“Come, ain’t you fellers a goin’ to drink with us?  That ain’t exactly the thing, you know.  There ain’t no aristocracy in these parts.  Every feller is tree and equal, as the old Constitution of the States says.”

We could not withstand Ben’s pressing intimation that we were to consider ourselves no better than others present, and after waiting five minutes for a chance at a glass, we managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of the vile stuff.

“That’s the ticket!” he cried, when he saw that we were disposed to follow his example; “nothing like good whiskey to keep a man all right, at the mines.  I don’t drink much myself, but I’ve no objections to other people taking a nip now and then.”

As he spoke, he held out his glass for another nip, and the attentive Charley, with an eye to his profits, quickly filled it.

“I give you,” said Ben, appealing to the crowd for silence—­for most of the miners had grown talkative, under the influence of their drink—­“I give you a toast.  Here’s to the tax, and d——­ the man that wouldn’t d——­ it!”

The toast was received with yells of applause, and even when the confusion was at its height, I noticed a small, dark-complexioned man, wearing a blue frock coat with brass buttons, but with no other insignia of office or authority, enter the room.

His presence was not noticed by the crowd, which still continued its revels, until the new comer approached us, when a death-like silence crept over the assembly.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” said the dark man, addressing Fred and myself in a courteous manner; “I belive that you are recent arrivals?”

“Not more than three hours since,” I replied, returning his salutation.

“I believe you have stated the hours correctly,” he returned, dryly; “we live fast, here in Ballarat, yet I think you have outstripped us by your activity.”

“No one can regret the circumstance which has taken place more than myself,” replied Fred.

“Perhaps not,” answered the dark man with a grim smile; and while he was speaking, I noticed that those in the saloon edged towards us for the purpose of hearing our conversation.

“The quarrel was occasioned by a dispute about horses, I believe?” the little man said.

“You are correct in your suppositions,” returned Fred.

“Will you be kind enough to inform me how those animals came in your possession?” interrogated the stranger.

“I don’t know what business it is of yours,” returned Fred, with some asperity; “but as we seek to disguise nothing, I will frankly inform you that we purchased the horses and paid for them.”

“A likely story, truly; I never yet knew the police of Melbourne to sell their spare horses.”

At these words, we saw that the crowd looked at each other suspiciously, and appeared to regard us as being guilty of some serious crime.

“When you show us your authority for asking questions, we will explain matters.”  I replied, after a moment’s hesitation.