268 TROPIC DAYS 



not troubled to make inquiries. They knew where 

 he was, and the reason for his sudden retirement from 

 accustomed scenes. The next day all Byerstown knew 

 also. 



Tsing Hi, within the rough-hewn walls of the lock-up, 

 was sad and silent. He had been arrested for gold- 

 stealing. 



It was a clear case. Hundreds of complaints had 

 been made. Dozens of suspects had been shadowed, 

 until a quick-witted detective intuitively fastened the 

 responsibiHty on the court interpreter, who, on the 

 instant of arrest, had become dumb. 



The ransacking of his hut revealed a magazine of 

 riches, the earthen floor beneath the bunk being honey- 

 combed with pits containing easilj'^ portable but valuable 

 property. In a jam-tin were several nuggets, among 

 them the very specimen which Bill Haddon had given 

 to Mrs. Sinclair, landlady of the Carriers' Arms — a 

 plane of crystal from which rose a wonderfully true 

 pyramid of gold. It had been admired by hundreds, 

 and could be sworn to by everyone who had seen it. 

 There was the white sapphire, with a tell-tale flaw 

 running down the middle, which had been found in 

 the hopperings at Revolver Point (where fighting 

 Cameron made his pile) by Sam Kickford, and likewise 

 bestowed on Mrs. Sinclair as a " curio," and because 

 that bounteous lady had mothered the unlucky Sam 

 and nursed him through the fever which took him to 

 the very gates of a filthy hell. Dozens could swear 

 to it, but ever so many more were capable of bearing 

 witness against Tsing Hi on account of the specimen 

 which Sam's mate, who had died of the fever, had given 

 to Mrs. Sinclair, having picked it out from the face 

 of his drive. It was a slug of rough gold in the shape 

 of a tiny canoe, with an upright splinter of white quartz 



