across the plain.

Beyond them, where the slope became steep, the dense scrub began. This clothed the two lofty peaks to their summits. The spot was a beautiful one, and up to the present had been scarcely desecrated by the hand of man.

"Here we are," said Rycroft, "here lies the gold." He pointed to the bed of the creek. "Here is our overseer's hut, and he has engaged men for our purpose. This is our hut, Ogilvie. I hope you don't mind sharing it with me."

"Not in the least," replied Ogilvie. "We shall not begin operations until the morning, shall we? I should like to walk up the creek."

Rycroft made a cheerful answer, and Ogilvie started off alone. He scarcely knew why he wished to take this solitary walk, for he knew well that the die was cast. When he had accepted Lord Grayleigh's check for ten thousand pounds he had burnt his boats, and there was no going back.

"Time enough for repentance in another world," he muttered under his breath. "All I have to do at present is to stifle thought. It ought not to be difficult to go forward," he muttered, with a bitter smile, "the downhill slope is never difficult."

The work of boring was to commence on the following morning, and the camp was made close to the water hole beneath some tall gum trees.

Rycroft, who was well used to camping, prepared supper for the two.

The foreman's camp was about a hundred yards distant.

As Ogilvie lay down to sleep that night he had a brief, sharp attack of the agony which had caused him alarm a couple of months ago. It reminded him in forcible language that his own time on earth was in all probability brief; but, far from feeling distressed on this account, he hugged the knowledge to his heart that he had provided for Sibyl, and that she at least would never want. During the night which followed, however, he could not sleep. Spectre after spectre of his past life rose up before him in the gloom. He saw now that ever since his marriage the way had been paved for this final act of crime. The extravagances which his wife had committed, and which he himself had not put down with a firm hand, had led to further extravagances on his part. They had lived from the first beyond their means. Money difficulties had always dogged his footsteps, and now the only way out was by a deed of sin which might ruin thousands.

"But the child--the child!" he thought; something very like a sob rose to his lips. Toward morning, however, he forced his thoughts into other channels, drew his blanket tightly round him, and fell into a long, deep sleep.

When he awoke the foreman and his men were already busy. They began to bore through the alluvial deposit in several directions, and Ogilvie and Rycroft spent their entire time in directing these operations. It would be over a fortnight's work at least before Ogilvie could come to any absolute decision as to the true value of the mine. Day after day went quickly by, and the more often he inspected the ore submitted to him the more certain was Ogilvie that the supposed rich veins were a myth. He said little as he performed his daily task, and Rycroft watched his face with anxiety.

Rycroft was a hard-headed man, troubled by no qualms of conscience, anxious to enrich himself, and rather pleased than otherwise at the thought of fooling thousands of speculators in many parts of the world. The only thing that caused him fear was the possibility that when the instant came, Ogilvie would not take the final leap.

"Nevertheless, I believe he will," was Rycroft's final comment; "men of his sort go down deeper and fall more desperately than harder-headed fellows like myself. When a man has a conscience his fall is worse, if he does fall, than if he had none. But why does a man like Ogilvie undertake this sort of work? He must have a motive hidden from any of us. Oh, he'll tumble safe enough when the moment comes, but if he doesn't break his heart in that fall, I am much mistaken in my man."

Four shafts had been cut and levels driven in many directions with disappointing results. It was soon all too plain that the ores were practically valueless, though the commencement of each lode looked fairly promising.

After a little over a fortnight's hard work it was decided that it was useless to proceed.

"There is nothing more to be done, Mr. Ogilvie," said Rycroft, as the two men sat over their supper together. "For six months the alluvial will yield about six ounces to the ton. After that"--he paused and looked full at the grim, silent face of the man opposite him.

"After that?" said Ogilvie. He compressed his lips the moment he uttered the words.

Rycroft jerked his thumb significantly over his left shoulder by way of answer.

"You mean that we must see this butchery of the innocents through,"

said Ogilvie.

"I see no help for it," replied Rycroft. "We will start back to Brisbane to-morrow, and when we get there draw up the report; I had better attend to that part of the business, of course under your superintendence. We must both sign it. But first had we not better cable to Grayleigh? He must have expected to hear from us before now.

He can lay our cable before the directors, and then things can be put in train; the report can follow by the first mail."

"I shall take the report back with me," said Ogilvie.

"Better not," answered his companion, "best trust Her Majesty's mails.

It might so happen that you would lose it." As Rycroft spoke a crafty look came into his eyes.

"Let us pack our traps," said Ogilvie, rising.

"The sooner we get out of this the better."

The next morning early they left the solitude, the neighborhood of the lofty peaks and the desecrated earth beneath. They reached Brisbane in about four days, and put up once more at the Waharoo Hotel. There the real business for which all this preparation had been made commenced.