"Perhaps it isn't," said Denis, slackening a stride which had lacked something since the parting of the ways. "Let's sit down under that gum-tree and talk about it. If you are right," continued Denis, paring a slab of tobacco when they were duly seated, "it might be better to turn back to Ballarat instead of going on to Bendigo." The matter-of-fact tone in which Denis made this startling suggestion betrayed him to Doherty without more ado. "You meant to do it all along!" said he. "It was the only way to do it," returned Denis, rubbing his tobacco between both palms, "without hurting anybody's feelings. Now he need never know. He had a heart of gold, Jimmy, but it was the only kind we should have got with him; and that's the last word about him now he's gone, poor chap! Back he goes to Silly Suffolk, and back we go to Ballarat with nine-pound-three between us! But no more nice dry games on Black Hill Flat, or anywhere else where the chances are big and the certainties next to nothing; we're going to sink deep and wet and dirty, Jimmy; and we're not going to sink on chance again." Jimmy's eyes were wide open in all senses at once. "Sink deep on nine-pound-three, mister? And you've been studyin' the 'ole game all this time?" "There's this," said Denis, producing Bullocky's nugget. "I believe you still have its fellow." "And many's the time I've thought of it," cried Jimmy; "but you said we was to keep them forever--for luck!" "A lot of luck they've brought us," said Denis; "on the other hand, I've learned a lot since then, and even now I don't propose to part with them altogether. No, but since the devil drives we must raise our fresh capital on them, and so let them bring us luck after all. If they do we can soon redeem them; and I mean them to, Jimmy, this time. Come a bit nearer: I've something to show you," continued Denis, drawing out his new map. "I've made this at odd times, some of it when you and Moseley were fast asleep. I don't say it's accurate, but it's given me a better grasp of the diggings as a whole than ever I had before, and I should like it to do the same for you. You see the double lines straggling from top to bottom like a bit of loose tape?" "Yes." "That's the Yarrowee." "And the little squares sprinkled all over?" "Fancy tents." "And the blots in between?" "The holes belonging to them." "And the centipedes, or whatever they are?" "The Seven Hills of Ballarat, Jimmy! Bakery Hill, Specimen Hill, and all the rest." "And the hanks of red ink in between the hills, twisting all over the place, under half the tents and holes; you must have put 'em in first, mister; they look like rivers of blood. I'm blessed if I know what else they do look like!" "They're rivers of gold, Jimmy, and I did put them in first."