As soon as I reached the scales after the race, and had dismounted and weighed, Pete pushed his way through the crowd and clapped his hand upon my shoulder.

'A beautiful race,' he cried enthusiastically, 'and splendidly ridden. You eclipsed even yourself, Jim. Now you must come along with me and let us drink your health.'

I wanted a stimulant pretty badly, for my fall had been a severe one, and I was still feeling dizzy from it. So I followed him to the booth at the back of the grand stand, where I found the One-eyed Doctor and another man, whom I had never seen before, awaiting our coming in close conversation. The stranger was a medium-sized, sandy-haired person, with mutton-chop whiskers and sharp, twinkling eyes. He might have been a member of any profession from a detective to a bookmaker. His name was Jarman, and when I came up he was good enough to congratulate me on winning my race. Then, turning to Pete, he said quietly,—

'By the way, there's something I've been meaning to ask you for the last half-hour. How's your horse bred?'

Pete seemed surprised for a second, then he quickly recovered himself and answered,—

'Don't ask me, for I'm sure I couldn't tell you. I picked him up, quite by chance, out of a likely-looking mob from the South. He may be well bred, he certainly looks it, but, on the other hand, he may not, so as I shall soon sell him again, and don't want to tell any lies about it, I think it safest not to inquire; you can see his brand for yourself.'

Then two or three more men came up, and we had another, and yet another, round of drinks, till I began to feel as if, after all my excitement, I had had more than was prudent. But somehow I didn't care. I was desperate, and drink seemed to drive the blue devils away! I knew that by riding the race I had done for myself, lock, stock, and barrel, so far as my own prospects were concerned, so what did anything else matter. At last it was time to start for home.

'By the way, Mr Jarman,' said Pete, turning to the man who had asked the question about the horse's breeding, 'if you've nothing better to do this evening, won't you come up to my place to dinner. You'll join us, Jim?'

I jumped at the opportunity—for I was certainly not going home, to be insulted and shown the door by my father. Jarman accepted the invitation with companionable alacrity, and then the four of us set off together for the township. By the time we reached it my head was swimming with the liquor I had taken, and I have only a very confused recollection of what followed. I know that we sat down to dinner, waited on by one of the blackboys; I know that I drank every time anything was offered to me, and that I talked incessantly; I am also horribly aware that, do what I would, I could not drive the picture of poor little Sheilah's troubled face out of my brain. I also recollect seeing Jarman sitting opposite me with his impassive, yet always closely-observant face, listening to everything that was said, and watching Pete continually. Great as had been my success that day, and triumphant as I naturally felt at winning the race—I think that that was the most ghastly meal of which I have ever partaken. At last an idea seized me, why or wherefore I cannot tell, and would not be denied. It urged me to go home and get my trouble with my father over. I staggered to my feet, and as I did so the whole room seemed to reel and fall away from me. Feeling like a criminal going to execution, I bade them all good night. Pete looked at me with a queer, half-contemptuous smile upon his face, and I noticed that Jarman rose as if he were going to stop me, but evidently changed his mind and sat down again in his chair. Then reeling out into the verandah, I picked my way carefully down the steps, and set off for my home.

How I managed to get there I cannot say, for my rebellious legs would not, or could not, carry me straight for three yards on end. But at last I managed it, and went boldly up the steps into the front verandah. Nobody was there, so I passed into the dining-room, where a lamp was burning brightly. Pushing my way round the chairs, I came to a standstill before the table and confronted my father, who sat in the furthest corner with a book upon his knee as usual. He looked up at me, and I looked down at him. Then he said very calmly, 'Well, what do you want here?'

I tried to speak, but my voice failed me.

'You rode the horse in spite of my orders to the contrary, I suppose?'

'I did,' I answered—my poor head swimming all the time.

'And I suppose, having defied me to the very best of your ability, you have come back expecting me to forget and forgive?'

'I do not expect anything,' I stammered; 'I only want to know what you intend doing with me. That's all.'

'Well, that's easily told,' he answered. 'Of course I intend sticking to my share of the bargain. As I warned you, you leave this house to-night, and until I ask you, you'd better not come near it again.'

'And then you can ask as long as you please and you'll find I won't come,' I replied. 'No, no! You needn't be afraid of my troubling you. My home has not been made so sweet to me that I should love it so devotedly. You've been an unnatural father to me all my life, and this is the only logical outcome of it.'

He pointed furiously to the door, and without another word I took the hint and left the room. Then I fumbled my way across the verandah down into the garden, and having reached it, stopped to look back at the house. My father was now standing on the steps watching me. His head was bare, and his grey hair was just stirred by the cool night wind. I held on to a post of the wire fence, and looked at him. Seeing that I did not go away he shook his fist at me, and dared me to come back on peril of my life; assuring me with an oath that he would shoot me like a dog if I ever showed my face in his grounds again. There was something so devilish about the old man's anger, that I was more afraid of him than I should have been of a young man twice his size and strength, so I said no more, but went back on my tracks down the hill, over the ford, and up again to Whispering Pete's. It was as if Pete were deliberately drawing me towards the tragedy that was to prove the undoing of all my life.

Reaching the house, I stumbled up the steps on to the verandah. I had not been gone more than three-quarters of an hour, but it seemed like years. Remembering all that had happened to me in the interval, it came almost like a shock to me to find Pete, the One-eyed Doctor and Jarman still seated at the table, conversing as quietly as when I had left them. The room was half full of smoke, and it was to be easily seen that they had been drinking more than was good for them. I can recall Pete's evil face smiling through the cigar smoke even now.

As my footsteps sounded in the verandah Jarman rose to his feet and, putting his hand on Pete's shoulder, said, in a loud voice, 'In the Queen's name, I arrest you, Peter Dempster, and you, Edward Finnan, on a charge of horse-stealing.' For upwards of a minute there was complete silence in the room. Then Pete turned half round, and, quick as a cat, sprang at Jarman, who had stepped back against the wall. There was a wild struggle that scarcely lasted more than half-a-dozen seconds, then Pete forced his antagonist into a chair, and, while holding him by the throat, picked up a knife from the table, drove it into his breast, plucked it out, and drove it in again. The blood spurted over his hands, and Jarman, feeling his death agony upon him, gave a great cry for help that rang far out into the dark night. Then there was silence again, broken only by a horrible kind of choking noise from the body on the chair, and the hooting of a mopoke in the tree above the house. Try how I would I could not move from the place where I stood, until Pete sprang to his feet and put the knife down on a plate, taking particular care that it should not touch the white linen cloth. The meticulous precision of his action gave me back my power of thinking, and what was more, sobered me like a cold douche. What should I do? What could I do? But there was no time for anything—I must have moved and made a noise, for suddenly the Doctor, revolver in hand, sprang to the window and threw it open, discovering me.

'You!' he cried, as soon as he became aware of my identity. 'My God! you can thank your stars it's you. Come inside.'

Almost unconsciously I obeyed, and stepped into the room. Pete was at the further end, examining his finger. He looked up at me, licking his thin lips, cat fashion, as he did so.

'Damn it all, I've cut my finger,' he said, as coolly as if he had done it paring his nails.

'For pity's sake, Pete,' I cried, gazing from him to the poor bleeding body in the chair, 'tell me why you did it?'

'Hold your jaw!' said he, twisting his handkerchief round his cut finger, and looking, as he did so, with eyes that were more like a demon's than a man's. 'But stay, if you want to know why I did it, I'll tell you. I did it because the rope is round all our necks, and if you move only as much as a finger contrary to what I tell you, you'll hang us and yourself into the bargain.'

Here the mysterious, One-eyed Doctor reeled out into the verandah, and next moment I heard him being violently sick over the rails. By the time he returned, Pete had tied up his hand, and was bending over the figure in the chair.

'He's dead,' he said to the Doctor. 'Now, we've got to find out what's best to be done with him. Jim, you're in a tight place, and must help us all you know.'

'For God's sake explain yourself, Pete!' I cried, in an agony. 'How can I do anything if you don't. Why did you do it?'

'I'll tell you,' he answered, 'and in as few words as possible, for there is no time to waste. This individual is a Sydney detective (here he pointed to the dead man). The horse you rode in the race to-day is none other than Gaybird, the winner of the Victorian Grand National and the Sydney Steeplechase. The Doctor there and I stole him from his box at Randwick, three months ago, and brought him out here by a means we understand. Information was given to the police, and Jarman followed him. He got in tow with me. I recognised him the moment I set eyes on him, and invited him to dinner to-night. When you turned up the second time he must have imagined it was the local trooper whom he had ordered to meet him here, and decided to arrest us. He found out his mistake, and that is the result. Now you know how you stand. You must help us, for one moment's consideration will show you that you are implicated as deeply as we are. If this business is discovered, we shall all swing; if the horse racket is brought home, the three of us will get five years apiece, as sure as we're born: so don't you make any mistake about that!'

'But I am innocent,' I cried. 'I had nothing whatever to do with either the murder or the stealing of the horse.'

'Take that yarn to the police, and see what they will say to you. Look here!'

He crossed to the dead man again and fumbled in his coat pocket. Next moment he produced three blue slips of paper—one of which he opened and laid on the table before me. It was a warrant for my arrest.

'This is your doing, Pete,' I cried. 'Oh, what a fool I was ever to have anything to do with you.'

I fell back against the wall sick and giddy. To this pass had all my folly brought me. Well might Sheilah have prophesied that my obstinacy would end in disaster.

'My God, what are we to do?' I cried, in an agony of terror as thought succeeded thought, each blacker and more hopeless than the last. 'If the man expected help from the township it may be here any minute. For Heaven's sake let us get that body out of the way before it comes.'

'You begin to talk like a man,' said Pete, rising from the chair in which he had seated himself. 'Let us get to business, and as quickly as possible.'

The Doctor got up from his chair and approached the murdered man.

'The first business must be to get rid of this,' he asked; 'but how?'

'We must bury him somewhere,'said Pete. 'Where do you think would be the best place?'

'Not near here, at any rate,' said the Doctor. 'Remember when he doesn't put in an appearance after a few days they'll be sure to overhaul this house and every inch of the grounds. No, it must be done at once, and miles away.'

'You're right as usual, Doctor,' said Pete. Then turning to me he continued, 'Look here, Jim—this falls to your share. I have schemed for it and worked it out, so don't you fail me. This morning I sent away a mob of five hundred fat cattle via Bourke to Sydney. Yates is in charge for the reason that I could get nobody else. At the present moment they'll probably be camped somewhere near the Rocky Waterhole. You must set off after them as hard as you can go, and take over the command. Do you see? You can take my bay horse, Archer, for your own riding, a pack horse, and for a part of the way, The Unknown, with this strapped on his back and properly hidden. You'll go across country as far as the Blackfellow's Well at the dip in the Ranges; once there, you'll bury him up among the rocks, conceal the place as craftily as you can, and drop the spade into the well. After that you'll go on to Judson's Boundary fence, where you'll be met by a man on a grey horse. You'll hand The Unknown over to him, and then hurry on as fast as you can travel to catch up the cattle. Having taken over the command, you'll see them on to Bourke, deliver them to Phillips, the agent, and then come back here as if nothing had happened.'

'But why can't you take the body, Pete? Why should you push it on to me?'

'Because, if I left here to-night, it would give the whole thing away. They will never suspect you. The Doctor and I must remain to answer inquiries.'

'But supposing the police visit the house to-night and search the stable, how will you account for the absence of the horse?'

'I sha'n't try to account for it at all. I've got a horse in the box now as like him as two peas. They can collar him if they want to, but there'll be one vital difference, I'll defy them to win a Grand National with him, let them be as clever as they will. But now let's get on with our work, it's close on twelve o'clock, and we haven't a moment to lose.'

Between them, Pete and the Doctor carried the body of the murdered detective out of the room, and I was left alone to think over my position. But it did not need much thought to see what sort of a fix I was in. Supposing I went down to the township and gave evidence, I should hang Pete and do myself little good, for who in their sober senses, seeing that I had ridden the horse at the races that day, had backed him to win me a large stake, and was known to have spent the evening at Pete's house, besides having been hand and glove with him for weeks past, would believe me innocent? Not one! No, everything was against me, and the only chance for me now was to fall in with their plans and to save my own neck by assisting them to carry them out to the best of my ability—at any rate, the fright I had experienced had made me as sober as a judge.

In about ten minutes Pete returned to the room.

'Now, Jim,' he said, 'everything is ready. Here's a note to Yates telling him I've sent you to take charge, and another to Phillips at Bourke. If you're going to do what we want you'd better be off. Anything to say first?'

'Only that I hope you see what I'm doing for your sake, Pete,' I answered. 'You know I'm as innocent as a babe unborn, and you're making me appear guilty. I'm fool enough to let you do it. But all the same I don't know that it's altogether square on your part.'

'Don't you, Jim? Then, by Jove! you shan't do it. I like you too well to let you run the risk of saving me against your will. Ride away down to the police station as hard as you can go, if you like, and tell them everything. Only don't upbraid me when I'm trying to save your neck as well as my own.'

Though I knew I was an arrant fool to do it, when he spoke like that I couldn't desert him. So I followed him out of the room into the yard like the coward I was.

Directly I got there I came to a sudden stop.

'This won't do at all,' I said. 'Look here, I'm dressed for the races and not for over-landing.'

And so I was. Whatever happened, I knew I must change my things.

'Take the horses down to the Creek Bend,' I said. 'I'll run home as fast as I can—change my duds, get my whip, and meet you there.'

He nodded, and off I set as hard as I could go—forded the creek, and in less than a quarter of an hour was back once more at my old home. Not a light of any kind shone from it. Seeing this, I crept round to my own window. Then, lifting the sash as quietly as I possibly could, I crept in like a thief. Knowing exactly where to find the things I wanted, in less than ten minutes I had changed my clothes, packed my valise, and let myself out again. Then down the track I sped once more, to find Pete waiting with the three horses in the shadow of a gum.

'I've been counting the minutes since you left,' he cried impatiently, as I buckled my valise on to the pack-saddle. 'Now jump up and be off. Keep away from the township, and steer for the well as straight as you can go. You ought to be at the camp before daybreak.'

As he spoke he led the horses out of the shadow, and I was in the act of mounting when he suddenly dragged them back into it once more.

'Quiet for your life,' he whispered; 'here are the troopers, coming up the path.'

Sure enough, on the other side, three mounted troopers were riding up the track. A heavy sweat rose on my forehead as I thought what would happen if one of our horses were to move or neigh and so draw their attention to us. With the body in the pack-saddle, we should be caught red-handed.

Morgan, our township officer, rode a little in advance, the two other troopers behind him. They were laughing and joking, little dreaming how close we stood to them. When they had safely passed, Pete turned to me. 'Now,' he whispered, 'as soon as they are out of hearing be off as hard as you can go. I shall slip through the wattles and be back at the house and smoking with the Doctor in the verandah before they can reach it.'

The troopers went on up the track, and, when they got on to the top of the hill, turned off sharp to the left. As they disappeared from view I took a horse on either side of me, not without a shudder, as I thought of The Unknown's burden, and set off through the scrub towards some slip rails at the top of Pete's selection, which I knew would bring me out a little to the northward of the township. By the time the troopers could have reached the house I was through the fence and making my way down the hill as fast as my beasts could travel. It was a beautiful starlight night now, without a cloud or a breath of wind. Within a quarter of an hour I had left the last house behind me, and was heading away towards the south-west, across the open plain that surrounded the township on its northern side. Then, plunging into the scrub again, I made for the Blackfellow's Well as straight as I could steer. Considering the hard race he had run that day and the additional weight he was now carrying, The Unknown was wonderfully fresh, and the other two horses found it took them all their time to keep pace with him.

The silence of the scrub was mysterious in the extreme, 'possums scuttled across my track, a stray dingoe had a long stare at me from some rocks above a creek, while curlews whistled at me from every pool. I hardly dared look at the bundle strapped upon the thoroughbred's back, and yet I knew that when half my journey was done I should have to undertake a still more gruesome bit of business.

By two o'clock I was within sight of the well, as it was called. It was more like a deep pool than a well, however, and lay in the shadow of a high rock. It derived its name from a superstition that existed in the neighbourhood that on a certain night in every year the blacks came down and cleaned it out. It was one of the loneliest spots in the district, and as it lay in a barren region, remote from the principal stock and travelling route, it was not visited by the general public more than once or twice a year. A better place could not have been selected for burying the man Pete had killed.

On arrival at the rock I jumped off and secured the horses to a tree—then taking the shovel from the old pack horse's back I set off, clambering up among the rocks, on the look-out for a likely spot where I might dig the grave. At last, having discovered a place that I thought suitable, I set to work. The ground was hard, and nearly half-an-hour had elapsed before I had dug a deep enough hole for my purpose. Then putting down my shovel I went back to the well. The horses stood just as I had left them, and as soon as I had assured myself that there was not a soul about to spy upon me, I unstrapped the body and took it in my arms. However long I may live I shall never be able to rid myself of the horror of that moment. Having taken my ghastly burden in my arms, I set off, staggering and clambering up the hillside again till I found the grave I had dug. Then, when I had laid the body in it, I began hastily to cover it with earth. The sweat rolled off my face in streams before I had finished, but not so much with the labour as by reason of the horrible nature of my work. I hardly dared look at what was before me, but worked away with stubborn persistence until the greater part of the earth I had taken out was replaced. Then using the handle of the shovel as a lever, I wedged a big rock, a step or two up the hill, over on one side, worked round, and undermined it on the other, and finally rolled it down upon the grave itself. When this was done it was completely hidden from the most prying gaze, and I knew that every day would hide it better. Then giving a hasty glance round me to see that no one was about, and that I had left nothing behind me to furnish a clue, I picked up the shovel and set off, as hard as I could go, down the hill towards the horses. Arriving at the well, I threw the shovel into the pool and watched it disappear from view—then, untying my animals, I mounted, and, with a somewhat lightened heart, resumed my journey. The horses were cold with standing so long, and we soon made up for lost time, arriving at Judson's Boundary fence shortly before half-past two. One thing struck me as peculiar, and that was how Pete could have communicated with the man, but surely enough at the corner of the fence was an individual seated on a grey horse and evidently waiting for me.

'Good evening,' he said, in a gruff voice, as I rode up. 'A nice night for travelling—ain't it?'

'A very nice night,' I answered, looking him carefully over, 'and pray who are you waiting for?'

'For a messenger from Whispering Pete,' he answered. 'Is this the horse?'

I informed him that it was, and gave him the reins of The Unknown. He looked at him pretty closely, and then wheeled him round.

'Good night,' he said, 'and good luck to you. I've got a hundred miles to do before sundown.'

'Good night,' I cried in return, and then changing my course, set off across country for the place where I knew I should find the cattle. The sun was in the act of rising from the night fog when I made them out and rode up to the camp. The fire burnt brightly, and the cook was bustling about getting breakfast. Seeing me, Yates, who was not at all a bad sort of fellow, sat up in his blankets and stared, as well he might.

'Well, bless my soul, and how on earth did you get here?' he cried, 'and now you're here, what do you want? Anything wrong?'

'No, of course not; what on earth should make you think so?' I replied. 'Only I happened to be going to Bourke on business, so Pete asked me to come on and take charge. Here's a letter from him to you.'

I took Pete's note out of my pocket and handed it to him. Having torn it open, he read it through slowly. When he had done so he said, 'Well, I'm precious glad. It was against my will that I came at all; now I'm free, and all the responsibility, and in this dry season there's plenty of that, rests upon your shoulders and not on mine. I don't envy you!'

'I must take my chance,' I said. 'Now, supposing we have breakfast, and afterwards get on the move.'

Yates stared in surprise, for I must have looked more dead than alive after my long night ride, and all the excitement I had passed through.

'You don't mean to say you intend going on before you've had a rest,' he cried. 'Why, man, you're a death's head already. No, let's wait a bit and have a sleep; the cattle are on good feed and water, and, if all's true that I hear, they won't get any more like it on the other side of the border.'

'I don't want a rest,' I said, 'and if I do I can take it in the saddle as we go along. Tell one of the blackboys to run up the horses, will you? and then we'll have breakfast and start.'

'As you please, of course,' he said, but it was evident that he regarded my proposal in the light of madness. He was not very fond of work, was Mr Yates, and never had been since I had first known him, which was a matter of well nigh fifteen years.

In less than half-an-hour breakfast was ready, and, as soon as it was eaten, we mustered the cattle and got under way. It was not a very big mob, but the animals were all valuable, and in the pink of condition.

To those who have never seen a mob of cattle on the march, the picture they present would be a novel and exciting one. Imagine marching on ahead, day after day, as proud as a drum-major, some old bull, the leader of the mob; behind him are some hundreds of cattle; on either flank vigilant stockmen ride, ever on the look-out for stragglers; the drover in command and the rest of the party follow as whippers-in, while the cart containing the blankets, camp and cooking utensils, driven by the cook, travels on some miles ahead. The latter individual chooses the night's camp, prepares it, and has the evening meal cooked and ready by the time the mob puts in an appearance. After nightfall, a perpetual two hours' watch is kept by mounted men, while emergency horses are fastened near the camp to be ready in the event of a stampede or other trouble occurring.

Our journey, in this instance, was an uneventful one, lasting something like six weeks. When we reached Bourke, and had handed over our cattle to the agent for trucking to Sydney, our mission was accomplished. As soon, therefore, as I had obtained my receipt from Mr Phillips, the agent to whom the mob was consigned, I took the train to Sydney, and once there hunted about for a medium-sized class hotel where I could put up while I remained in the metropolis. A big city was a new experience to me, and you may be sure I made the most of my opportunity of seeing it; at the same time, I kept a watchful eye on the daily papers for anything that transpired at Barranda during my absence. But from what I could gather, nothing unusual seemed to have happened in that sleepy hollow; so I was gradually recovering my old peace of mind when I received a shock that knocked my feeling of security about my ears again. I had been to the theatre one night, I remember, and was standing outside the door, after the fall of the curtain, thinking about getting back to my hotel, when who should come along the pavement but Finnan, the One-eyed Doctor, himself, dressed in evening clothes, and looking as contented and happy as you please. He seemed a bit surprised, not to say nonplussed, at seeing me, but shook hands with every appearance of heartiness. Then putting his arm through mine, he led me into a side street.

'You managed that bit of business splendidly,' he said, when we were sure there was no one near enough to overhear us. 'Pete was delighted at the way you did it.'

'Has anything turned up about it yet?' I asked anxiously.

'Nothing important,' he answered. 'The Government are wondering what can have become of Jarman, who is supposed to have gone north, but the people in the township have discovered somehow that Pete is suspected of having stolen Gaybird. Of course, they all implicate you in it; and if I were you I should keep out of their way till the fuss blows over.'

This was unpleasant hearing with a vengeance, but I was not going to let him see that I thought it, so I said,—

'Where is Pete now?'

'Goodness only knows. He remained hanging about the township for a fortnight after you went away, just to allay suspicion, then he announced that he was off to buy cattle on the Diamintina. Since then he has not been heard of.'

'A nice kettle of fish he has let me in for,' I answered hotly. 'I can't say that I think he has acted at all like a man.'

'I don't know that I think he has acted altogether fairly towards you,' said the agreeable Doctor. 'However, what's done can't be undone; so I suppose we must make the best of it. Anything more to say? Nothing? Well, perhaps we'd better not be seen together for very long, so good night!'

I bade him good night, and having done so, walked slowly back to my hotel, wondering what was best to be done. To remain away from the township would look as if I were afraid of facing its inhabitants. And yet it was pretty dangerous work going back there. However, knowing my own innocence, I wasn't going to give them the right to call me guilty, so I determined to risk it, and accordingly next morning off I set for Bourke en route for the Cargoo again. In about a fortnight I had reached the township.

Darkness had fallen when I rode up the main street, and as I did not know quite what to do with myself now that I had no home to go to, I halted at the principal hotel and installed myself there. A good many men were in the bar when I entered, and from the way one and all looked at me, I could see that they were aware of the rumours that were afloat concerning me. However, nobody said anything on the subject, so I called for a glass of whiskey and, having drunk it, went into the dining-room, where about a dozen people were seated at the table. I took my place alongside a man I had known ever since we were kiddies together, and more for the sake of making myself agreeable than anything else, said 'good evening' to him. He replied civilly enough, but I could see that he did not care to be friendly, and, when he made an excuse and went round and sat on the other side of the table, I saw significant glances flash round the board. 'All right,' I thought to myself, 'I'll say nothing just now, but the first man who drops a hint about that horse or my connection with the race, I'll go for tooth and nail, if it costs me my life.' But never a hint was dropped, and when the meal was over I went out into the verandah to rage alone. I was in an unenviable position, and the worst part of it all was, I had nothing to thank for it but my own consummate obstinacy and stupidity.

About nine o'clock I filled my pipe afresh and set off for a stroll down the street, keeping my eyes open to see if any of my old friends would take notice of me. But no one did till I had almost left the township. Then an elderly man, by name Bolton, who kept one of the principal stores in Main Street, and had always been a special crony of mine, crossed the road and came towards me.

'Jim Heggarstone,' said he, when he got on to the footpath alongside me, 'I want to have a few words with you, if you don't mind.'

'I'm your man!' I answered. 'Shall we sit on the rail here, or would you rather walk along a bit?'

'No, let us sit here,' he replied, and as he spoke, mounted the fence; 'we're not likely to be interrupted, and I don't know that it would matter particularly if we were. Look here, Jim, I've always been your friend, and I am now. But certain things have been said about you of late in the township that I tell you frankly are not to your credit. What I want is authority to deny them on your behalf.'

'You must first tell me what they are,' I answered; 'you can't expect a chap to go about explaining his actions every time a township like this takes it into its head to invent a bit of tittle-tattle against him. What have they to say against me? Out with it.'

'Well, in the first place, they say that Whispering Pete on the hill up yonder knew that the horse he raced as The Unknown was Gaybird, the winner of the Victorian Grand National and the Sydney Steeplechase. Do you think that's true?'

'How can I say? He may or may not have known it. But I don't see that it has anything to do with me if he did?'

'No! Perhaps not! But you will when I tell you that it's also said that you were aware of it too, and that you laid your plans accordingly.'

'Whoever says that tells a deliberate falsehood,' I cried angrily. 'I did not know it. If I had I would rather have died than have ridden him.'

'I know that, Jim,' he answered, 'and so I have always said. Now, if you will let me, I'll call the next man who says so a liar to his face, on your behalf.'

'So you shall, and I'll ram it down his throat with my fist afterwards. This has been a bad business for me, Bolton. In the first place, I have been kicked out of doors by my father for riding that race, and now my character is being taken away in this shabby fashion for a thing I'm quite innocent of.'

'You ought never to have got in tow with Whispering Pete, Jim.'

'Nobody knows that better than I do!' I cried bitterly. 'But it's too late to alter it now.'

'Well, good night. And keep your heart up. Things will come right yet. And remember, Jim, I'm your friend through all.'

We shook hands, and having done so, the kind-hearted fellow went his way down the street while I strolled on as far as the McLeods' homestead. There was a light shining from the sitting-room window, and I could hear the music of a piano. Then Sheilah's pretty voice came out to me singing a song, of which I am very fond. The words are Kingsley's, I believe, and the last verse seemed so appropriate to my case, that it brought a lump into my throat that almost choked me. It ran as follows:—