It was strange, but nevertheless a fact, how to be accounted for I do not know, that when I came to my senses again and found myself in the cell at the police station, I was easier in my mind than I had been at all since Pete's visit to my house. The truth was the blow had fallen and my mind was set at rest once and for all. At first I was like a man dead, but now that my wits had returned to me, I was like a man who had still to die. Of Sheilah I dared not think.

About sundown the Sergeant entered my cell and found me lying on the rough bed-place with my face turned to the wall. He had known me since I was a boy, and it didn't take much to see that he was really sorry for me.

'Come, come, Jim, my lad,' he said kindly, walking over and sitting down on the bed beside me. 'Don't give way like this. Look your difficulties in the face and meet them with a bold front like a man.'

'It's all very well for you to say meet them with a bold front,' I answered, sitting up and looking at him. 'But think what all this means to me.'

'I know about that, my poor lad,' he replied. 'And there's not a soul but is downright sorry for you. Unfortunately we had no option but to arrest you as we did. We received our instructions by telegraph from Brisbane.'

'But what made you arrest me?' I asked. 'Surely they're not going to try to prove me guilty of the murder of this man?'

'I can't tell you anything about that, of course,' he answered. 'But we had to arrest you, and as you are to be brought before the magistrates first thing to-morrow morning you'll know then. In the meantime, if you want to send for a lawyer, you are, of course, at liberty to do so!'

'I'll do so at once then,' I answered eagerly, clutching, like a drowning man, at the straw held out to me. 'I'd like to have Mr Perkins if you will let him know. And might I have some paper, pens, and ink? I must write some letters.'

'Of course, you can have anything you want in reason,' the Sergeant answered. 'Remember, Jim, you're innocent until you're proved guilty.'

When he went away he did not forget to send in the things I had asked for, and as soon as I had received them I sat down and wrote a letter to Sheilah. With a mind that was not nearly as easy as I tried to make it appear, I told her to keep up her heart, and tried to make her believe that this absurd charge must be quickly disproved, as, indeed, I confidently expected it would be. Even if the stigma should remain upon my character, they could never convict me of connivance for want of evidence. As long as the grave under the rocks remained undiscovered, all would be well. By this time Pete was probably in America, and the One-eyed Doctor with him. The man who had taken the horse from me at the corner fence could say nothing about the body, because he had not seen it. So that in any case I could scarcely fail to be acquitted. With this idea firmly implanted in my mind, I described my arrest as the only possible result of all the malicious reports that had lately been circulated concerning me, and even went so far as to say that I was glad the business had been brought to a head at last. What was more, I stated that I felt so far convinced of the result as to arrange to meet her the following day—after the examination before the magistrates—when we could enter our new home together freed of all false charges and suspicions. How far my hopes were destined to be realised you will see for yourself.

During the afternoon Mr Perkins, a solicitor who had done two or three little bits of legal business for me in brighter days, arrived at the station, and was immediately brought to me. He was a sharp, ferrety-faced little fellow, with a bald head, clean-shaven chin and upper lip, and bushy grey eyebrows. He had a big knowledge of Colonial law, and had the wit to remain in the country, quietly working up an enormous business for himself, when so many of his fraternity were rushing to the cities to take their chances of losing or making fortunes there. He seated himself on a stool near the door, and, while doing so, expressed himself as exceedingly sorry to see me in such an unpleasant position. Then, taking his note-book from his pocket, he set himself to ask me a few questions.

'I understand that you are prepared to admit having seen the man Jarman on the day of the race in question?' he began.

'Quite prepared,' I answered. 'I was introduced to him immediately after I had weighed out!'

'By whom was this introduction effected, and at what spot?'

'By Whispering Pete,' I replied. 'And alongside the refreshment bar at the back of the grand stand.'

'And he dined with you a couple of hours later, I understand. At whose invitation?'

'At Whispering Pete's, of course. It was his house.'

'To be sure. Now think for one moment before you answer the question I am going to ask you. Were you present when Whispering Pete invited him? And what words did he use, to the best of your recollection?'

'It came about in this way. We had finished our drinks and were moving along the track that leads up to the township, when Jarman said he was sorry the amusement was all over, as there was nothing to do in a little up-country township like ours in the evening. Then Pete said, "Well, if you're afraid of being dull why not come up and dine with us?" "I'll do so with pleasure," said Jarman, and then we started off for home.'

'That was exactly what occurred, to the very best of your remembrance?'

'It was. I think I have given you an exact description of it.'

'And when you reached Pete's house—you sat down to dinner, I suppose?'

'Not at once. We each had a glass of sherry first, and sat for a while in the verandah.'

'After which you went into dinner? Next to whom did Jarman sit?'

'Between Pete and myself.'

'Was he in good spirits, think you? Did he seem to be enjoying himself? I am not asking these questions out of idle curiosity—you will of course understand that.'

'In excellent spirits. He told several good stories, described two or three sensational arrests he had made in his career, and I should say enjoyed himself very much.'

'And after dinner? What did you do then?'

'We sat at the table smoking and talking—then I rose to go.'

'Leaving them still at the table, I presume? Please be particular in your answer.'

'Yes, they were still at the table. I bade them good-night, and then started for home.'

'Had you any reason for going away at that moment? By the way, what time was it when you said good-bye to them?'

'Ten o'clock exactly. I remember looking at my watch and thinking how quickly the evening had passed.'

'And what was your reason for going?'

'I could hardly tell you, I'm afraid. You see I was expecting trouble with my father because I had ridden the horse for Pete, and I wanted to get the fuss over and done with as soon as possible.'

'And when you reached your home, what happened?'

'I saw my father, and we had a violent quarrel. He ordered me out of his house then and there, and I went.'

'Where did you go?'

'I went back to Pete, having nowhere else to go.'

'And when you got there was Jarman still there?'

I stopped for a second. This was the question I had all along been dreading. But I had no option. If I was going to keep my plighted word, and Pete was to be saved, I could not tell the truth. So I said,—

'He had gone.'

'Did you see him go—or meet him on the road?'

'No. I am quite sure I did not.'

'And when you were alone with Pete and the other man, Finnan, what did you do?'

'I told Pete what a nasty fix I was in, and let him see that my father had turned me out of doors for riding The Unknown.'

'You still consider, then, that the horse was The Unknown—and not the Gaybird, as people assert?'

'I cannot say. I never saw Gaybird. I only know that Pete told me his horse's name was The Unknown, and having no reason to doubt his veracity, that satisfied me, and I asked no further questions.'

'I see! And what had Pete to say when you told him your condition?'

'He said he was extremely sorry to hear it, and asked how he could help me.'

'And what answer did you give him?'

'I told him that he could best help me by finding something for me to do. I said I was not going to remain in the township idle, to be gaped at and talked about by everybody.'

'A very proper spirit. And I understand Pete said he would find you something?'

'Yes. He told me he had a mob of cattle then on the way to Sydney. He had had to put a man in charge who was not quite up to the work, and then he went on to say that if I liked to have the post I was welcome to it. He said he thought, if I looked sharp, I could catch them up by daybreak.'

'So you started off there and then to try and overtake them?'

'Not at once. I had on my best clothes, you see; so I went home again, crept in by a side window, changed my things, got a stock whip, packed a few odds and ends into a valise, and then rejoined Pete, who had a saddle-horse and a pack-horse waiting for me by the creek. Then off I went, and by riding hard caught the mob just as day was breaking.'

'Well, if that is exactly what happened,' said the worthy old lawyer, 'I really think I can get you off.'

'I hope and pray you may. Fancy being arrested on such a charge on your wedding-day. How would you have liked that, Mr Perkins?'

'Provided it happened before the ceremony, and they did not lock me up for more than ten years, I should think it the most fortunate thing that could befall me,' he answered. And as he said it I remembered that he was a confirmed woman-hater.

Shaking me by the hand, he left me, and I sat down again to my thoughts. But my reverie was soon interrupted by the reappearance of the Sergeant.

'There is a lady here who wishes to see you,' he said, and forthwith ushered Sheilah into my cell. Then, softly closing the door behind him, he left us together. Sheilah ran into my arms, and for some minutes sobbed upon my shoulder. When she had recovered her composure a little, I led her to a seat and sat down beside her.

'Sheilah—my poor little wife,' I said, with my arm round her neck, 'to think that I should have been separated from you like this on our wedding-day. But we must be brave, little wife, mustn't we?'

'Oh, Jim! My poor Jim,' was all she could say in answer. 'You are innocent. I know you are innocent. Oh, why are they so cruel as to bring this charge against you?'

'Of course I am innocent, darling,' I replied, kissing her tear-stained cheeks. 'I would not have laid a finger upon the man to hurt him for all the world. But you need have no fear. I have Perkins's word for it that he can get me off. He has just left me after asking half-a-hundred questions.'

'But if the man was not murdered as they say, he must be alive at this moment, and in that case he will be sure to come forward and clear your character.'

'Of course he will, if he's alive. But, thank goodness, I think I shall be able to clear myself without troubling him.'

'Pray God you may. Oh, Jim, I feel like an old woman instead of a young bride. I have been so ill all the afternoon that my father would not let me come to you before. But I am going to be brave now, and to-morrow I shall have you with me again. Then I will make it up to you for all the misery you are suffering now.'

'Who knows that better than I do, my darling.'

She rose to her feet, and then, stooping, kissed me on the forehead.

'My own true husband,' she said, 'I believe in you before all the world, remember that. Now I must be going. But first, my father is outside. May he come in?'

'I should like to see him before all others,' I said—and she went to the door. The officer outside opened it for her, and next moment old McLeod entered and shook me by the hand.

'I wonder that you care to do this,' I said, as I returned his salutation. 'I hope it shows me that so far you do not believe me guilty of the horrible charge they have brought against me?'

'I do not!' he answered stoutly. 'No, James, my lad, in Sheilah and myself ye have two stalwart champions.'

'And I thank God for it,' I replied fervently. 'I will repay it you both, as you will see, when I am released.'

The time was soon up for them to leave, so bidding me good-bye, they went out, and once more the heavy door closed upon me. But they had done that which had cheered me and made me happier than I had been for some time past. Half-an-hour later my tea was brought to me, and by eight o'clock I was in bed and asleep. For the reason that I had had no rest at all on the previous night, I slept like a top now—a heavy dreamless slumber that lasted well into next morning. In fact, it must have been considerably after six o'clock before I opened my eyes. Then for a moment I was puzzled to know where I was, but my memory soon returned to me, and the recollection of the arrest and all that had followed it rushed back upon me. However, I was quite confident that in another few hours I should be at liberty, so my present captivity and inconvenience might only be regarded as temporary, and, therefore, easily to be borne. Outside the cell window the birds were chirping merrily, and now and again I could hear the voices of passers-by. Giving up an attempt to hear what they said, I began to wonder what Sheilah was doing, and whether she was as anxious to see me as I was to see her.

Then breakfast was brought in, and by the time I had finished my meal and taken some exercise in the yard it was time to be going into Court.

The Court House at Barranda adjoins the police station, so that, fortunately, I was not called upon to face the public before my case was called on. Then a constable signed to me to follow him, and I crossed the yard and went towards a narrow door. This led directly into the Court itself, and as soon as I had passed through it, I found myself standing in the centre of a large room, of which the gallery at one end and a daÏs at the other were all densely crowded. A trooper opened the gate of the dock, and I immediately went up two steps and entered it. Almost every face in the Court was familiar to me, and the magistrate on the Bench I had known ever since I was a little boy. At the further end of a long form, below the daÏs, I saw old McLeod sitting. Mr Perkins was just in front of him, and the Lawyer, who was to act as prosecutor for the Government, stood opposite him. Then, just as the case was about to commence, the door at the back of the Bench opened, and who should appear but my father. He looked very bent and old, and seemed to be labouring under the influence of some powerful excitement. He glared round the Court as a little buzz of astonishment naturally went up, and then took his place on the form where the witnesses were seated. The case then commenced. First and foremost the charge was read to me, and in reply to questions asked, I gave my name, age and address, and pleaded not guilty. A witness was then called to prove that I had ridden the horse The Unknown, supposed to be the property of, and entered in the name of Peter Dempster, in the race for the Barranda Cup, and that I was afterwards seen in the company of the missing man. The landlord of the hotel deposed that Jarman had dined out on the evening in question, and had not returned since then, either to pay his bill or to remove his effects. This evidence created a sensation, which was intensified when another witness stepped into the box, and swore that on the night in question, somewhere about half-past ten, he was taking a short cut across Pete's paddock to reach the township when he heard a sharp scream, such as would be made by a man in pain come from the direction of Dempster's house.

'And what did you do on hearing it?' asked the Lawyer, who, as I say, was conducting the prosecution.

'I stood still and listened for it again,' answered the witness.

'And did you hear it?' asked the Lawyer.

'No, not again,' replied the witness.

'And then?'

'I continued my walk towards the township.'

'You did not consider it sufficiently peculiar as to warrant your making inquiries?'

'It was so sharp and sudden that I did not know what it was.'

The Prosecuting Lawyer resumed his seat, and Mr Perkins thereupon jumped up and began to cross-examine the witness after his own fashion. When he had finished and had sat down again, he had elicited from the man—first that he could not even swear it was a human scream he heard; secondly, that it was so sudden and so short that he would hardly like to swear solemnly that he heard anything at all. It might have been, so the cross-examination elicited, the wind in the grass, a mopoke in a tree, perhaps, or a curlew down by the river side. The man could not state anything definitely, and Mr Perkins asked the Bench to severely censure the police for bringing such paltry and unreliable evidence before the Court. This was decidedly a point in my favour.

Pete's cook and housekeeper was the next witness called. After a good look at me, she asserted that she remembered seeing me sitting next to Jarman in the dining-room when she took in some hot water which had been ordered by Pete. That was about nine-thirty o'clock. The missing man, she said, was talking and laughing, and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. When she entered a second time, about ten-fifteen, I was not present in the room, though Jarman was. She did not hear a scream, nor did she see any of the visitors leave the house. She went to bed early, having to be up by daybreak next morning to bake her bread. On being asked if she had noticed anything peculiar about the dinner, either while it was proceeding or afterwards, she answered that she had not. Thereupon a small and dirty square of linen was produced by the police and laid on the table in the centre of the Court. The witness was asked if she recognised it, and she was obliged to admit that it was a tablecloth that had once belonged to Whispering Pete. It had been discovered by the police about a week after the dinner on the edge of a burned-out bonfire. The rest of the cloth had evidently been consumed by the fire. She was next asked if she could swear to the cloth that had been used on that occasion. This she could do, she answered, on account of a small iron mould in the corner. She was thereupon shown a mark of that description in a corner of the cloth. Having recognised it, she was told to step down, and Marmaduke Heggarstone was called.

With a hasty glance at me, my parent walked into the box and took the customary oath. In reply to the Lawyer's questions, he asserted that I had ridden the race against his wishes, and that he had promised to turn me out of his house if I did so. I rode, and when I visited him shortly after ten o'clock on the night mentioned, he acted upon his word and turned me out. At the time I was the worse for liquor, and to the best of his belief was in a very quarrelsome condition. I had remained with him about a quarter-of-an-hour. Where I had gone after that he could not say, but he had since learned from his housekeeper that I had returned to the house later and had changed my clothes. After a short cross-examination by Perkins, which elicited very little, he sat down, and old Betty, our housekeeper, was called. She went into the box in fear and trembling, and immediately she got there began to cry. But the Lawyer was very easy with her, and in a few minutes she was able to answer his questions after her usual fashion. She deposed to hearing me come back to the house about half-past eleven, and to finding my best clothes hanging on the peg next morning when she went into my room. The Lawyer thereupon took up a coat from where it lay on the table and showed it to her.

'Do you recognise this garment?' he asked. She signified that she had seen it before.

'Where did you see it last?' he went on.

'When it was hanging up in Master Jim's room,' she said. 'Before you took it away.'

'How do you account for this stain on the left cuff? Or, perhaps, you have not yet seen it?'

The witness answered that she had noticed it on the morning following the dinner, and had intended to sponge it out, but had forgotten to do so.

Mr Perkins then cross-examined her as to the time at which she thought she had heard me re-enter the house, but he failed to shake her. When she left the box, the Government analytical chemist from Brisbane was called, and to my horror and astonishment swore that the stain upon the coat cuff was undoubtedly that of blood, and human blood. He had carefully examined it and tried it by all the known tests, and his opinion was not to be shaken. When he had finished his evidence my case had altogether changed. My tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of my parched mouth. I clung to the rail of the dock, and felt as if by this time all the world must be convinced of my guilt. I glanced at the form on which old McLeod sat, and saw that his face was ashen pale.

Then the last witness was called. He was a stranger to me. A tall, black-bearded man, with a crafty, unpleasant face. In answer to the usual questions he said his name was Bennett and that he was a settler on the Warrego River. On the day preceding the night in question, he had been in Carryfort township, when he received a letter sent by special messenger from Peter Dempster to say that he had a valuable horse which he wanted him to take charge of for a few months. A man would meet him at a certain corner of Judson's Boundary fence near the Blackfellow's well, outside Barranda township, about one in the morning, and give delivery. Yes! he had had many dealings in horses and cattle with the before-mentioned Dempster, and not liking to disappoint him in this case, camped near the place mentioned and waited for his messenger to make his appearance. At about twenty minutes past one o'clock, a man came into view bringing with him three horses, one of which, carrying an empty pack-saddle on its back, was the animal he was to take away. He had no difficulty in recognising the prisoner as the man who had brought him the horse. On being asked what he did with the animal after he had received it, he informed the Court that he took it back to the Warrego River, where it was afterwards seized by the police, with the pack-saddle which had been reposing on a shelf in his store ever since he had brought it home. Try how he would to do so, Perkins could not shake his assertion that I was the man who had handed him the horse.

The Government Analyst was then recalled and asked certain questions regarding the pack-saddle before mentioned. He stated that he had examined it carefully and discovered on both sides large stains, which he unhesitatingly declared to be blood, but whether the blood on the coat cuff and that on the pack-saddle were identical he could not decide. Again Perkins was to the fore, and endeavoured to prove that the marks upon the saddle might have been there prior to the ride that night. But I could see with half an eye that the Court had counted this as another point against me. The evidence of the Government Analyst concluded the hearing, and the Prosecutor thereupon asked the Court to commit me for trial. Perkins followed, and submitted that there was not sufficient evidence before the Bench to warrant them in doing anything of the sort. It was a forcible speech but quite useless, for after a brief consultation the verdict was, 'committed for trial at the next criminal sessions to be held in Marksworth.'

I was then removed and conducted back to my cell.

How I got through the rest of that miserable day I cannot remember. I believe I spent it cursing myself and the day I was born. Oh, what a pitiful fool I had been! If only I had listened to advice and had had nothing to do with Whispering Pete, what a different fate might have been mine. Even now it was possible for me to put myself right by giving evidence against him. But bad as my position was I could not save myself by doing that, and so I knew I must take the consequences whatever they might be.

All that afternoon and evening I sat with my head on my hands, thinking and wondering what Sheilah and her father would believe in the face of the evidence against me. They would see that I had perjured myself to them that night when I swore I had had nothing to do with Jarman's disappearance. What their feelings would be now seemed too horrible to contemplate.

Soon after nightfall I heard a commotion in the yard, and presently the Sergeant entered my cell. He was booted and spurred as if for a journey.

'Now, my man,' he said in a very different tone to that in which he had addressed me yesterday, 'you must prepare for a long ride. We're off to Marksworth at once. I've got an old horse for you, and I'll make it all as easy as I possibly can—provided you give no trouble, and don't make any attempt at escape.'

I was too much surprised at the suddenness of it all to do anything but assent, and so I was accordingly conducted to the yard where several horses stood ready saddled. The Sergeant had his well-known iron-grey, the trooper who was to accompany us was on another fine beast, and held the leading rein of a pack-horse in his hand, while a strong but patent safety animal was waiting for me. I mounted, and my hands were thereupon chained to the front of the saddle, the Sergeant took my reins, and we were in the act of riding out of the yard when someone ran out of the office and came towards me. It was Colin!

'Heggarstone,' he said hurriedly. 'Before you go I want to wish you good-bye and to say how sorry I am for you.'

'Thank you, Colin,' I said sincerely, more touched by his generosity than I could say, 'Tell Sheilah, will you, that I still assert my innocence, and that my every thought is of her.'

'I'll tell her,' he answered. 'You may be sure of that! Good-bye!'

Then we rode out of the yard, and down the street. Fortunately it was quite dark so our passage through the township attracted no attention. I looked at the lamp-lit windows and thought of the happy folk inside, and could have cried for very shame when I remembered that I too might have been in my own house, happy with my pretty wife, but for my own obstinate stupidity. Then we turned away from the creek, and in doing so left the houses behind us. For nearly four hours we rode steadily on in the dark—then reaching the end of a long lagoon, we stopped and prepared to camp. The trooper jumped off his horse and lit a fire, unpacked the load of the animal he led, while the Sergeant dismounted and unfastened my handcuffs. Then I descended from the saddle and stood by the fire. As soon as the horses were hobbled and belled we had our supper, after which blankets were spread, and I laid myself down to sleep with my right hand handcuffed to the Sergeant's left wrist. Overhead the stars shone brightly, and hour after hour I lay looking up into the vault of heaven, thinking of the girl who had trusted me and whose life I had wrecked. By-and-by a lonely dingo crept down from the Ranges behind and howled at us, and then I fell asleep and did not wake till daybreak.

As soon as breakfast was finished we mounted our horses and proceeded on our way again, not to stop until mid-day, and then only for half-an-hour. All the afternoon we continued our march and all the next day—indeed, it was not till nightfall of the day following that again that we saw ahead of us the lights of Marksworth, the biggest township on our side of Queensland. Arriving there, we rode straight up to the gaol, and I was duly handed over to the Governor. A cell was allotted to me, and, thoroughly tired out, I turned into my blankets and was soon fast asleep.

Three days later the Assizes commenced, and I learned from a warder that my case would be the last on the list. Mr Perkins had obtained an eminent Brisbane barrister to defend me, and I knew that, whatever the result might be, I should be able to say that I had had a good run for my money. The case had become widely known and had attracted an enormous amount of attention, so that when the morning of the trial came, and I entered the Court, I found it crowded to its utmost holding capacity. The Judge sat on the bench, clad in his robes and wig—the barristers in their gowns and wigs occupied their usual positions. But though I looked along the rows of staring people for the face of someone I knew, I could see nobody. Then my heart gave a great leap, for in the front row of the gallery, heavily veiled, sat Sheilah and her father. I was just going to make a sign to show that I saw her—when the door of the dock opened again, and who should be ushered in than Whispering Pete. My astonishment may be imagined. I had thought him thousands of miles away by this time, and had as little counted on seeing him as of having the Wandering Jew in the dock beside me. He was looking very ill; his face was pinched and haggard, and his eyes were ringed with dark circles. He bowed gravely to the Court, and then coolly shook hands with me. As he did so the work of empannelling the jury commenced, and when this had been satisfactorily accomplished, and we had both been charged and pleaded not guilty, the trial commenced. In its early stages it differed but little from the magistrate's examination, save for the wrangling and disputing that went on between the barristers. A man who had seen me ride The Unknown in the race gave evidence, followed by the individual who had met us with Jarman on the road to Pete's house, the person who had heard the cry came next, then Pete's housekeeper, and the incident of the tablecloth, after which my father, who looked in even worse health than at the magisterial examination, gave his evidence in more than his usual irritable fashion. Betty and the incident of my clothes, the Government Analyst, and the selector who had taken the horse from me followed in due order. The latter's complexion turned a sort of pea green when he was confronted with Pete. After that the Government Analyst deposed to the finding of the blood upon the pack-saddle.

When he left the box a sensation was caused by the appearance of the owner of the horse Gaybird. In answer to questions put to him he described the clever way in which the robbery of his famous horse had been accomplished. His stud groom and stable boys, it appeared, had been drugged, and the horse, with his feet swathed in flannel bandages, had been ridden out of the loose box between two and three in the morning. A blacksmith's shop was next visited and broken into, and the forge fire lit. The horse had then been re-shod all round, the only difference being that the plates were put on backwards. The result of this was that when the police thought they were following the tracks, he had in reality been going in an exactly opposite direction. That was the last he saw of the animal until he heard that he had been discovered by the Queensland police on the Warrego River, and he had gone up to identify him. Some spirited cross-examination followed, but without doing either of us very much good. The witness then stepped from the box and a Sergeant of Police took his place.

The Crown Prosecutor glanced at his notes and prepared to question him.

'On Thursday of last week, the day following the examination of one of the prisoners before the magistrates at Barranda, you received certain information, and on the strength of it you left Marksworth with another trooper and a black tracker. In what direction did you proceed?'

'To the pool known as the Blackfellow's Well, on the old Barranda road,' was the reply.

My heart turned to ice—a deadly cold sweat broke out all over me. What was coming now?

'Having arrived there, what did you do?'

'I dragged the well.'

'And what did you find?'

'A workman's shovel.'

The Crown Prosecutor took up a shovel from a heap of articles lying upon the table before him and handed it to the witness, who examined it.

'Is that what you found?'

'Yes! It is!'

'How do you recognise it?'

'By the brand upon the handle.'

'Very good. Now step down for one moment.'

The Sergeant did as he was ordered, and Timothy Cleary was called and took his place in the box. When he had been sworn, the Crown Prosecutor looked at him for a moment, and the examination proceeded as follows,—

Crown Prosecutor.—'You describe yourself as a station hand. Were you ever in the employ of either of the prisoners?'

Witness.—'I was!'

Crown Prosecutor.—'Which one?'

Witness.—'Mr Dempster.'

Crown Prosecutor.—'When, and for how long?'

Witness.—'It's difficult reckoning, sir, but 'twas in October two years back I went to him, and 'twas three months come next Tuesday that I left.'

Crown Prosecutor.—'Very good. Now take this shovel in your hand and examine it carefully. Have you ever seen it before?'

Witness.—'Many's the time, sir!'

Crown Prosecutor.—'Whose property was it when you knew it?'

Witness.—'Sure, it belonged to Mr Pete!'

Crown Prosecutor.—'The elder prisoner you mean—Peter Dempster. You are on your oath, remember, and you swear to this?'

Witness.—'I do, it's the truth sure I'm telling ye, sir, if it's my last word.'

Crown Prosecutor.—'Never mind your last word. Tell me this: How is it that you are so certain that this particular shovel was the prisoner's property?'

Witness.—'Because of the brand on the handle, and the burn just above the blade, sir! I put both on meself.'

Crown Prosecutor.—'Acting on the elder prisoner's instruction, of course?'

Witness.—'Of course, sir!'

Crown Prosecutor.—'That will do. I have done with you.'

Our barristers immediately began to cross-examine, but elicited nothing of any importance.

The Inspector of Brands was next called and sworn. His evidence was to the effect that the brand upon the shovel was that registered in the elder prisoner's name, and after our counsel had stated that he had no desire to cross-examine him he withdrew, and the Sergeant of Police who had found the implement was recalled.

He informed the Court that after discovering the shovel in question in the well, he had instituted a thorough and careful search of the locality. The result was that a rock on the hillside showed signs of having been tampered with and moved from its original position. This struck him as being curious, so he had it cleared away altogether. He then discovered that under where it had stood a large hole had been dug.

Here the excitement in Court became intense. I dared not look to right or left but stood staring straight before me at the Judge upon the bench.

'And having rolled away the stone, pray tell me what you found in that hole?' the Crown Prosecutor continued in the same remorseless voice.

'I found the decomposed body of a man sir!'

Great sensation in Court.

'And when you had made this alarming discovery, what did you do?' asked the Prosecutor.

'I brought it into Marksworth as quickly as possible.'

'Have you been able to discover whose body it was?'

'At the Coroner's inquest it was proved to be that of Jarman!'

'How was that proved?'

'By means of certain cards in a case,' the man answered, 'the name on the linen, certain letters in the pockets, and the inscription inside the cover of the watch.'

The witness then stepped down, and certain other people, strangers to me, were called. They affirmed that they had seen and identified the body as that of the Sydney detective, James Jarman.

Only one more witness remained to be examined, and he was now called. He informed the Court that he was a swagman, and that, on the night in question, he was camped near the main track on the outskirts of Barranda township. About a quarter past twelve o'clock, as nearly as he could fix it, he was awakened by the sound of horses approaching him at a smart pace. There was sufficient light for him to see that it was a man riding one horse and leading two others. The pack-horse on the right was loaded in the usual way; that on the left had a bulky package upon his back, and what looked very much like a shovel fastened to the top of it. On being asked by our counsel how he knew all this, he stated that he was lying under a tree scarcely ten yards distant from where the man passed. He could not say that he would know the rider again.

A doctor having given evidence as to the manner in which death had been caused, the case for the prosecution was at an end. For the defence a number of witnesses were called, particularly as to my character, and an attempt was made to prove that it was a matter of impossibility for me to have ridden from Barranda by the Blackfellow's Well track, dug the grave, buried the body, delivered up the horse, and reached the cattle camp at the time I did. Both our counsels made eloquent speeches, and just as dusk was falling, the Judge began his summing up. He drew the particular attention of the jury to the way in which all the circumstances of the case dovetailed into one another. The murdered man was at the house for the express purpose of arresting the prisoners on a charge of horse-stealing; he had last been seen alive by the woman who acted as housekeeper to the elder prisoner when he was sitting in that prisoner's dining-room. That was about a quarter past ten o'clock. It must be remembered by the jury, His Honour pointed out, that the younger prisoner, Heggarstone, was not present on the last occasion that she entered the room. From ten o'clock to ten-thirty it had been proved that he was in his father's house, evidently the worse for liquor. It would probably have taken him fully ten minutes in the state he was then in to walk back to the elder prisoner's house, which would bring it up to the time when another witness heard, or, more strictly speaking, thought he heard a scream come from the house. Then there were the two particulars about the burning of the tablecloth which had been used that night to be carefully considered, also the stain upon the cuff of the younger prisoner's coat, which he had gone back to his father's house to change at half-past eleven o'clock. Then it must be noted that at or about a quarter-past twelve o'clock a man was seen by another witness riding swiftly from the township on one horse, leading two others, one of which carried a peculiarly shaped burden with a shovel strapped upon it. At one-twenty, or thereabouts, the younger prisoner was met by another witness and relieved of one horse. That horse turned out to be stolen, by whom His Honour could not say, but without a doubt with the elder prisoner's knowledge and sanction. It was necessary for him to point out that there were two other cases on record against the prisoner Dempster of horse and cattle stealing in Queensland and one in the Colony of New South Wales. For each he had suffered terms of imprisonment. The police had obtained possession of the horse and pack-saddle, and the latter was found to be stained with blood. Since that time the police had discovered the shovel, marked with the prisoner's brand, at the bottom of the well near where the horse was handed over to the selector from the Warrego River; also the body of the murdered man buried beneath a rock on the hillside. The identification had been complete. In conclusion, he would draw their attention to the fact that there was a third man concerned in the case who had not yet been brought to justice, but who, doubtless, soon would be. It only remained for him to caution the jury to carefully weigh the evidence that had been submitted to them, giving the prisoners the benefit of every doubt that existed in their minds, and then to ask them to bring in a verdict in accordance with those beliefs.

When he had finished his address, the jury filed out of their box and left the Court, the Judge vanished into an adjoining room, and, amid a buzz of conversation, we were led to cells in the rear of the building. The heat was intense, and in the interval of waiting, which was less than a quarter-of-an-hour, I seemed to live my whole life over again. God help me, what a wretched man I was! Then we were called back to our places; the Judge entered, and silence was demanded. Next moment the jury filed in again. The foreman, I remember, was a little bald-headed fellow, in a long black coat, and wore spectacles. In reply to the usual questions by the Judge's associate, he stated that he and his colleagues had arrived at a decision.

'Do you find the prisoners guilty or not guilty?'

There was such a silence in the Court that you could have heard a pin drop as we waited for his answer.

It seemed years in coming. Then the foreman said,—

'We find both prisoners guilty. The younger, however, we strongly recommend to mercy, believing him to have been intoxicated at the time and under the influence of the elder.'

A little moan came from the gallery—followed by a cry of 'Silence in the Court.' Then came the solemn question,—

'Prisoners at the bar, have you anything to say why sentence should not be pronounced against you?'

Pete went to the front of the dock, and I thought he was going to give an explanation which would have saved me; but he only licked his thin lips and said,—

'I have nothing at all to say, Your Honour.'

I followed his example, with the addition that I reiterated my innocence.

Then the Judge turned to me and said,—

'James Heggarstone, you have been found guilty of complicity in the murder of James Jarman. You have had the benefit of the advice of a learned counsel, and you have had a fair trial. The jury, who have carefully weighed the evidence submitted to them, have recommended you to mercy, so nothing remains for me now but to pass sentence upon you.' (Here he glanced at a paper before him.) 'The sentence of the Court, therefore, is that you suffer penal servitude for the remainder of the term of your natural life.'

I murmured something in reply—what I could not tell you. Just as I did so there was the sound of a heavy fall at the back of the Court, and I looked round to see two policemen carrying my father out. Then the Judge fumbled about among his papers once more, and finally took up the awful black cap, and placed it upon his head. Then he turned to Pete, who was leaning quietly on the rail, and said,—

'Peter Dempster, you have been found guilty of the cruel murder of the man James Jarman, and with that verdict I most fully concur. Of the motive for the crime I say nothing, but the sentence of this Court is that you be taken back to the place whence you came, and there be hanged by the neck until you are dead. And may God have mercy on your soul!'

While the Judge was speaking Pete did not move a muscle of his face, but looked at him just as usual, and when he had finished, said as quietly as usual,—

'I thank Your Honour.'

After that we were led away.