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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rider of Waroona, by Firth Scott
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Rider of Waroona
+
+Author: Firth Scott
+
+Release Date: October 27, 2008 [EBook #27061]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIDER OF WAROONA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Wall and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+     The Rider of Waroona
+
+     By Firth Scott
+
+     Author of
+     "The Track of Midnight," "The Last Lemurian,"
+     "Romance of Polar Exploration," etc.
+
+     London
+     John Long, Limited
+     Norris Street, Haymarket
+
+     _All rights reserved_
+
+     _First Published in 1912_
+
+
+
+
+     SOME PRESS OPINIONS OF THE AUTHOR'S WORKS
+
+
+     _Daily Chronicle:_--"Mr. Scott knows the colonial, native born, to
+     the bones and the marrow."
+
+     _Westminster Gazette:_--"To say that each of them is a gem is not
+     saying too much."
+
+     _Globe:_--"Mr. Firth Scott writes a straightforward, vigorous
+     style, and has a keen eye for effective incident."
+
+     _World:_--"Deserves grateful recognition by lovers of tales well
+     told."
+
+     _Scotsman:_--"Characteristically Australian."
+
+     _Morning Post:_--"The story of Australian settlement is of
+     enthralling interest."
+
+     _Saturday Review:_--"This interesting and instructive book is very
+     pleasant reading."
+
+     _Literary World:_--"Mr. Firth Scott's stories are, alternately
+     imbued with rare glamour and realism. In either atmosphere he is
+     entertaining, and in both convincing."
+
+     _AT ALL LIBRARIES AND BOOKSELLERS_
+
+
+
+
+     Contents
+
+
+         I.    CROTCHETY DUDGEON            9
+        II.    THE RIDDLE                  21
+       III.    DISAPPEARED                 34
+        IV.    DURHAM'S SURMISE            44
+         V.    MRS. BURKE'S PRESENTIMENT   58
+        VI.    THE FACE AT THE WINDOW      79
+       VII.    SNARED                      93
+      VIII.    THE NOTE THAT FAILED       103
+        IX.    DUDGEON'S HOSPITALITY      118
+         X.    "FOOLED"                   133
+        XI.    MRS. BURKE'S REBUFF        156
+       XII.    AS THROUGH A MIST          173
+      XIII.    REVENGE IS SWEET           191
+       XIV.    THE LAST STRAW             211
+        XV.    THE RIDER'S SCORN          227
+       XVI.    LOVE'S CONQUEST            244
+      XVII.    DUDGEON PROPOSES           265
+     XVIII.    UNMASKED                   286
+       XIX.    THE ASHES OF SILENCE       307
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+CROTCHETY DUDGEON
+
+
+In an old, rackety, single-horse buggy, a vehicle which, to judge by the
+antiquity of its build and appearance and the rattle of its loose worn
+bolts, might have done duty since the days of the first pioneers,
+Dudgeon drove from his homestead to the bank.
+
+He was a man who never discarded any article of use or clothing until it
+was hopelessly beyond repair. With a huge fortune stowed away in
+gilt-edged securities and metropolitan house property, he grudged even a
+coat of paint for the vehicle he had driven for nearly forty years. The
+local wheelwright had long since declined to attempt to repair it, so
+the old man fell back on fencing-wire and his own skill whenever the
+final collapse seemed imminent.
+
+There was a legend circulating among the older residents of the district
+as to the reason for his peculiarities. To the younger generation it was
+merely an out-of-date story, for young Australia has scant heed for
+everything which does not come within his own personal range of
+experience or knowledge. But the legend, as extant, gave some
+significance to the seemingly unreasonable actions of the eccentric old
+man.
+
+In the early days, when railways were not and the land was open and free
+for the bold young bloods to conquer, Dudgeon had come out from the
+coastal cities of the south. He had health and strength, and a heart
+which knew not fear; but whatever of wealth he had had was left in the
+hands of gambling sharks in the cities whence he came. He arrived at the
+township on foot, a rare occurrence in those days when no man journeyed
+half a mile except in the saddle. But the fact that he had walked
+"looking for work," as he said, drew so much attention to him that
+offers were made from all sides to hire his services. He accepted the
+best, and went to Waroona Downs with the then owner, one Henry Lambton,
+who, with his wife and daughter, resided at the house beyond the range.
+
+Another was there also, a young man about Dudgeon's age, an Irishman
+named O'Guire, a dashing, reckless fellow who made up in sharpness of
+wit and trickery what he lacked in moral stability and scruples.
+Indirectly, he was the pivot on which the course of Dudgeon's life
+turned from the normal.
+
+The direct cause was Kitty Lambton.
+
+In a community where men predominate, every woman ranks as a belle; but
+throughout Waroona and the districts for hundreds of miles round, Kitty
+was queen, acknowledged even by her sister rivals. Before her charms
+young Dudgeon fell prostrate in adoration, and she, jealous of her sway
+over all with whom she came in contact, trifled and philandered with him
+until neither earth nor heaven held anything more adorable for him than
+herself. He was her slave, devoting himself to her with such abandon
+that her vanity was gratified to the extent of influencing her, when
+others began to remark upon the manly attractions of her admirer, to
+allow him the privilege of believing that she would marry him.
+
+But she was only trifling with him, callously and not too gently, for
+the edification of herself and her real lover, O'Guire. The truth leaked
+out when one day O'Guire vanished from the district and with him
+vanished Kitty.
+
+Thereafter Dudgeon was a changed man. Filled with an insensate belief
+that Lambton and his wife were mainly, if not entirely, responsible for
+an ill which brought them almost as much suffering as it brought him, he
+went from the place, hugging schemes of deep vengeance to his breast. It
+was in the days of the early gold finds, and Fortune showered on Dudgeon
+her compensation for the injury of Love. All that came to him he took
+and treasured, until he had enough for his purpose. Then he returned to
+Waroona, and set about exacting the full measure of his revenge upon the
+Lambtons.
+
+He drove them from Waroona Downs, following them from the district when
+they went, following them until he found them living with Kitty and her
+husband in one of the southern cities, struggling fiercely for a bare
+existence. The slings and arrows of misfortune had not brought out the
+better side of O'Guire's nature and, at the time Dudgeon pounced down
+upon them, he had only just emerged from prison. Detail was lacking in
+the current legend as to what immediately happened thereafter, for when
+Dudgeon came back to Waroona Downs he was silent on the subject, and
+only rumours filtered through of Lambton and his wife going down, each
+heart-broken, to a pauper's grave, while O'Guire and his wife barely
+eluded the final act of vengeance by escaping over sea.
+
+Under Dudgeon's ownership Waroona Downs flourished, and later he
+acquired the largest station in the district. The success he enjoyed at
+Waroona Downs followed him. His ownership of Taloona alone made him the
+richest man in the community.
+
+But no amount of money could bring back to him the nature which had been
+his before the bitterness of betrayal changed him to a misanthropical
+cynic. His hatred of women was not appeased by the revenge he had on the
+Lambtons and O'Guires. He would not employ a woman; he would not employ
+a man who was married; he would not tolerate the presence of a woman on
+any of his properties. However valuable a man might be to him as an
+employee, instant dismissal was inevitable directly that man announced
+his intention of marrying.
+
+In one instance the effect of this rule recoiled almost entirely on his
+own head, but that did not deter Dudgeon from adhering to it.
+
+He employed a man, first as overseer, then as manager, and finally as
+confidential factotum. Unknown to him, Dudgeon set numberless traps and
+pitfalls to test his reliability, and when, on every occasion, the man
+came through the tests unscathed, he received so much consideration from
+the taciturn old misanthrope, that he was currently regarded in the
+light of the heir to the Dudgeon millions.
+
+Perhaps something of the current belief crept into his own mind, for
+there came a time when he cast his eyes upon the sister of a neighbour
+and, braving the risk of Dudgeon's anger, sought her hand in marriage.
+Unfortunately for him she accepted him, and the news, travelling apace,
+reached the ears of Dudgeon before the happy lover had a chance to
+impart it personally. The old man rode direct to the station.
+
+"I'll have no women folk on my property," he blurted out as soon as he
+was face to face with his factotum. "Nor any man who has dealings with
+them. Clear out."
+
+It was vain to argue. All appeals to years of bygone service, all
+reference to business transactions then pending which would be
+jeopardised by the removal of the man who had the negotiations in hand,
+were curtly brushed aside. Dudgeon had spoken, and no power on earth
+would change him from his purpose. The would-be Benedick had chosen, and
+by that choice he had to abide.
+
+From that arose a quarrel with the bank, for the sudden dismissal led to
+an important transaction failing for the want of a simple act. The bank
+officials, knowing the man with whom they were dealing waited for the
+instructions which never came. Had they acted without them he would
+probably have repudiated their action, but as they did not act, he
+blamed them for his loss, accused them of dishonesty and removed his
+account, vowing never to have dealings with them again if he could avoid
+it, and always putting them to the greatest inconvenience when he was
+compelled to deal with or through them.
+
+Now, by an irony of fate, he was forced to have dealings with them
+again, dealings which he resented for more reasons than his antagonism
+to the institution, and dealings, moreover, which he was prepared to
+leave no stone unturned to bring to naught.
+
+He had placed Waroona Downs in the hands of Gale, the local auctioneer,
+for sale. The one condition he had imposed was that the purchaser should
+be a resident of the district, a condition he had considered ample to
+prevent the property passing into the possession of one of the
+opposite--and hated--sex. Yet that condition had failed. A purchaser had
+been found, a purchaser for whom the bank was acting, and a purchaser
+who, while being a resident in the district, was also a woman.
+
+Dudgeon--"Crotchety Dudgeon" as he was termed by his neighbours, who,
+despite his wealth, usually regarded him as being of no account in the
+general scheme of Nature--had done his best to repudiate the bargain;
+had blustered and fumed, threatening actions and penalties against all
+and sundry, but in vain. The bank officials were polite, listening to
+all he had to say in silence and only speaking in cold, precise, formal
+phrases to reiterate the intention of the purchaser to hold to her
+bargain, and the readiness of the bank to complete, on her behalf, the
+transaction.
+
+He refused to meet or see her, but he could not help hearing of her, and
+what he heard only served to stimulate his resentment, for her name,
+Nora Burke, recalled memories of his Irish rival O'Guire, while the
+bitterness of his surrender to the charms of Kitty Lambton was revived
+when he understood that Mrs. Burke also belonged to the fascinating type
+of woman.
+
+She had, he learned, the coal-black hair of the Western Irish, and
+grey-blue eyes which flickered and flashed behind thick dark lashes.
+What her other features were he did not hear, for her wealth of hair and
+the charm of her eyes carried all before them. But, as a matter of fact,
+no other feature was conspicuously beautiful, and it was difficult to
+realise where the charm of her face rested until the full force of the
+dark-lashed eyes was recognised. Within them lay the secret of the power
+she wielded.
+
+Although not above the average height, a graceful and well-proportioned
+figure gave the impression of a greater stature. One of the most
+accomplished horsewomen who ever sat a side-saddle, her appearance on
+horseback would alone have sufficed, in a community like Waroona, to
+have won for her the admiration and homage of the public. But there were
+yet other reasons for the popularity she acquired within an hour of her
+arrival.
+
+Forty miles from a railway, the township was the centre of a district
+divided into a series of sheep stations. When the season came for
+shearing the wool and despatching it to the markets in the cities on the
+coast hundreds of miles away, the population was fairly respectable in
+point of numbers, though with the riff-raff which formed the army of
+camp followers moving in the track of the shearers and teamsters,
+respectability was not otherwise manifest. But at other periods of the
+year, there were few men and fewer women scattered over the area marked
+on the map as Waroona, and including as many square miles as some
+English counties possess acres. Wherefore the arrival of any new-comer
+was an event; but when that new-comer was a woman, and one, moreover, of
+the many personal charms and accomplishments of Mrs. Burke, it was
+inevitable that her advent should form the subject of something more
+than passing interest.
+
+Her frank manner of speech also helped her, for there is nothing more
+objectionable to the average Colonial than the person who is reserved on
+the subject of his or her private and personal concerns.
+
+There was no such reserve with Mrs. Burke. She had not been twenty-four
+hours in Waroona before it was known that she was a young widow left
+with a stepson to bring up and educate on the rents from an impoverished
+Irish estate. Year by year it became more and more difficult, she said,
+to collect those rents from tenants to whom politics were more
+attractive than commercial obligations. Therefore, when a chance
+occurred for her to sell the estate, she did not hesitate to entertain
+it. But, in order that her stepson might still derive as much benefit as
+possible from the wreck of his ancestors' wealth, she determined, before
+selling, to seek in Australia a new heritage for the last of the Burkes.
+
+Waroona Downs was suggested to her as the very place to suit her, and
+Gale at once offered it to her. The negotiations were rapidly completed,
+and the community was collectively rejoicing at the good fortune of
+having so desirable an acquisition as the handsome Irishwoman added to
+it when a miniature thunder-bolt fell in the form of the emphatic
+refusal of the owner to sell the property to a woman.
+
+Following the advice of her many friends and admirers, Mrs. Burke took
+up her residence at the place so that she might claim the nine points of
+the law possession is said to give, while she handed to the bank the
+deeds of her Irish property, and against them the bank agreed to
+complete the purchase.
+
+Popular opinion was entirely with the young widow, and popular opinion
+was strong enough to force Dudgeon back to the last resource. This was a
+demand that the purchase price of the station should be paid in gold.
+
+The price was twenty-five thousand pounds and, as Dudgeon well knew,
+there was not such a quantity of coin to be found in the district, where
+it was the almost invariable practice to pay everything by cheque or
+order. He had preferred his demand formally; had waited for a reply that
+the bank was prepared to meet it and, as no such reply had reached him,
+was about to declare the matter at an end.
+
+He drew up at the bank. Eustace, the manager, was speaking to his
+assistant as the old man entered.
+
+"I've come for the money," he said abruptly, and stood by the counter,
+holding out his gnarled, bony hands.
+
+"You mean the purchase money for Waroona Downs, Mr. Dudgeon?" Eustace
+replied suavely. "You are rather early, are you not?"
+
+"I gave you notice three days ago. You'll pay over or the deal's off.
+Which is it?"
+
+Harding, the assistant, passed a document to Eustace.
+
+"These are the terms of the sale, Mr. Dudgeon," Eustace said in the same
+smooth tone. "The completion of the purchase is to be performed one
+month from the date on which the agreement to buy was made. Mrs. Burke
+agreed on the 20th of last month. To-day is the 17th. She has therefore
+three days before you can make your final demand."
+
+Dudgeon grabbed the document and read it through. The wording was as
+Eustace had said. He had played his card too soon.
+
+"I'll beat you yet," he cried as he flung the paper across the counter.
+"No matter what it costs, I'll never have a woman owning one of my
+properties. You're a lot of scheming scoundrels, but I'll beat you
+yet."
+
+He bounced out and flogged his horse to a gallop as he drove away.
+
+"If the head office had sent off the gold at once when I wired, it would
+have been here by now," Eustace said to his assistant.
+
+"Then everyone would have known it was here, and there is no saying what
+might have happened," Harding jestingly answered. "Anyway, it is due
+to-night."
+
+Later, when the bank had closed for the day, a light waggon drew up at
+the door with a couple of men in it.
+
+"We've some books and boxes of stationery for you from the Wyalla
+branch," one of the men called out as Eustace opened the door and looked
+out.
+
+A bushman slouching past with his roll of blankets slung across his
+back, glanced round at the waggon and continued his way to the hotel.
+Eustace and Harding both helped to carry the bundles and boxes into the
+bank. When they were all inside Eustace turned to the men.
+
+"You'll have some dinner with us before you go back?" he asked.
+
+"Can't, old chap. Head office orders. Don't know what sort of people the
+general manager thinks you've got in this part, but the strictest
+secrecy in everything were our instructions, so Ted and I are teamsters
+and nothing but teamsters till we get back to our own branch. So long,
+old chap."
+
+"It does seem a lot of rot," Harding remarked when the waggon was away
+again.
+
+"You haven't been here long enough to know old Dudgeon, Harding. Let us
+get the gold into the safe--we'll put it in the reserve recess. I only
+hope the old man comes in again to-morrow morning, so that we can pay it
+over and get clear of it and his business."
+
+But the next day passed without any sign of Dudgeon, and after a last
+look round to see that all was right Eustace and Harding bade one
+another good night with the hope that on the morrow Dudgeon would come
+for his gold, though there was still another day before he could legally
+demand it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE RIDDLE
+
+
+At five minutes to ten the following morning Eustace awakened to find
+the sunlight streaming into his room, the bank in absolute silence, and
+his head so light and dizzy he could scarcely stand when he sprang out
+of bed.
+
+He glanced at the alarm clock on the mantelpiece. The alarm was set for
+six, the hour at which Eustace almost invariably awakened. He had no
+recollection of hearing it ring that morning, yet only a touch was
+required to show that it had gone off at the proper time.
+
+His wife still lay in deepest slumber.
+
+"Jess! Jess!" he cried, as he shook her. "Wake up, Jess! It's nearly ten
+o'clock. Wake up! Wake up!"
+
+She stirred heavily, uneasily, drowsily.
+
+"Wake up! Wake up!" he repeated. "Look what time it is."
+
+She sat up with a gasp, pressing her hands to her head.
+
+"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed. "My head! How it throbs!"
+
+"It's nearly ten o'clock," Eustace cried. "I don't hear anyone moving.
+The bank must be open in five minutes."
+
+He hurried across the landing to his assistant's room and
+unceremoniously opened the door.
+
+His assistant was in bed in a heavy sleep.
+
+"Harding! Fred! Wake up, man! Do you know what time it is?" he said, as
+he grabbed the sleeper's arm and shook him so vigorously that he pulled
+him half out of bed.
+
+Sleepily Harding's eyelids lifted to reveal glazed and lack-lustre eyes.
+
+"What's up?" he mumbled. "What's the matter now?"
+
+"Look at the time," Eustace cried excitedly.
+
+Harding pushed his hand under his pillow, raised himself on his arm and
+flung the pillow over.
+
+"Where's my watch?" he exclaimed. "Where has it gone?"
+
+"Don't you hear me say it is nearly ten o'clock? What on earth do you
+mean by sleeping to this hour when the bank ought to be open?"
+
+Harding blinked at his pyjama-clad manager.
+
+"You don't seem to have been up so very long," he grumbled. "But where's
+my jolly watch gone? I'll swear I put it under my pillow last night. Are
+you having a joke? Have you hidden it?"
+
+"I have not touched your watch. I tell you it's ten o'clock and the
+bank----"
+
+"Then someone has stolen it," Harding exclaimed as he sat up.
+
+The pupils of Eustace's eyes contracted to pinpoints. With an
+inarticulate cry he dashed from the room and rushed to the stairs. He
+heard his wife call from the servant's room but paid no heed to the
+words.
+
+Down the stairs he plunged, springing across the passage to the door
+leading from the residential portion of the building to the banking
+chamber.
+
+The door was locked.
+
+"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "I was afraid it had been broken into."
+
+He ran upstairs again, meeting his wife at the top.
+
+"I can't wake that girl, Charlie. What shall I do?" she said.
+
+"Shy cold water over her," he answered abruptly as he went on to his
+room, where he seized his clothes and fumbled nervously for his keys.
+
+They were in the pocket where he always kept them.
+
+The discovery reassured him. Whatever else had happened, the bank was
+safe, for without the keys no one would be able to get at the cash. It
+was curious how everyone in the house had overslept themselves, but that
+was a detail to be unravelled subsequently. For the moment he must race
+into his clothes and be downstairs in time to have the bank's doors open
+to the public by ten.
+
+He was nearly dressed when Mrs. Eustace returned to the room.
+
+"Charlie, whatever has happened? Bessie can hardly stand. She's exactly
+as if she had been drinking."
+
+"Oh, don't bother me about Bessie," he said petulantly. "It's ten
+o'clock, and the bank is not open."
+
+He pushed past her and sped down the stairs. Despite his efforts to
+recover his confidence, his hand still trembled as he unlocked the door
+leading to the bank and entered the office.
+
+One quick glance round set his mind at ease. The place was in the same
+state of neatness and order as when he and Harding locked up the night
+before.
+
+He crossed to the street door, unlocked and unbolted it and pulled it
+open. As he did so, Harding came in through the private entrance.
+
+"I say, Eustace, hang it, what have you done with that watch?" he asked.
+"It's not in my room. Where have you put it?"
+
+"I have not seen your watch. Make haste and get the safes open and the
+books out. Look at the time," Eustace replied sharply.
+
+The keys of the big safe, or strong-room, as they termed it, were kept
+in a smaller one, to which there were two keys, Eustace and Harding each
+holding one. The last vestige of fear passed from Eustace's mind as the
+keys of the strong-room were found lying in their usual place. He sighed
+with relief as Harding picked them up, unlocked the heavy door and,
+swinging the handles, threw the strong-room open.
+
+The tray on which the cash had been placed after balancing the previous
+evening was in a small upper compartment resting on the books. It was
+the usual practice for Harding to remove it and hand it over to Eustace,
+who checked the contents while the books and documents necessary for the
+day's work were being arranged.
+
+But Eustace was too impatient to wait for the ordinary methods. As
+Harding pushed back the safe doors and bent down to remove the keys, he
+reached over him and caught hold of the tray.
+
+Instead of being heavy, as it should have been with all the gold, silver
+and copper coins, it came away in his hands light--and empty!
+
+His face went livid. He reeled back against the counter, letting the
+tray fall to the floor.
+
+"Gone!" he cried. "The money's gone!"
+
+Harding started up and stood staring, first at Eustace, then at the tray
+lying on the floor.
+
+"Gone?" he echoed. "Gone? How can it have gone?"
+
+"It has--the tray is empty," Eustace gasped in reply.
+
+Harding looked from the tray to the open safe. His glance rested on the
+drawer where the bank-notes were kept. He took hold of the handle and
+pulled the drawer out.
+
+It was empty.
+
+In an inner recess, guarded by second-locked doors, the gold reserve was
+kept. The night before the bags of gold had filled it to the doors.
+
+Harding tried the handles. They held. The locks had not been forced.
+
+"Have you the keys of the reserve?" he asked.
+
+With shaking hands Eustace produced them and stood watching, as the
+doors were unlocked and swung open.
+
+The recess was as empty as the cash tray.
+
+Dumbfounded, Harding turned to Eustace who, with his face ashen, stared
+blankly at the empty recess. Then a wild light leapt in his eyes and he
+seized the handle of a drawer in the counter where a loaded revolver was
+kept lest at any moment an attempt was made to rob the bank during
+office hours.
+
+Harding sprang to his side and gripped his arm.
+
+"Not that," he cried hoarsely. "Hang it, man, pull yourself together.
+Think of your wife!"
+
+"It's ruin--ruin for me. Better finish it," Eustace muttered.
+
+Holding him back with one hand, Harding pulled the drawer open with the
+other to take the revolver away. But the drawer was also empty.
+
+"That has gone as well," he cried, letting go his hold of Eustace as he
+stooped to peer into the drawer.
+
+Eustace sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands.
+
+"Oh, this is terrible--terrible," he moaned. "Terrible, terrible."
+
+The door leading to the house was flung open and Mrs. Eustace faced
+them.
+
+"Charlie!" she exclaimed. "My rings and jewellery have vanished. The
+cases are all empty. I am certain--why, what is the matter?" she broke
+off to ask as she caught sight of her husband.
+
+She glanced from him to Harding.
+
+"What has happened?" she said wonderingly, as she advanced further into
+the office.
+
+Opposite the open doors of the strong-room she saw the empty cash tray
+lying on the floor, the note drawer pulled out, the vacant space of the
+reserve recess.
+
+"Charlie!"
+
+Her voice went to a shriek as the truth flashed upon her.
+
+She rushed past Harding and flung herself on her knees beside her
+husband, her arms around him, her face upturned to his.
+
+"Oh, Charlie, Charlie! Whatever are we to do?" she cried.
+
+"Shall I go over to the police-station? We had better report it at
+once," Harding said quietly.
+
+Eustace raised his wife from her kneeling position.
+
+"You must not come in here now, Jess," he said. "Go and learn, as nearly
+as you can, what has been taken from the house. Harding and I must send
+word to the head office."
+
+He led her from the room and closed the door after her.
+
+"We shall have to use the code, I suppose," Harding said, as he
+returned. "If you will read out the words, I will write them."
+
+Eustace sank into his chair again and sat staring blankly in front of
+him.
+
+"Come, come, old chap," Harding exclaimed, as he laid his hand on his
+manager's shoulder. "Don't give way. There's a mystery in all this. We
+shall want all our wits to clear it up as it is; don't make it worse."
+
+Eustace raised his head.
+
+"But who can have done it, Harding? Who can have done it? Every place
+locked up and yet the money has gone! No one knew all that gold was
+here."
+
+"You and I knew it."
+
+"My God! You don't mean----" Eustace cried as he sprang out of his
+chair. "You don't----"
+
+"Steady, old man, steady. Keep your head. There's nothing to be gained
+by getting excited. You and I knew it was here and someone at the head
+office knew, as well as the fellows at Wyalla. Some word may have leaked
+out while it was on the road. There's no saying off-hand; what we've got
+to do is to keep cool and go slow if we're to clear ourselves. I'm as
+much concerned in this matter as you are."
+
+Eustace shook his head.
+
+"No, Harding. I'm manager, and all the responsibility is on my
+shoulders. Whatever comes to light, I'm ruined. The bank will fire me
+out directly they hear of it--and this was my first branch too."
+
+"I would not look at it like that," Harding replied. "No game is lost
+till it's won. I'll send Brennan over as I pass the station. He may be
+able to throw some light on it. Come. Let us draft the report for the
+head office."
+
+But Eustace was too unnerved to render any assistance, and it was
+Harding who, single-handed, drafted and coded a brief message reporting
+what had been discovered. Not until this message was handed to him did
+Eustace move.
+
+"That's my death warrant," he said gloomily as he signed it.
+
+Harding took the message and left the office. The township boasted only
+one street, the bank being at one end, the post office at the other.
+Midway between the two was the police-station, where the one constable
+responsible for the maintenance of law and order within the district
+resided.
+
+"Get over to the bank, will you, Brennan?" Harding said as he entered
+the station. "You'll have your hands full this time. There's been a
+robbery during the night, and all the cash cleared out."
+
+"What's that, Mr. Harding? The bank robbed? You don't mean it!"
+
+"Go and ask Eustace; he'll give you all the details. It's floored him.
+Hurry over, there's a good chap. I'm on my way to the post office to
+wire to the head office; I can't stay now."
+
+Ten minutes later the news was known from one end of the township to the
+other, and was travelling in every direction through the bush to the
+outlying stations and selections.
+
+The farther it travelled the more astounding it became, and yet the form
+in which Brennan telegraphed it to his Inspector showed it to be
+sufficiently startling and mysterious.
+
+When the reports had been wired away, Eustace recalled an incident he
+had forgotten in the excitement of the initial discovery.
+
+During the evening, soon after sunset, a stranger called at the bank. He
+came to the private entrance where he was seen by Eustace, who described
+him as a well-built man of medium height, with sandy hair and beard and,
+by appearance, an ordinary bushman. He said he had come in from a
+distant station with a cheque he wanted to cash, but as the bank was
+closed for the day, Eustace told him he would have to come again in the
+morning. He had gone, mounting his horse and riding away in the
+direction of the hotel where stockmen usually congregated.
+
+Brennan went to the hotel in search of him, but no one knew anything
+about him there, nor had anyone else seen him either in or out of the
+township.
+
+"But he must have been seen," Eustace exclaimed impatiently, when
+Brennan returned to the bank with the news. "He must have been seen. He
+could not have vanished."
+
+"Did anyone else see him besides you when he called?" Brennan asked.
+
+"No, I was passing the front door at the moment he came. No one else saw
+him, so far as I know. But he must have been seen in the township. He
+must have gone to the hotel."
+
+They were standing in the bank office, Brennan on one side of the
+counter, Harding and Eustace on the other.
+
+"You didn't see him?" Brennan asked, looking at Harding.
+
+"No, I didn't see him," Harding answered.
+
+"But you heard me speak to someone--I came into the dining-room and told
+you it was a man who wanted a cheque cashed," Eustace exclaimed.
+
+"That's right," Harding said quietly, "I was going to say so when you
+interrupted me."
+
+There was a hum of voices outside and half a dozen men came into the
+office--Allnut, the largest storekeeper in the town; Soden, the
+hotelkeeper; Gale, the local auctioneer; Johnson, the postmaster, and
+two men who were strangers.
+
+"Here, Soden," Eustace cried, as soon as he caught sight of the
+hotelkeeper. "Do you mean to say that the man I told Brennan about never
+came to your house last night?"
+
+Soden, a slow-witted, heavy-built man, shook his head.
+
+"Not a sign of him, Mr. Eustace," he answered. "But these two men came
+in just now. They've got something to say," he added, turning to
+Brennan.
+
+One of the two men stepped forward.
+
+"We didn't think much of it in a general way," he said, "leastways not
+until we heard at the pub about the robbery. You see, me and my mate
+camped last night about five miles out on the road. As near as we can
+say, it was somewhere about midnight when Bill--my mate," he added as he
+waved his hand towards his companion, "looked out of the tent. 'Hullo,
+Jim,' he says, 'what's this? Here, come and look, quick.' You see, from
+where our camp was we could get a view half a mile down the road. Well,
+when I looked out I saw, coming along the road at racing speed, a
+pair-horse buggy with two men in it. The chap who was driving had the
+horses at full gallop as they passed the camp, but it wasn't him so much
+that I noticed as the horses. You see, they were both white--white as
+milk. The moon was up and they showed real pretty."
+
+"White?" Brennan exclaimed.
+
+"White as milk," the man replied. "That's what made Bill call out. We
+didn't know there was a white horse in the whole of Waroona, let alone
+two of them."
+
+"Was that on the main road?" Brennan asked.
+
+"On the main road--just about five miles out."
+
+"I know every horse in the district, and there's not a white one among
+them," Gale said.
+
+"These were white--white as milk," the man repeated. "It was what made
+us look."
+
+"If the horses were galloping the tracks would still show in the road,"
+Gale said to Brennan. "Shall I ride out and have a look?"
+
+"If you've got a buggy, me and my mate will come too and show them to
+you," Jim exclaimed resentfully.
+
+"That would be better," Brennan said.
+
+"Come along then," Gale exclaimed, and left the bank with the two men.
+
+As soon as they were gone Brennan turned to Johnson.
+
+"Two white horses can't go far in this district without being noticed.
+Will you wire round to the different telegraph offices and ask if
+anything of the kind has been seen or heard of?"
+
+"They cannot have gone more than a hundred miles since midnight, can
+they?" Johnson asked.
+
+"A hundred? No, not fifty," Allnut exclaimed.
+
+"Well, we'll say a hundred. I'll wire to every telegraph office within a
+hundred miles. I'll send or bring you word within half an hour."
+
+"Supposing there is any truth in the yarn," Soden remarked slowly, "how
+is it going to help? I brought the men along, not because I believed
+their yarn, but because it seemed to me they might know more about the
+robbery than they would care to have known."
+
+"There's no harm in sending off those telegrams, anyway. I'll get away
+and put them through," Johnson said as he went to the door.
+
+He stood for a moment looking out along the road.
+
+"I fancy that's Mrs. Burke coming," he called back over his shoulder to
+Eustace.
+
+Soden, Allnut, and Brennan, at the mention of the name, moved towards
+the door, and Harding came round the counter to join them.
+
+"You had better see her, Harding," Eustace said under his breath. "Tell
+her everything will be all right so far as she is concerned. We cannot
+say more until we hear from head office."
+
+The other three men were already out on the footpath in front of the
+bank entrance. Eustace slipped into the little ante-room that served as
+the manager's private office, as the sound of a vehicle pulling up
+outside the bank reached him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+DISAPPEARED
+
+
+"Oh, never mind," Mrs. Burke exclaimed as Brennan went to the horse's
+head and took hold of the reins. "Sure I'm only stopping for a moment--I
+won't get out. It's just to see Mr. Eustace I've come."
+
+The men on the footpath looked at one another and then at her.
+
+In the doorway Harding stood hesitating whether to go out or to wait
+until Mrs. Burke alighted from the buggy.
+
+"You've heard the news, haven't you?" Allnut asked as he stepped to her
+side. "Ill news travels apace, they say. Hasn't word got out as far as
+the Downs?"
+
+Mrs. Burke turned the full battery of her dark-fringed eyes on the
+storekeeper.
+
+"News? What news?" she exclaimed. "I've only just come in. Has anything
+happened?"
+
+She glanced at Harding where he stood in the doorway.
+
+"To Mr. Eustace? Nothing has happened to Mr. Eustace, has there?" she
+added, as she leaned towards Allnut.
+
+"Well, I don't know," he replied in an uncertain voice. "It affects him
+more or less, I suppose, seeing he is the manager. The bank has been
+robbed, you know."
+
+It was well Brennan was at the horse's head, for the shriek with which
+Mrs. Burke greeted the information was heard at the post office the
+other end of the town and made the horse plunge and rear. Although
+Brennan managed to hold it from bolting, it forced the buggy back on the
+footpath and almost turned it over. But Mrs. Burke was out long before
+then, for with a bound she sprang from the vehicle, sending Allnut
+staggering as she blundered against him in her rush for the bank.
+
+Harding, having heard Allnut's words, stepped forward to meet her.
+
+"You need not be alarmed, Mrs. Burke," he said, as she dashed up. "So
+far as you are concerned----"
+
+"Where's that villain? Where's that wretch? He's stolen my deeds! I know
+it, I know it! I'm ruined! Brennan, come and arrest him."
+
+Her words, shouted at the top of her voice, rang through the place and
+out on the roadway, where Brennan was still struggling with her rearing
+horse, and Soden and Allnut stood by as sympathetic onlookers.
+
+"If you will come in, the manager will explain the matter to you,"
+Harding said.
+
+"Don't talk to me about explaining," she shouted in answer. "Where are
+my deeds? Where are the deeds of my Irish property? If you've stolen
+them----"
+
+"Pray speak quietly, Mrs. Burke," Harding said. "There are others who
+can hear you, and the bank----"
+
+"Others? Others hear me? I'll let them hear me. I want them to hear me.
+I've nothing to hide, and I'll not shelter any scoundrel who will rob
+and cheat a lonely widow. Maybe others will not stand by and see an
+unfortunate poor weak woman robbed and swindled----"
+
+"If you will come inside, Mrs. Burke----"
+
+"I'll not come inside. I want my deeds back. I'll have nothing more to
+do with your wretched bank. Sure I'm distracted. Have you those deeds?"
+
+"Mr. Eustace," Harding began, when she flung round and leaped away from
+the door.
+
+"Brennan!" she cried. "Brennan! Come here, Brennan. They've robbed me of
+my deeds, the deeds of my Irish property. They insisted I should leave
+them here, and now they tell me they're stolen. Who's stolen them if it
+isn't that scoundrel in there? Come and arrest him. Come and help me
+recover my just rights."
+
+She shouted out the words despite the fact that Brennan was still
+careering round in the roadway trying to pacify her plunging horse.
+
+Harding glanced over his shoulder towards Eustace's room as she left the
+doorway. He saw Eustace slip from the room and make for the door leading
+into the private portion of the house. At the door he turned.
+
+"Get her to come in here," he said impatiently.
+
+As he was speaking Mrs. Burke flounced round again and caught sight of
+him.
+
+"Oh, there you are," she cried, as she stepped inside. "Now, what have
+you to say?"
+
+Eustace closed the door after him as she was speaking.
+
+Mrs. Burke rushed out again into the road.
+
+"Mr. Allnut! Mr. Soden! I can trust you. Will you stay here and see that
+villain does not slip out and escape? He's gone into the house. I'll go
+to the front door."
+
+She ran towards the private entrance, but stopped opposite Brennan, who
+had at last succeeded in getting the horse under control.
+
+"They've robbed me, Brennan," she cried. "I left all the deeds of my
+Irish property with them. They've stolen them and say the place has been
+broken into as a blind. I don't believe it. It's Eustace. I never
+believed in him. Sure, if it hadn't been for Mr. Gale I'd never have
+listened to him. But now what am I to do? Where's Mr. Gale? Why isn't he
+here to help me? Why don't you tell him to come at once?"
+
+"Mr. Gale has gone along the road with two men we want to know something
+about, Mrs. Burke. He'll return shortly. You had better see Mr. Eustace.
+It's only money which has been taken, I believe. Mr. Eustace will be
+able to tell you all about it."
+
+"But he is trying to escape," she said in a whisper. "I saw him go out
+of the other door. He'll get away. Come and arrest him."
+
+"Never fear," Brennan answered, as he smiled. "I'll see he doesn't get
+away. I'll watch here till you come out."
+
+"Will you please come this way, Mrs. Burke? Mr. Eustace is waiting to
+see you," Harding called out from the bank entrance.
+
+"I'll go," she said to Brennan. "But mind! I rely on you--thank God your
+father and mother were Irish even if you were born out here."
+
+"Mr. Eustace asks if you will mind going into the dining-room," Harding
+said.
+
+She shot a resentful glance at him as she swept by and passed through
+into the house. Eustace met her and led her into the dining-room,
+closing the door after him. As Harding shut the door leading from the
+bank, Johnson, the postmaster, came in.
+
+"Here is a message just come through--I brought it down at once as I
+thought you'd be anxious," he said.
+
+"Half a minute," Harding said, as he took the telegram. "Eustace is
+seeing Mrs. Burke in the house. I'll take it to him in case there is a
+reply."
+
+He went through to the dining-room, knocked at the door and opened it.
+Mrs. Burke, her eyes flashing and her cheeks flushed, was standing
+facing Eustace, who sat by the table with his head resting on his hand.
+
+"Here's a telegram--Johnson is waiting to see if there is any reply,"
+Harding said, as he held out the message.
+
+Eustace took the telegram mechanically, opened and read it and handed
+it, open, to Harding.
+
+"Read it," he said. "There's no answer. I'll join you presently."
+
+Harding left the room, glancing at the message as he crossed the
+passage. It required no answer, as Eustace had said. It was very brief.
+
+     "Inspector Wallace will take charge."
+
+Harding whistled. Wallace was the senior inspector of the service, and
+his special faculty was the unravelling of tangled accounts and the
+detection of defaulting managers and cashiers. Leaving the ordinary
+inspection of branches to his juniors, Wallace only journeyed from the
+head office to take charge when grave suspicions were entertained as to
+the integrity of a branch staff. The telegram was tantamount to an
+intimation that the authorities of the bank did not regard the robbery
+as the work of an outsider.
+
+As he re-entered the office, Brennan was standing at the entrance with
+Johnson.
+
+"No answer," Harding said quietly, and Johnson nodded and went off.
+Brennan turned and crossed to the counter.
+
+"Is Mr. Eustace about?" he asked.
+
+"He is talking to Mrs. Burke in the dining-room. She's rather excited,
+and he took her in there because she would shout so. He'll be back in a
+few minutes, unless you want to tell him something particularly at
+once," Harding answered.
+
+Brennan glanced at a telegram he held in his hand.
+
+"It will do when he comes out," he answered slowly. "Have you had any
+word?" he added, as he leant over the counter.
+
+"The head office wires that Inspector Wallace--our bank inspector, that
+is, not one of your police inspectors--is coming up."
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+Harding gave a short laugh.
+
+"All? It's quite enough, Brennan. Between you and me it means that
+Eustace and I are suspected--one of us or both."
+
+"Yes, that's right," Brennan said quietly. "One or both."
+
+As he spoke he held out a message for Harding to read.
+
+     "Keep manager under close surveillance till I arrive.
+     "DURHAM."
+
+"You know who Durham is?" Brennan asked.
+
+"Never heard of him," Harding answered.
+
+"He's the finest man who ever put on a uniform," Brennan exclaimed. "He
+is the sub-inspector in charge of this district--he's only been
+appointed a couple of months. I reckon it's only a temporary thing for
+him, just until there's room to make him an inspector. It's a good thing
+for your bank he is coming up. If anyone on earth can unravel a mystery,
+my sub-inspector is the man. He won't be long before he has the matter
+cleared up."
+
+"If he can get to the bottom of this business, I'll agree with you,"
+Harding replied. "But I don't think very much of his first idea; I don't
+think he is right if he suspects Eustace. When do you expect him?"
+
+"I should say he will be here some time during the day. He wired from
+Wyalla, and I expect he'll ride across country--it will be quicker than
+waiting for a train at the junction. Ah, there's Mr. Gale back," he
+exclaimed, as a buggy drove past the bank. "If you'll let me know when
+Mr. Eustace is free, I'll just step out and hear what he has discovered
+about the yarn the men told us."
+
+"All right. I'll call you as soon as Eustace comes in," Harding said,
+and Brennan left the office.
+
+Soon after he had gone Harding heard the dining-room door open and Mrs.
+Burke's voice ring through the house.
+
+"I don't believe a word of it. It's false; it's untrue. It's all a
+blind. I'll see whether there is not justice in the land for an
+unfortunate widow robbed of her all."
+
+Then the door was slammed and the front door opened and slammed also.
+
+Harding sat waiting for Eustace to come back to the office. He heard
+Mrs. Burke's voice sounding shrill outside, but not clear enough for him
+to distinguish what she was saying. Then the buggy started and drove
+rapidly away.
+
+A gentle tap came at the door leading to the house, and Mrs. Eustace
+opened it and looked in.
+
+"Has that dreadful woman gone?" she asked in an agitated voice. "Is
+Charlie here?"
+
+Harding rose and went over to her.
+
+"No. He has not come back yet. He is in the dining-room. Shall I tell
+him you want him?"
+
+"Oh, no, perhaps it will be better to leave him alone till he comes out.
+Did you hear what she said? She has been making such a scene in there.
+Poor Charlie, as if he had not enough to worry him as it is, without her
+saying such terrible things."
+
+Brennan, with Gale and Johnson, appeared at the entrance, and Mrs.
+Eustace went back into the house, closing the door after her.
+
+"Mrs. Burke has gone," Brennan said, as he came over to the counter. "Is
+Mr. Eustace in the office?"
+
+"He has not come out of the dining-room yet. Shall I tell him?" Harding
+replied.
+
+"I'll go through," Brennan said.
+
+Harding opened the door and stood holding it, with Gale and Johnson
+behind him, as Brennan went to the dining-room door and knocked.
+
+Receiving no answer, he opened the door.
+
+"There is no one in there," he called out.
+
+With one accord the three moved forward. Brennan was half-way across the
+room when they reached the door. He went to the window and looked at the
+fastening.
+
+"He did not get out this way," he cried. "He must be in the house
+somewhere."
+
+Mrs. Eustace appeared on the stairs, and came down.
+
+"Where is your husband, Mrs. Eustace?" Brennan exclaimed directly he saw
+her.
+
+"He was in there--isn't he in there now?" she said, as she passed into
+the room.
+
+"He is not here, Mrs. Eustace, though Mrs. Burke left him here when she
+came out a few minutes ago. Where is he?"
+
+With widely open eyes Mrs. Eustace stared from one to the other.
+
+"Oh, what is it?" she cried. "What is it? Tell me--is it----"
+
+For a moment she stood with her eyes fixed on Brennan.
+
+"Oh, my God!" she cried as she flung up her arms and fell headlong to
+the floor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+DURHAMS'S SURMISE
+
+
+Eustace had disappeared as completely and mysteriously as the gold which
+had been in his keeping.
+
+Every corner of the building from the roof to the basement was examined.
+Even the cupboards were inspected and the made-up beds pulled to pieces,
+lest he should have succeeded in secreting himself amongst the jam-pots
+or inside the covering of a pillow; but no trace of him could be found.
+
+His hats hung on their accustomed pegs, so that if he had gone from the
+house he must have gone bareheaded. But the question which none could
+answer was how he had managed to go from the house at all.
+
+At the time Mrs. Burke left the dining-room, Brennan was standing
+talking to Gale and Johnson in front of the private entrance. In the
+office Harding was waiting for his manager to come from the house. Thus
+two out of the three ordinary means of exit could not have been used
+without Eustace being seen. The third was the back door opening from the
+scullery, which, in turn, opened from the kitchen. Bessie was in the
+kitchen when the slamming of the dining-room door announced the
+departure of Mrs. Burke.
+
+Both she and her mistress were insistent that Eustace did not pass
+through the kitchen. Each told the same story when interrogated. As soon
+as the signal of Mrs. Burke's departure was heard, Mrs. Eustace went to
+the door leading from the kitchen to the passage and stood waiting for
+her husband to appear. When he did not do so, she went to the door of
+the office, knocked, and asked Harding if Eustace were there. She
+maintained that the door of the dining-room had not been opened after
+Mrs. Burke flounced out. Harding, who was listening in the office, also
+maintained it had not been opened.
+
+The mystery of Eustace's disappearance was still agitating everyone when
+Sub-Inspector Durham rode up to the bank. Listening, without comment, to
+all Brennan had to report, he went through the premises with Harding and
+Brennan, saying nothing till he came to the back door.
+
+Situated as it was, with only the bush behind and beyond it, the bank
+was thus free from being overlooked. A block of ground at the back was
+surrounded by a three-rail fence, but the cultivation was limited, a
+score of fowls occupying the far end and the remainder of the area
+consisting of a grass patch and a few indigenous shrubs left when the
+ground was fenced in from the bush.
+
+Standing there, he waved his arm comprehensively towards the unoccupied
+land at the side and back of the building.
+
+"Once outside, who was to see him clamber over that fence and make for
+the shelter of the bush?" he asked. "While you were loitering at the
+front door, Brennan, your man was walking out at the back."
+
+Brennan gnawed his moustache in chagrin.
+
+"But--how did he get out of the dining-room?" Harding exclaimed.
+
+Durham turned slowly and looked steadily into Harding's eyes.
+
+"He walked out, Mr. Harding, walked out through the door."
+
+"The door was shut."
+
+"When you saw it. It was probably closed as noiselessly as it was
+opened--his wife saw to that. Then, as soon as he had slipped out this
+way, she came to your office and threw dust in your eyes by asking where
+her husband was. Just the sort of thing a woman would do. What did he do
+with his keys--the bank keys, I mean?"
+
+"He had them with him."
+
+"Oh, no, Mr. Harding. They would be no further use to him. He must have
+left them behind him. We shall find them somewhere. Let me have a look
+at the safes which were robbed."
+
+"Shall I send off a description of the man to the police in the
+neighbourhood, sir?" Brennan asked.
+
+"Did you not do so at once?" Durham asked, swinging round sharply.
+
+"I was preparing it when you arrived, sir."
+
+"We will look at the safes," Durham said.
+
+Harding had pushed-to the doors of the big safe As he pulled them open
+Durham pointed.
+
+"What keys are those?" he asked.
+
+In the lock of the reserve recess the keys Eustace gave Harding in the
+morning were still hanging. Harding took them out.
+
+"They are the manager's keys," he said. "In the excitement of the
+discovery that all the gold had gone, I must have forgotten to return
+them. I had no idea they were here when you asked me what Eustace had
+done with the keys. I entirely forgot them."
+
+"But he did not, Mr. Harding. Do you know where he kept his private
+papers?"
+
+"That was his private office," Harding replied, pointing to the little
+ante-room.
+
+"When do you expect the relieving officer to arrive?"
+
+"I can hardly say. He may come by train to the junction, in which case
+he should be here about noon to-morrow."
+
+"Then you will be in charge until he arrives?"
+
+"I have telegraphed to the head office reporting that Eustace has
+disappeared and asking for instructions. Until they come, of course, I
+am in charge."
+
+"Then you will come with me while I examine his desk, though I do not
+suppose it contains anything but official papers--now. In the meantime,
+Brennan, send away your description to all the neighbouring
+police-stations and also to head-quarters for general distribution. When
+you have done that you can come back here. I shall be waiting for you."
+
+He followed Harding into the little room.
+
+"You had better go through the papers, Mr. Harding. They will probably
+all relate to the bank's business. I only want to see those which do
+not."
+
+"It was in this drawer he kept his own papers," Harding said, as he
+touched the knob of one of the side drawers.
+
+"Is it locked?"
+
+"No," Harding replied, as he pulled it out. "But it is empty," he added.
+
+"Quite so," Durham replied in an unconcerned voice. "As I expected."
+
+Harding stared at him in perplexity.
+
+"But--but----" he stammered. "I don't understand it. I cannot--I cannot
+believe it of him."
+
+Durham stood silent.
+
+"Only a madman would have done such a thing, and Eustace is no more mad
+than I am," Harding added.
+
+Still Durham said nothing.
+
+"But if he had done such a thing, why did he remain here? Why not get
+away at the same time as he got the gold away? Surely----"
+
+"Would you mind looking through the remainder of the drawers?" Durham
+interrupted.
+
+Harding opened them one after the other, examined the papers they
+contained, and replaced them without making any further remark. The
+search was unavailing so far as private papers were concerned--all were
+connected with the bank. As Harding examined them, Durham stood beside
+the table without a word or a glance at the papers. When the last drawer
+had been opened, gone through, and closed, Harding turned to him.
+
+"There is nothing here except what concerns the bank," he said.
+
+"You are sure he kept all his own papers here?"
+
+"Quite sure. The first drawer I opened was full of them yesterday. He
+had it out after the bank closed last night when I came in to give him
+the cash balance."
+
+"I will see Mrs. Eustace," Durham said shortly. "In the interests of the
+bank I should like you to be present. Will you ask her to come in here?"
+
+"Perhaps she would rather see you in the house."
+
+"As she pleases--if you will ask her."
+
+Harding found her sitting disconsolately in the dining-room and gave her
+Durham's message.
+
+"Very well, I'll see him--here--if you stay."
+
+She spoke without moving her eyes.
+
+"I will be here," he said as he left the room to call Durham.
+
+In the office he found a telegram had just arrived. It was an answer to
+his wire to the head office.
+
+     "Close office. Do all to assist the police. Wallace should arrive
+     noon to-morrow."
+
+He handed the message to Durham, who just glanced at it.
+
+"Is she coming in here or not?" Durham asked.
+
+"She is in the dining-room, and will see you there," Harding answered.
+
+Mrs. Eustace was standing staring out of the window when they entered
+the room.
+
+"I can tell you nothing. I know nothing more than I have already said,"
+she exclaimed as she turned to meet them.
+
+"If you will kindly answer my questions I will be obliged," Durham
+replied. "Can you tell me where your husband kept his private papers?"
+
+"Yes, in his office--that is, as a rule."
+
+"And when he did not keep them there, where were they?"
+
+"Oh, he always kept them there, but sometimes he had some in his pocket.
+Last night----"
+
+"Yes? Last night----?" Durham said as she stopped.
+
+"Oh, it's nothing. Merely that he had some papers in his pocket and
+discovered they were there when he was upstairs."
+
+"Do you know what he did with them?"
+
+"Of course I do. He left them on the dressing-table. They are there
+now."
+
+"Will you show them to me?"
+
+"Mr. Harding, will you take him upstairs? The papers are by the
+looking-glass."
+
+Durham followed Harding upstairs without a word. On the dressing-table a
+small packet of folded documents was pushed half under the mirror.
+Durham picked them up and glanced at them.
+
+"Thank you," he said. "Now we will go down again."
+
+"These are the papers you referred to?" he asked, as soon as they were
+in the dining-room.
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Eustace answered.
+
+Durham laid them on the table in front of him.
+
+"Can you tell me anything about your husband's private affairs?" he
+asked, looking steadily at her.
+
+"I don't quite understand what you mean," she replied slowly.
+
+"In regard to his mining speculations."
+
+Harding saw the momentary start, quickly recovered, that she gave at the
+question.
+
+"Do you know he speculated?"
+
+She sat silent with averted face.
+
+"Do you know he speculated both in shares and horse-racing?"
+
+Still there was no reply, and Durham added, "Speculated and
+lost--heavily?"
+
+"Not heavily," she exclaimed, flashing round upon him. "He did not lose
+heavily. He may have----"
+
+She checked her words suddenly, closing her lips and turning her face
+away.
+
+"Will you please finish your sentence, Mrs. Eustace?"
+
+"He may have lost--sometimes; but he won as well. He had those
+shares--they may yet bring him in a fortune," she said, pointing to the
+papers on the table.
+
+"Do you know if there was ever any official reference to his
+speculations?"
+
+Harding could barely hear the words as, with bowed head, Mrs. Eustace
+replied.
+
+"I did not quite catch your answer," Durham said quietly.
+
+"I said yes, there was--once."
+
+"Did he tell you what was said?"
+
+"I don't know," she said after a few moments' silence. "You had better
+ask the bank. I don't know anything about it."
+
+"Perhaps you know why your husband was appointed to this branch?"
+
+"I don't know anything about it," she replied in a low tone.
+
+"It may save time if I tell you at once, Mrs. Eustace, that the general
+manager of the bank has put me in possession of all information
+regarding your husband--you will not improve the situation by denying
+what I know you thoroughly understand."
+
+Mrs. Eustace looked up and met a glance which gave her the uncomfortable
+sensation of being looked through and through. She lowered her eyes more
+quickly than she had raised them, paled and then flushed blood-red.
+
+"Your husband did not escape through the kitchen," Durham said in his
+even tone of voice.
+
+"I have already said so," Mrs. Eustace replied, scarcely above a
+whisper.
+
+"He left this room by the window."
+
+The blood left her cheeks as she started. Harding saw her hands clasp
+tightly.
+
+"And you secured the window on the inside after he had gone."
+
+"No!"
+
+The monosyllable escaped her lips like the yap of a dog at bay.
+
+"You secured the window on the inside after he had gone," Durham
+repeated in cold, unruffled tones.
+
+Mrs. Eustace sprang to her feet and faced him.
+
+"It's a lie," she cried. "The room was empty when I came to it."
+
+"The room was empty, quite so. And the window was open. You closed and
+secured it."
+
+"I tell you I did not."
+
+"You have already said that you only stood at the kitchen door until you
+went to the office to ask whether your husband was there. Now you say
+the room was empty when you came to it. Which statement do you expect me
+to believe?"
+
+"I don't care what you believe," she cried. "You have no right to ask me
+these questions. I will not answer you. Mr. Harding, I appeal to you. If
+you have no regard for the honour of an absent friend, at least you
+might protect the wife of your friend from insult."
+
+Durham's eyes never wavered as he watched her.
+
+"No insult is offered or intended, Mrs. Eustace," he said quietly. "Mr.
+Harding, in the interests of the bank, as well as in the interests of
+your husband, is desirous, as we all are, of knowing the truth. I will
+ask you one more question: Where were you when Mrs. Burke left the
+dining-room and crossed the passage to the front door?"
+
+Mrs. Eustace, with close-set lips, stood defiantly silent.
+
+"Will you answer that question?" Durham said.
+
+"No, I will not. I will tolerate this no longer."
+
+With a quick, angry gesture she turned to the door.
+
+Durham was on his feet and in front of her before she could take two
+steps.
+
+"Until I have seen your servant, Mrs. Eustace, you will remain here," he
+said. "Will you kindly come with me, Mr. Harding?"
+
+He held the door open while Harding passed out, following him without
+another word.
+
+But there was little to be ascertained from Bessie more than she had
+already told. She heard the door slam and her mistress go to the kitchen
+door, but whether she went on to the dining-room or not, Bessie "didn't
+notice."
+
+"Could you see out of the window at the time?" Durham asked.
+
+"No, sir, I was in the scullery washing up," the girl replied.
+
+Mrs. Eustace, much to Harding's surprise, was still in the dining-room
+on their return. The papers Durham had placed on the table were
+untouched.
+
+"I am sorry to have had to detain you, Mrs. Eustace. For the present I
+have nothing further to ask you. These papers you had better take--I
+have no doubt they were left for you."
+
+"What do you mean--left for me?" she exclaimed.
+
+"A woman of your quick intelligence, Mrs. Eustace, scarcely needs to be
+told," he answered, adding, as he turned to Harding, "I would like a few
+moments with you in the office."
+
+In the little ante-room that Eustace had used as his private office,
+Durham turned the searchlight of his questions upon Harding.
+
+"Have you known Mr. Eustace for very long?"
+
+"I have only known him personally since I came to this branch a few
+weeks ago."
+
+"Did you apply to be sent here?"
+
+"No. I knew nothing about it until I received instructions to come."
+
+"Did you know Mrs. Eustace before you came here?"
+
+"Not as Mrs. Eustace."
+
+"You knew her before she was married?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Am I right in saying that you knew her very well?"
+
+"Yes, I did know her very well."
+
+"Don't think I am attempting to pry into your private affairs, Mr.
+Harding. In a case of this kind, the clues that lead to the unravelling
+of the mystery often lie on the surface in some trifling circumstance
+that seemingly has nothing whatever to do with the main question. You
+have already realised, I take it, that we are concerned with something
+quite distinct from the ordinary class of crime. Perhaps you have not
+had sufficient experience with the criminal class to recognise what was
+apparent to me from the beginning, that in this matter we are following
+the work of one who is a master of his craft."
+
+"So far as that goes, I am absolutely dazed," Harding exclaimed. "The
+more I hear, the more hopelessly confused I grow."
+
+"I am not surprised. You are following the work of someone who is, I am
+quite satisfied, no ordinary criminal, but one of the most astute,
+clever and unscrupulous individuals who ever adopted dishonesty as a
+profession. If I ask you questions which appear to you to be irrelevant
+and possibly impertinent, will you give me credit for being actuated
+only by my sense of duty, and answer those questions as fully and as
+accurately as you can?"
+
+"Certainly," Harding replied.
+
+"Thank you. Now, will you tell me this--Were you ever engaged to Mrs.
+Eustace before she married her present husband?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did she break it off, or did you?"
+
+"She--she married."
+
+"She married Eustace, while she was practically engaged to you?"
+
+"While she was actually engaged to me."
+
+"Then he must have known of your existence?"
+
+"I assume so, but--well, nothing was ever said about it between us. I
+will tell you exactly what happened. The letters I had written to her,
+the presents I had given her, and her engagement ring, were returned to
+me in a packet through the post with a piece of wedding-cake. Until I
+came here and met her, I did not know to whom she was married. Whether
+Eustace knew we had once been engaged I do not know. I never referred to
+it."
+
+"You never knew that, in applying for an assistant, he named you
+personally to the general manager of the bank and gave as a reason a
+long-standing friendship?"
+
+The look of astonishment which showed on Harding's face was sufficient
+answer.
+
+"Yet it is what happened--I have the information from your general
+manager."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+MRS. BURKE'S PRESENTIMENT
+
+
+Waroona Downs was fifteen miles from Waroona township by the road, and
+ten as the crow flies, the intrusion of a rocky and precipitous range
+making it impossible to take the shorter and more direct route. One had
+perforce to use the road, and the road turned and twisted where the
+level plains were broken by the range, passing, at one stage, through a
+narrow gorge hemmed in by steep, rock-strewn heights, on which a growth
+of stunted gums flourished sufficiently to hide the jagged boulders from
+the road below.
+
+Half-way through the gorge a stream, having its source in a series of
+springs hidden among the tumbled rocks, swept across the track in a
+shallow ford. The road dipped to it on both sides, the constant flow of
+water having stripped away the soil and left a barrier of naked rock
+which dammed back the stream to form a wide pool sheltered among the
+hills and fringed by a more luxurious growth of vegetation than clothed
+the heights above.
+
+The last gleam of the setting sun shed a ruddy tinge on the topmost
+branches of the trees as Durham reached where the road dipped to the
+stream. The subdued light in the pass made the distances elusive and
+turned the shadows into subtle mysteries of purpling greys. The air was
+full of the scent from the thickly growing vegetation, but, save for the
+rippling swish of the water trickling across the track, the silence was
+unbroken.
+
+Durham reined in his horse and sat loosely in his saddle as his glance
+swept over the tangled masses of undergrowth, the tumbled boulders
+peeping here and there from amid the shadows, the precipitous sides of
+the pass, and the broken ruggedness of the ground beyond. But it was not
+an appreciation of the picturesque, nor a recognition of the poetry in
+landscape which held him. He saw in the place only such a spot as the
+men concerned in the robbery of the bank would select for hiding their
+booty. Within that maze of rock and tree and mountain, how many nooks
+there must be to serve the purpose.
+
+Had he been occupied only with the matter of the robbery, he would have
+started there and then to satisfy himself whether his surmise was
+correct, and whether the missing thousands were not lying perhaps a few
+yards away, hidden among the undergrowth and boulders. But there was
+more than the robbery in his mind; it was not alone to make inquiries on
+the subject that he had ridden away on a journey Brennan could have
+accomplished equally well. There was a much more personal note in the
+affair.
+
+Durham was in love, and with a woman he had only met once, and of whom
+he knew nothing more than her name.
+
+Travelling one day by coach, he had, for a fellow-passenger, a woman. A
+dozen signs showed him that she was a new arrival in the country, unused
+to colonial ways, unversed in colonial methods. It was natural for him,
+at such places as they stopped for meals, to extend to her a share of
+the attention his official position secured for him. It was also natural
+for him to drift into conversation with her.
+
+The companion of his coaching experience was named Burke--Nora
+Burke--she had told him. Nora Burke was one of the victims of the bank
+robbery, and, apparently, the last person who had had anything to say to
+the vanished bank manager. It was more to ascertain whether the heroine
+of the coach journey were the same as the owner of Waroona Downs, than
+to learn what Eustace had or had not said, that Durham determined to
+ride out to the station.
+
+Even as his glance wandered over the picturesque scene before him, he
+was impatient to press on--five miles had yet to be covered before he
+reached Waroona Downs. He pulled the bridle with a jerk and rode
+steadily until he was clear of the range. Then he put his horse at a
+gallop and kept the pace till he saw the gleam of a light from the
+window of a house set back from the road. In the dusk he could not make
+out all the detail of the place, but Brennan told him the homestead was
+the first house he would come to after clearing the range.
+
+He swung on to the side track leading to the house. As he came up to it
+he saw the figure of a woman silhouetted against the light.
+
+"Is this Mrs. Burke's?" he called out.
+
+"And if it is, what might you want?"
+
+His heart leaped as he heard the answer--despite the sharp ring, sharp
+almost to harshness, he recognised the voice. It was that of the
+companion of his coach journey.
+
+A low verandah, about three feet from the ground, ran along the front of
+the house. It was on the verandah the woman stood. Durham sprang from
+the saddle, slipped his bridle over a post, and stepped up the short
+flight of stairs.
+
+The woman had drawn back into the shadow beyond the window. As he
+advanced, the light from the lamp within fell upon him, revealing to her
+the uniform he wore.
+
+With a soft, melodious laugh she came forward.
+
+"Why didn't you say you were a trooper?" she said. "I thought----"
+
+"I am Sub-Inspector Durham," he said quickly.
+
+"Oh, indeed," she replied.
+
+She met his glance without a suggestion of recognition in her own.
+
+"I have ridden out to ask you one or two questions in regard to the
+robbery at the bank, of which I understand you have heard," he said.
+
+"Ask me questions? And pray what have I to do with the robbery, save
+that I am an unfortunate victim of the dishonesty of men you and the
+rest of the police ought to be chasing at this very moment? Ask me
+questions? It's me who has need to ask them of you. Where are my stolen
+papers? Where----"
+
+"If you will give me your assistance by answering the few questions I
+wish to ask you, I have no doubt that your papers, and all the rest of
+the stolen property, will very soon be recovered," Durham said. "I
+understand you saw Mr. Eustace this forenoon. Will you tell me----"
+
+"Ask Mr. Eustace himself," she retorted. "He can tell you what I said."
+
+She stood in front of him, with her hands hanging down hidden in the
+folds of her dress.
+
+"I will not detain you long. I have been travelling since early to-day
+and have to ride back to the township to-night."
+
+"Travelling all day? Sure you must be tired!" she exclaimed. "Come
+inside and rest--this affair has so upset me I'm forgetting that Irish
+hospitality ought to be the first rule for Irish folk wherever they may
+happen to be. Come in, come in."
+
+She led the way into the room where the lamp was burning. As she stepped
+in through the long open window Durham saw she was carrying a heavy
+revolver in the half-hidden hand.
+
+"You were evidently prepared for emergencies," he said.
+
+She laughed as she laid the weapon on the table.
+
+"After what happened to-day, Mr. Durham, I'm all nerves. When I heard
+you riding to the house I was frightened lest it should be some more of
+the scoundrels coming to see what else they could rob from me. You see,
+I'm all alone here except for poor old Patsy Malone--he's just a poor
+half-witted fool who was with my husband and my husband's father before
+him, and he thinks, poor old creature, that wherever I go he has to go
+too. I had to bring him out here with me to save the scandal he would
+have made. Sure, he's harmless enough anywhere, but what could he do if
+some of those thieving scoundrels rode up here and robbed me of the last
+few papers and things those bank rascals have not yet had the chance of
+stealing? But sit down, Mr. Durham, sit down. I'll tell the old fool to
+get you some tea--a cup won't harm you after your long ride. And maybe
+you'll take just a bit of something? You'll be hungry."
+
+She was out of the room before Durham could answer, but he heard her
+calling for her ancient retainer and giving him instructions with the
+same volubility that she had shown when speaking to him.
+
+"It won't be a minute, Mr. Durham. Luckily the fire was still in, for
+Patsy was only finished washing the dishes scarcely five minutes ago.
+And what is the news from the township? Have they caught the robbers
+yet? Or do you think they have very far to look for them if they really
+want the man who did it? Now there's a foolish thing for me to say! I
+forgot. Of course, it's yourself that has come up to catch him. You'll
+forgive me, Mr. Durham, but I can assure you I never had so great a
+shock to my nerves as I had to-day. What's to become of me now that all
+those documents are gone? You see, when I came away my solicitor in
+Dublin--you see, he was my husband's solicitor and his father's
+solicitor before him, so, as you may judge, he is an old man, though
+not so old as old Patsy out there--but, as I was saying, he said----"
+
+She commenced speaking as she entered the room, continued as she walked
+to the table and sat down, and appeared to Durham as though she were
+going on indefinitely.
+
+"Will you pardon me one moment," he said. "I left my horse at----"
+
+"Of course, of course," she cried, starting up. "Sure the poor beast
+will be tired, too, and hungry. Wait, wait, Mr. Durham, I'll send old
+Patsy----"
+
+"Oh, no, don't trouble. I'll just take the saddle off and turn him into
+the yard. It's Brennan's horse and had a feed before we started."
+
+He was out on the verandah before she could leave the room.
+
+When he returned, Mrs. Burke was watching a bent and decrepit-looking
+old man laying the cloth. He gave a furtive glance at Durham as he
+entered the room.
+
+"Go on with your work, Patsy, go on, and don't dawdle. Don't I tell you
+Mr. Durham is both tired and hungry? Never mind looking at folk. Go on
+now."
+
+Patsy mumbled an inaudible reply as he stooped over the table.
+
+"You must bear with him, Mr. Durham," she said as soon as the old man
+had left the room. "He's been so long with the Burke family he feels
+he's entitled to know everyone who comes into the place. You see what a
+fragile old creature he is--and he's all I've got in the place if some
+of those scoundrels come and attack us."
+
+She jumped out of her seat and paced from one end of the room to the
+other.
+
+"Sure I was a fool," she exclaimed. "I ought to have asked Brennan to
+come out. He's half Irish, leastways he's Irish born in Australia, and
+he'd have understood."
+
+"I don't think you need be afraid, Mrs. Burke," Durham said quietly.
+"You're not likely to be troubled."
+
+"Oh, you don't know. You're a great strong man and able to fight a dozen
+maybe. But a lonely woman--haven't they got my papers, and won't they
+think that there's a lot more in the house and money too, maybe, and
+jewels? And what is there to keep them from robbing the place and
+burning it down over our heads, with only that poor old fool out there
+and a poor weak woman like myself to face?"
+
+He looked at her as she paced to and fro, her handsome figure moving
+with the grace of a Delilah and her wonderful eyes flashing a greater
+eloquence than her tongue, as her glance from time to time caught his.
+
+"You need not be afraid," he repeated. "Those responsible for the
+robbery of the bank will not be anxious to appear anywhere in public for
+some time."
+
+She stood in the centre of the room where the full glare of the lamp
+fell upon her.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," she said, "I don't know. I would not trust them.
+Besides----"
+
+"Besides what?"
+
+"Well, I was thinking that nobody knows who they are for certain, and
+what difference would it make to them, or to any of us, if they rode
+down the main street of Waroona under the very noses of yourself and all
+the troopers in Australia?"
+
+"That is scarcely likely, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"I don't know," she repeated. "You don't know who they are, or you would
+have them inside the walls of the lock-up. Now tell me, have you any
+idea?"
+
+"I cannot tell you that, Mrs. Burke. What I can tell you is to put out
+of your mind entirely any fear that they will pay you a visit."
+
+She shook her head and resumed her walk to and fro.
+
+"Suppose they come?" she exclaimed, halting at the table opposite to
+him. "Suppose they come at dead of night? I might be murdered in my bed
+while I was asleep and only know it when I woke up to find myself
+killed."
+
+Durham laughed.
+
+"It's true, and you know it, Mr. Durham. Sure I never was so shaken and
+nervous as I am to-night! Could you send Brennan out when you return to
+the township?"
+
+"I am afraid that is impossible," he said.
+
+"But why? Sure the fellow has nothing to do but sleep, and he may as
+well sleep here as in his own quarters."
+
+"He is on duty to-night."
+
+"On duty? Now that the bank's robbed, I suppose he's guarding it? The
+horse is stolen, so you lock the door of the empty stable, Mr. Durham;
+but where there's a chance of another horse being stolen you let it look
+after itself as best it may. And that's what you call doing your duty
+and earning the money we poor unfortunate taxpayers have to provide for
+you!"
+
+"I am afraid I cannot discuss that matter with you, Mrs. Burke," he said
+coldly.
+
+"No!" she retorted hotly. "No, you can't. All you can do is to put the
+only constable in the place to guard an empty bank----"
+
+"There is a reason why Brennan should remain in the township to-night.
+It is therefore quite impossible for him to come out here--as well as
+being unnecessary."
+
+She flounced round and resumed her rapid striding until old Patsy
+appeared with the tea.
+
+"Make haste, now, Patsy, make haste!" she exclaimed. "Sure you are the
+slowest old fool ever set on the earth to delay and keep people
+waiting."
+
+The old man, mumbling to himself, set the meal and left the room.
+
+"Now, Mr. Durham, just make yourself at home with such scant hospitality
+as I can show you. If it was in Ireland, sure I'd give you a meal worth
+the eating, but here, with me not knowing whether I'm to own this place
+or not, and without a soul about it save useless old Patsy to do a
+hand's turn, you'll understand it's only a poor pot-luck sort of spread
+at the best I can offer. But such as it is, it is offered with a free
+heart, though you are going to leave me to be murdered by the scoundrels
+whenever they like to come."
+
+"You will laugh at your fears to-morrow," Durham said as he drew up to
+the table.
+
+"They are not fears, Mr. Durham. You don't know; you're not Irish, and
+so don't understand, but Brennan would. It's not fear. It's what we term
+presentiment. Not all the Irish have it, but only some of them. It's my
+misfortune to be one of them. I have it. Sure I was tortured the whole
+of last night, what with anxiety and sleeplessness and worry, and all
+through that wretched bank affair. It was presentiment. I tried to laugh
+myself out of it, but as soon as I got into the township this very
+morning, what did I hear? Of course, you know. Well, now I have just the
+same feeling that to-night there's to be more dirty work by those
+thieving scoundrels, and it's here they're coming this time, here--and
+I'm to be left to their mercy, just one poor weak, defenceless woman and
+an old half-witted fool of a man. It makes me just----"
+
+She left her sentence uncompleted as she turned away, with a break in
+her voice, and stood by the open window leading out on to the verandah.
+As Durham glanced at her he saw her shoulders heave and her hands
+convulsively clasp.
+
+Through the chill of her forgetfulness the love impulse surged.
+
+"If you are really so distressed about the matter," he said quickly, "if
+you really fear you will be attacked to-night, I will stay here till the
+morning."
+
+With a magnificent gesture she faced round from the window and came
+swiftly towards him, her eyes sparkling, her lips wreathed in a happy
+smile.
+
+"Oh, what a weight of care you have taken from my mind!" she cried. "I
+can rest now in peace and comfort without thinking that every moment may
+be my last on earth."
+
+"But if they come they may kill me. What then?" Durham asked, with a
+smile which had more than amusement in it.
+
+She flashed her brilliant glance at him, raising her eyes quickly to his
+and drooping them slowly behind the shelter of the dark, heavy lashes.
+
+"No," she said softly. "You are too brave a man--they will not dare to
+come while you are here."
+
+"And so your presentiment passes into thin air?" he said.
+
+"It's relieved," she said. "Maybe I'm too timid--that affair has upset
+me so much. Now tell me, do you really think you know who the thieves
+are?"
+
+She sat down at the table opposite to him and leaned her chin on her
+hands, her loose sleeves falling away from her arms and revealing, to
+the best advantage, their rounded whiteness. Into her eyes there came
+the flicker of a challenge, the sparkle of mischief which gave a new
+character to her face, a different expression to all he had hitherto
+seen. There was flippant raillery in her voice as she repeated her
+question.
+
+"Do you really think you will find out who the thieves are?" she
+exclaimed.
+
+"One I already know," he replied, fixing his eyes on her as his square
+jaws set firm in his effort to refrain from allowing his features to
+relax into the smile which was hovering so near.
+
+For a moment the lines round her eyes hardened, and the sparkle became a
+flash before it melted again as a rippling laugh came from her lips.
+
+"How terribly stern you look!" she cried in a mocking voice. "Do you
+ever think of anything but your work, Mr. Durham?"
+
+"Not when I have anything at all difficult on hand," he replied.
+
+"Then this does puzzle you?"
+
+"It has its difficulties; but, for all that, it is a problem I shall
+solve."
+
+Again the rippling laugh rang through the room.
+
+"Why, of course! Was there ever a case the police had in hand where they
+did not have a clue at the very beginning?"
+
+"Several," he answered. "A clever, resourceful criminal, Mrs. Burke,
+always has the advantage. Where they fail ultimately is in becoming too
+sure of themselves and too forgetful of the network of snares laid to
+entrap them and always waiting to trip them."
+
+"I suppose that is so," she said slowly. "I suppose that is so. Poor
+things--I can't help pitying them, Mr. Durham. One never knows what lies
+behind their wickedness--what it was which first sent them rolling down
+the slope that ends--often--on the gallows."
+
+She shuddered as she spoke, averting her face from him.
+
+"This is a dismal subject," he exclaimed. "Let us change it. Will you
+answer the questions I want to ask you about the bank affair?"
+
+"Ask them. Oh! ask the wretched things and let me get it over. Sure I
+begin to hate the mention of it," she exclaimed as she shrugged her
+shoulders impatiently.
+
+Without apparently heeding her objection, he asked her to say whether
+anyone was in the passage as she passed from the dining-room to the
+entrance of the bank.
+
+"Of course there was. Didn't I tell Brennan at once?" she said.
+
+"Who was it?"
+
+"His wife."
+
+"Brennan's?"
+
+"Brennan's! No! The bank manager's; she was just outside the
+door--listening, I'll be bound."
+
+"You are sure of that?"
+
+"Sure that she was listening? Well, isn't she a woman? What else would
+she be doing?"
+
+"That is all I want to ask you," he said quietly.
+
+She looked at him wonderingly.
+
+"All?" she asked. "You rode out from Waroona merely to ask me that bit
+of a question?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Well, then," she exclaimed, "if that's how you're going to catch the
+thieves it's good-bye to my papers."
+
+The eyes which met his told of anger and indignation.
+
+"You expected a rigid cross-examination?" he asked, with a smile.
+
+"I expected questions which would have some bearing on the affair," she
+retorted.
+
+"Your experience in this sort of thing is somewhat limited, Mrs. Burke.
+A tangled skein is unravelled by following a mere thread, not by tearing
+at the entire mass. I have hold of a thread, and I am following it."
+
+"And where will it lead you?"
+
+"Where? It does not matter where so long as the tangle is made
+straight."
+
+"While my papers and my----"
+
+"You need not be uneasy," he interrupted. "They are just as safe as
+though you held them in your hand."
+
+"Safe for those who stole them," she retorted, with a short, satirical
+laugh.
+
+"Safe for you," he answered. "You have not been long enough in the
+country to realise how complete a system of detection we have here. I
+have never felt more certain of securing both the culprits and the
+stolen property than I am in this case."
+
+Again she gave a short, satirical laugh.
+
+"Oh, yes," she said. "Of course. You know exactly where the thieves are
+and where they have hidden what was taken and also where they are
+hiding. You can put your hands on them whenever you like. One does not
+need to come to Australia to hear that sort of romance, Mr. Durham; I
+hoped rather that one would not hear it in Australia, but you police are
+as capable at blundering and bungling and bluffing here as elsewhere."
+
+"I am neither bungling nor bluffing," he answered quietly.
+
+"You are doing both," she replied warmly. "What are you doing here now?
+Why have you come bothering me with ridiculous questions? What can I
+tell you more than the bank people themselves? Or is it that you think I
+am the thief? Why don't you say at once you suspect me--old Patsy and
+myself? Sure it would be in keeping with the rest of it--wasting your
+time and mine by coming out to ask who was in the passage when I left
+the dining-room! What has that to do with my loss? Do you think I care
+whether Mrs. Eustace heard what I told her husband? I'd say it to her
+face if she likes, just as I said it to his. I told him he ought to be
+arrested, and I say so to you. I'd arrest him and his wife and his
+assistant and his servant--everyone in the place if I had my way."
+
+He was watching the light flashing in her eyes, watching and admiring.
+The full rich tones of her voice vibrated with the heat of her words,
+her bosom rose and fell as in her indignation wave after wave of
+expression swept across her face, each one intensifying the charm she
+had for him.
+
+"I suppose you include me in your list of suspects," she blurted out as
+he did not speak. "Why don't you say so at once? Your questions
+certainly suggest it."
+
+"Do they?" he asked, with a smile which irritated her.
+
+"Yes, they do. What else do they suggest? It would be quite in keeping
+with the rest of the business--you riding out here to ask me pointless
+questions while the people most likely to have been concerned in the
+robbery are left alone. They are known, I suppose you will say, where I
+am a stranger, someone you have never seen before----"
+
+"You are wrong," he interrupted, still smiling; "I have seen you
+before."
+
+Her eyes concentrated on his with keen intensity.
+
+"When? Where?" she asked sharply.
+
+"We were fellow-passengers by a coach four or five months back. You have
+forgotten me, but I"--now that the personal note had been struck, the
+note he wished so much to sound and yet shrank from, he was almost
+carried away by it; by an effort he checked himself, and instead of
+telling her all that the meeting had meant for him, he added, "I rarely
+forget a face when I have once seen it."
+
+She flashed a swift glance at him, reading in his eyes, in his face, in
+his attitude, the confirmation of what she knew from the tone of his
+voice.
+
+"But you--you do not--remember me," he said slowly as she did not
+reply. He saw the glance, saw the fleeting questioning light in her
+eyes, and with the fatuity bred of love-blindness, misread it.
+
+"I do remember--distinctly," she answered softly. "I recognised you as
+you came on to the verandah. I thought it was you who had forgotten--or
+did not wish to remember."
+
+As she spoke the last words softly, demurely, she raised her eyes to his
+and looked steadily at him with no sign on her face of her recent
+indignation.
+
+"I not wish to remember? I not wish to remember you?" he exclaimed in a
+ringing tone. "Why--it was because I have never ceased to remember that
+I came here to-night. Your name was mentioned at Waroona--it was the
+only clue you gave me when we parted, the only clue I had to follow when
+I tried to find you, tried to trace you every day since then. I have
+never ceased to seek for you, never ceased to think of you, nor to
+remember the day I met you. Had you not been here to-night, had I found
+it was someone else with a similar name, I should not have forgotten
+you--I shall never do that--never."
+
+She sat back in her chair, her eyes downcast, a slight frown puckering
+her brows. He saw the frown as she spoke and it checked his words, but
+he continued to watch her steadily, noting the graceful, yet seemingly
+unstudied way in which the wavy mass of her luxuriant hair was coiled on
+her head, the clear whiteness of her skin, the heavy fringe of her
+drooping lashes. Even as he watched she raised her eyes to his.
+
+For one brief moment she allowed them to rest, filled with an
+earnestness and depth of softness that made his pulses leap again.
+
+Impulsively he stretched out his hand to her across the table.
+
+She lowered her glance, and a faint smile flickered round her lips.
+
+"I must away," she said softly, as she arose. "You will need a good
+night's rest after your long and wearying ride."
+
+He pushed away his chair, as he started abruptly to his feet. The warmth
+of his impulse went cold.
+
+"I shall start with the dawn or before it," he said, keeping his eyes
+averted from the glamour of her face. "I have a riding-cloak. I will
+take this hammock-chair on to the verandah. Don't let me disturb you."
+
+"But you cannot go in the morning without a bite," she replied.
+
+"I shall require nothing," he said brusquely. "I shall be away before
+you are awake. I am merely staying to set your mind at rest on the
+question of the house being visited and robbed. Don't let me disturb
+you--or detain you."
+
+She bent her head slowly and gracefully.
+
+"As you will," she replied in a gentle voice. "Good night, Mr. Durham."
+
+Without waiting for a reply she turned and went from the room, closing
+the door quietly after her.
+
+He stood where she had left him, staring fixedly at the closed door.
+
+"I was a fool to come, a greater fool to speak," he muttered savagely.
+"What satisfaction is there in knowing who she is, when----"
+
+He swung round petulantly, diving his hand into his pocket for a pipe.
+When it was filled and lighted, he dragged his chair out on to the
+verandah, lowered the lamp flame to a glimmer, pushed-to the window, and
+lay back in the chair, blowing furious clouds of smoke out upon the
+night and staring, with unseeing eyes, into the dark.
+
+But always before him there floated the vision of the speaking grey-blue
+eyes looking at him from the shelter of their dark-fringed lashes;
+always in his brain he heard the gentle melody of her voice as she had
+last spoken to him, and always there came to taunt and goad him the
+jarring memory of the half-mocking way in which she had pushed back upon
+himself the frank revelation he had made. But though it jarred, it had
+no power to lessen the fascination she exercised over him. Despite her
+rebuff, despite the seeming hopelessness of his infatuation, it held
+him. The more he tried to force it back, the stronger it grew; the
+greater, the more beautiful and more lovable did Mrs. Burke appear to
+be.
+
+The jarring note passed from his memory. Under the soothing quiet of the
+night and the stillness of the bush, looming dark and mysterious against
+the sky, scarcely less sombre with only the light of the stars to
+illumine it, his fancy was filled with the image he had carried in his
+mind for so many months. The weariness of an arduous day added its
+softening influence, and he drifted out upon the sea of dreams and
+thence into a deep slumber, while yet his pipe was unfinished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE FACE AT THE WINDOW
+
+
+While Harding sat talking to Brennan in the office, Bessie came to him
+with a note.
+
+"Mrs. Eustace asked me to give you this, sir," the girl said, as she
+handed it to him at the door.
+
+He tore open the envelope. A single sheet of paper was enclosed, on
+which was written, "For the sake of the bygone days, come to me."
+
+"Where is Mrs. Eustace?" he asked.
+
+"She's in her room, Mr. Harding, in her little sitting-room."
+
+It was one of the rooms where he had never been, a tiny chamber at the
+far end of the passage which she had made into a boudoir. Once he had
+seen into it through the open door, seen the daintiness with which it
+was decorated, a daintiness redolent of her as he had known her in the
+days when, for him, the world held no other woman.
+
+And she had chosen this as the place where they should meet!
+
+He knocked at the door, and heard her voice answer, bidding him to come
+in. She was sitting in a cane lounge-chair, listless, pale, and
+weary-eyed.
+
+As he entered she gave him one swift glance and then looked away.
+
+"Do you wish to see me, Mrs. Eustace?" he asked in a cold, formal voice.
+
+She did not reply at once, but sat with her head bowed and her hands
+loosely clasped in her lap.
+
+"If you will say what you wish to as quickly as you can, I shall be
+obliged," he said. "Brennan is in the office, and I have some matters to
+arrange with him."
+
+Her head was raised slowly, steadily, until her face was turned full
+towards him.
+
+"Will you please arrange them first?" she replied. "I want to say
+something which may take some time, and I--I would not inconvenience the
+bank."
+
+"I would rather hear what you have to say first, Mrs. Eustace."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"It is not a matter I can sum up in a few brief sentences," she replied.
+"If you cannot arrange things with Brennan and then come to me here,
+pray forget I mentioned anything about it."
+
+He moved uneasily as she averted her face and sat back in her chair.
+
+"I will see what I can do," he said shortly, and left the room.
+
+When he returned to the office he found Brennan talking to Bessie, who
+had brought him some supper and a couple of blankets with which to make
+a bed on the floor. Brennan nodded towards them as Bessie disappeared.
+
+"You know the idea of my being here at all, don't you?" he asked.
+
+"To tell you the truth, I don't," Harding replied.
+
+"The Sub-Inspector fancies someone may try to get back to learn what he
+can about our doings. You know who will most likely be asked, and so you
+see what it means when, as soon as I am here, and before I say a word
+about staying, these things are brought in. As if there is likely to be
+any sleep for me with the chance of the Sub-Inspector riding up any hour
+and catching me off duty. But it shows what's in the wind, doesn't it?"
+
+"Mrs. Eustace has asked me to discuss something with her," Harding said
+quietly. "She knows you are here to-night."
+
+"Oh, yes, Mr. Harding. She knows that, I've no doubt, but how did she or
+the girl know I was to be on duty here all the night? Don't you see?
+Supposing the Sub-Inspector is right, and a certain person we know wants
+to hear all that had happened since he went away, is he likely to come
+while I am here? It is not difficult to put a lighted lamp in a window,
+or to leave a blind pulled up or drawn down, is it? Anything of the kind
+is enough to give him a warning that the coast is clear or that there is
+danger ahead."
+
+"Oh, but we can easily stop that," Harding exclaimed. "We can easily
+prevent any signal being used."
+
+"If you know what the signal is," Brennan said. "But if you don't know,
+what are you to do?"
+
+"We shall have to watch."
+
+"That's it, we shall have to watch and take care nobody knows it,"
+Brennan replied in a low tone. "Have you a revolver?"
+
+"No. The one we kept in the bank was stolen from the drawer with the
+money."
+
+"Then slip this into your pocket," Brennan said, as he passed a bright
+nickel-plated "bull-dog" to Harding. "It's loaded in all the chambers
+and has a snap trigger; but it's no good for a long shot, though it
+makes as much noise as a service carbine. Don't hesitate to use it if
+anything happens--the noise will let me know, and there's no danger of
+hitting anyone with it unless you are a better shot than I am."
+
+"But where are you going?"
+
+Brennan jerked his head towards the door.
+
+"You see me off the premises and then tell the girl to fetch those
+blankets away again. After that, keep your eyes open and rest assured
+that as soon as you let off the barker I've given you, I shall not be
+far off. If there is any arrangement such as I have suggested, my going
+now will put them off their guard and our gentleman will get the signal
+to make his call as expected. Bringing in those blankets has given the
+game away--to me it shows just what is in the wind."
+
+When he had seen Brennan off the premises, Harding told Bessie to remove
+the blankets from the office, and returned to the little room.
+
+The door was ajar when he reached it, but there was no answer to his
+rap. He pushed it open and entered. Mrs. Eustace was not there.
+
+He turned, and came face to face with her as he stood in the doorway,
+though he had not heard her approach.
+
+"I did not hear you coming," he exclaimed.
+
+"No, I am wearing light shoes," she answered. "But won't you sit down?
+Have you made all your arrangements? I don't want to begin to say what I
+wish if you will have to go away before I have finished."
+
+"There is nothing to call me away now. Brennan has gone," he said, as he
+took the chair she indicated.
+
+"Before I begin, I must ask you to forgive me for mentioning the subject
+at all," she said slowly.
+
+She sat facing him and, up to that moment, had kept her eyes fixed on
+him; but as she ceased speaking she glanced aside until her head was
+bowed as it had been previously. He took advantage of the opportunity to
+give one quick look round. The chair in which he sat was so placed that
+the profile of the person occupying it was thrown by the light of the
+lamp directly upon the window-blind. The window faced the bush at the
+back of the bank.
+
+He moved his chair until his shadow fell on the wall, but then the lamp
+was between her and himself, and he could not watch her face.
+
+"I will take this chair," he said shortly, as he stepped to the one
+where she had been sitting when he first came to the room. From it he
+commanded not only a complete view of her, but also out of the window,
+for the blind, pulled down to the full extent, was slightly askew, and
+left a space between it and the window-pane. Through that space he could
+see across the yard to the fence running round the allotment, and beyond
+it to the dark line of the bush, rendered the darker at the moment by
+the soft sheen of the rising moon showing above it.
+
+A silence followed his movement, a silence during which she fidgeted
+uneasily and impatiently.
+
+"You do not answer," she said presently. "Shall I go on?"
+
+"I am waiting for you to do so," he replied.
+
+"You will forgive me for mentioning this subject?"
+
+"You have not mentioned any subject yet, Mrs. Eustace. I don't know what
+it is you wish to talk about."
+
+"I am afraid it is very distasteful to you. I am not surprised if it is,
+but--if you knew everything in connection with it, you might think
+differently. That is why I want to tell you."
+
+"Yes," he said indifferently, as she paused.
+
+"You do not want to speak of it," she said again. "But I must explain--I
+ought to have done so directly you came up here. I want to explain my
+conduct to you when I returned your----"
+
+"There is no need," he interrupted her. "That matter was at an end at
+once. There is no benefit to be gained by attempting to revive it."
+
+"I do not seek to revive it," she retorted, colouring at his words.
+"Surely if I wish to set straight what I know is not straight, I am not
+seeking to revive it? I wish to make one thing clear to you. You have
+not known Charlie as long as I have. Neither do you know him as well as
+I do. In the face of the accusations made by that police inspector
+anything may be said or suspected."
+
+He did not reply, and she went on.
+
+"You, hearing Charlie painted in the blackest colours, are not likely to
+raise any protest either to yourself or to anyone else. You will rather
+believe all ill of him and will most likely impute things to him he
+never did. One thing I do not want blamed on to him. Those letters and
+things which were sent back to you, I sent--I sent them entirely
+myself--Charlie did not send them--I sent them."
+
+She looked up at him quickly and then away as though she feared to meet
+his eyes.
+
+"Is that all you wished to tell me?" he asked.
+
+"I wished to tell you--all about it. I do not want you to blame Charlie.
+It was not his fault--nothing was his fault. I was a silly, flighty girl
+and fancied myself in love with everyone, whereas, really, I never cared
+at all, not until I met him. I don't want you to think he was to blame,
+because, if you do, you may want to be revenged on him, and now you have
+this opportunity you may take it. If you believe me and realise he had
+nothing whatever to do with my changing my mind, more than to come into
+my life, as he did, then you may sympathise with him in his present
+trouble and save him all you can."
+
+She did not attempt to look at him again as she spoke. He leaned back in
+his chair and turned his glance away from her, away to the space between
+the window and the blind. The first glint of the moon was stealing over
+the dark line of the bush and spreading over the open country between it
+and the line of fence. He could see, indistinctly, what seemed to be a
+heavy shadow moving slowly away from the trees.
+
+"It is a subject on which I would rather say nothing, Mrs. Eustace," he
+said presently, without removing his eyes from the window. "If you wish
+to speak about it, and you think it will ease your mind in any way, I
+will listen to all you wish to say. But do not expect me to reply to
+you. Do not expect me to express any opinion. I do not wish to appear
+harsh, but I must tell you that so far as I am concerned, the curtain
+was rung down upon the last act of my romance when my letters were
+returned--was rung down to remain down for ever."
+
+"I was afraid it would be a distasteful subject to you," she said; "but
+I must talk about it--I must. I have wanted to tell you for so long--I
+wanted to write to you and explain after the things were sent off,
+but--but it was so difficult. I felt how horrible it was of me, how
+horrible and how mean, never to say one word, but just throw everything
+in your face after--after all you had done for me. I deserve to suffer
+what I am going through now--I deserve everything. It was so
+contemptible of me to allow myself to be--to do what I did," she added
+quickly, and he felt rather than saw the way she glanced at him, for he
+was still staring out through the narrow opening between the window and
+the blind, away at the curious dark shadowy patch which was slowly
+moving further and further away from the line of thickly growing trees.
+
+"Won't you say one word? Not even that you forgive me?"
+
+Her voice was soft and gentle--the voice he remembered having heard so
+often in the bygone days--the days for whose sake she had appealed to
+him to come to her. He leaned forward in his chair, staring through the
+little slit of space between the blind and the window, intent upon
+distinguishing what it was he saw, resenting what he believed to be her
+efforts to beguile him.
+
+"Do you hate me so much?"
+
+Scarcely above a whisper the words reached him, a whisper with tears in
+it, and his heart shrank at the sound. He turned quickly towards her.
+
+She started impulsively to her feet and held out her hands to him.
+
+"Fred!" she exclaimed.
+
+He sat unmoved, for the shadow in the distance was growing more and more
+distinct, and the suspicion with which he regarded her drove away every
+particle of commiseration, and made him blind to the emotion welling up
+in her eyes, hostile to the pathos in her voice.
+
+She clasped her hands and let them drop limply in front of her as she
+sank into her chair again.
+
+"Oh, I am so lonely, so lonely," she murmured, "I don't know what to do.
+If you would only help me. I know I behaved horribly to you, vilely; but
+surely--surely you have some pity for me in my misfortune. I have no one
+to turn to--no one--no one. If you would only help me to understand--if
+you would only talk the matter over with me, it would be some relief."
+
+"There can be no benefit in talking over what has passed--the best thing
+is to forget it ever happened. That is what I have striven to do. If you
+returned my letters of your own free will, you were merely exercising a
+right to which you were perfectly entitled. You preferred Eustace to
+me, that is all."
+
+"All?" she echoed in a tone of amazement. "All? Is that what you
+thought? Is that what you think?"
+
+"What else can I think?" he retorted. "If you chose for yourself----"
+
+She sprang up and faced him with widely opened, gleaming eyes.
+
+"I did not," she cried. "I did not. There! Now you know. It was a----"
+
+She stopped abruptly, staring with eyes so full of entreaty that he
+looked away from her lest the emotion roused by her words, by her
+attitude and her eyes, carried him away at a moment when he required
+above all things complete self-control. To avoid her eyes he turned once
+more to the window--the moving shadow had grown clearer--it had split in
+twain, and he could distinctly see the forms of two horsemen riding
+swiftly towards the bank.
+
+The sight sent a chill through him; he recoiled from the woman whose
+pleading a moment before had thrilled him, recoiled from her as from
+some reptile. While she was appealing to him, pleading with him, the man
+she was expecting--whom she was even ready to vilify in order to throw
+dust in the eyes of the one who was a menace to him--was coming in
+response, probably, to a signal given by the clear, lamp-lit
+window-blind.
+
+He faced her where she stood, his eyes hard and cold, his mouth set
+stern.
+
+"I prefer not to hear anything further on the subject," he said in a
+measured tone. "It is a subject which does not now concern me."
+
+"Fred!"
+
+Despite his anger, despite the resentment the spectacle of those two
+riders had roused within him, the anguish in her voice cut him. Her
+eyes, fixed on his, were filled with intense sorrow, her face went
+ashen.
+
+"Oh, Fred! I----"
+
+She swayed as she stood, staggered, and sank into the chair between the
+lamp and the window, flinging her arms out over the table and burying
+her head upon them as she gave vent to a fit of sobbing. But as she
+moved, her shadow swept across the blind.
+
+He looked out again upon the moonlit scene--the horsemen had passed from
+the field of vision. He leaned forward to get a wider view, but there
+was no further sign of them--it was as though the shadow passing across
+the blind had been a danger signal on which they had acted immediately
+it was given.
+
+He wondered whether Brennan had seen them, whether he was also on the
+look out or was waiting hidden somewhere until he heard the warning
+shot. Harding was to fire in the event of anything happening. Ought he
+to fire now? Ought he to give the alarm or wait, lest the sound of the
+shot warned the two horsemen as well as alarmed Brennan?
+
+Leaning forward, with his attention riveted as he gazed through the
+narrow slit, he scarcely noticed that Mrs. Eustace had ceased to
+sob--the sudden appearance of her head, in shadow, upon the blind, made
+him start to his feet.
+
+"Put out that lamp," he exclaimed, but before she could move he was past
+her and had blown out the flame.
+
+"Fred! What is it?" she asked in an agitated whisper.
+
+"Silence," he said fiercely, as he crept back to the window and stooped
+to peer into the night.
+
+Along the fence which formed the boundary of the bank's ground, the
+fence Durham had pointed out as the one over which Eustace must have
+made his escape, he saw the figure of a man stealthily creeping.
+
+He thrust his hand into the pocket where he had slipped the revolver
+Brennan had given him.
+
+"Fred! Fred! What do you see?" he heard Mrs. Eustace whisper, and in the
+dim obscurity he saw her come to his side.
+
+"Quiet," he said harshly.
+
+Both her hands, trembling, touched his arm.
+
+"Tell me," she whispered; "I will be brave. Who is it you see?"
+
+The thin streak of moonlight falling through the narrow space between
+the blind and the window glinted on the bright barrel of the revolver,
+as he drew it from his pocket.
+
+She fell on her knees beside him, her arms flung round him, her voice in
+his ear.
+
+"Oh, Fred--no, not that! Is it Charlie? Oh, don't--don't----"
+
+He pushed her back roughly, his eyes straining to catch another glimpse
+of the creeping figure which had gone out of sight as he raised his
+revolver ready to fire.
+
+"Oh, no, no! Don't shoot him! Don't, Fred, don't! He----"
+
+Her words ended in a shriek, for even as she spoke there appeared
+outside the window, showing clear with the moonlight falling full upon
+it, the face of a yellow-bearded man. Harding wrested himself free from
+her clinging arms, leapt to the window, and tore the blind away.
+
+The form of the man, running swiftly, was disappearing amongst the
+bushes.
+
+Heedless of the glass in front of him, of the terrified woman at his
+knees, Harding raised his revolver and fired.
+
+As the shivered glass crashed to the ground, the report of other shots,
+fired in rapid succession, came from outside, and across the patch of
+grass, firing as he ran, Brennan dashed after the runaway.
+
+Harding scrambled through the broken window and ran after him.
+
+From behind the clustering shrubs which formed a screen in front of the
+chicken-run, there came the sound of horses galloping. Brennan stopped
+as he heard it. When Harding caught up to him, he was rapidly reloading
+his revolver.
+
+"He's slipped us," he cried. "The sub-inspector has my horse, and
+ordered me not to leave the bank till he came back. And there's that
+scoundrel riding away from under our noses!"
+
+"Did you see him?" Harding exclaimed.
+
+"See him? Wasn't I crawling on him round the house when she screamed
+out to him, and you fired? Another two minutes and I had him, yellow
+beard and all. Now we know who the man was who called at the bank to
+cash a cheque after hours. Anyhow, I'll have the woman safe before she
+can do any more mischief. I'll arrest her right away, and the girl as
+well. They're both in the game, if you ask me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+SNARED
+
+
+Durham awakened with a sense of oppression.
+
+For the moment he could not recall where he was. It seemed as though
+some sound had disturbed him, yet before he opened his eyes he realised
+the utter silence which reigned.
+
+It was the silence which brought back to him where he was. He had fallen
+asleep as he lay in the hammock chair on the verandah at Waroona Downs.
+
+In his half-awakened state he made an effort to sit up. But he could not
+move--arms, legs, body were held as though in paralysis. He could only
+open his eyes.
+
+Before him, in the faint light shed by the down-turned lamp, he saw the
+figure of a man, leaning slightly forward, clad in the attire of an
+ordinary bushman--an unbuttoned jacket hanging loosely open over a
+cotton shirt; tweed trousers secured at the waist by a narrow strap;
+travel-stained leggings and heavy boots with well-worn spurs dangling at
+the heels. The head was covered by a soft felt hat pulled forward,
+shading the upper part of the face, while the lower was hidden by a
+thick growth of yellow beard. The hair, where it showed under the hat,
+was fair almost to whiteness and close-cropped. Eyebrows and lashes of
+the same light hue gave a sinister expression to the eyes.
+
+Durham recognised him at once as the man Eustace had declared called at
+the bank after office hours.
+
+Mrs. Burke's presentiment had come true! The men from whom he had so
+lightly offered to protect her had stolen upon him while he slept.
+
+With a frantic plunge he strove to break free, at the same moment
+opening his mouth to shout a warning. But even as his lips parted, a
+hand came from behind him and placed a soft muffling substance over his
+mouth.
+
+"Tie it--tight," the man in front said in a low whisper.
+
+Durham felt the passing of a thong round and round his head. He tried to
+raise his legs to kick the floor of the verandah, but they were too
+securely fastened to the sides of the chair. He could move neither hand
+nor foot. He was as helpless as though he were dead.
+
+The man with the yellow beard bent nearer.
+
+"We'll see you again--later," he whispered. "That's a good horse you
+were riding--Government property, I think, it was. Well, it has changed
+owners."
+
+He moved noiselessly away and Durham was left alone. Bracing his
+muscles, he strained at the cords which bound him, trying to writhe
+himself free. The chair creaked. In a moment the man with the yellow
+beard was back.
+
+"If you wriggle for a year you won't get free," he said in a harsh
+whisper. "But I tell you what you will get; that's a crack on the head
+to keep you quiet. Do you hear? You lay still, or there'll be an ugly
+bump on your skull."
+
+He stepped out of sight, and Durham heard the window he had pulled-to
+quietly pushed open. A rage of mingled anger and jealousy swept over
+him. Regardless of the threat, he plunged and struggled till the veins
+in his head were bursting, and he smothered as the muffler over his
+mouth worked up and covered his nostrils.
+
+Suddenly a sound cut through the night which sent his blood cold.
+
+From within the house there came the wild, terrified shriek of a woman.
+A hoarse shout blended with it, and then the report of a revolver-shot
+echoed through the place.
+
+For a few minutes there was silence, deathly, nerve-destroying silence.
+Durham, trembling with mortification, strained his ears to catch some
+further sound.
+
+Two shots in quick succession rang out, followed by a rush of scuffling
+feet, and on the air there came the thud of galloping horses' hoofs.
+
+"They're off, Patsy! The rifle, quick! Quick! Oh, you old fool, be
+quick! They'll be too far!"
+
+Durham heard the words screamed in a high shrill voice. Thereafter he
+could only hear the hum of voices dimly.
+
+Presently they came clearer.
+
+"I tell you only two got away, three horses and two men. I saw them.
+The other's somewhere. Sure I hope I put a bullet through him, and I
+believed him when he said he was a police inspector. Oh, what a country
+to come to. To think that the dirty--oh, look out, Patsy! Look out, you
+old fool!"
+
+The noise of a shot rang through Durham's head as though a pistol had
+been fired close to his ear. He saw a splinter fly from the verandah
+post as the bullet glanced off.
+
+"I've hit him! I've hit him! See if he's dead, Patsy. Don't be
+frightened. I tell you I'll cover him if he moves."
+
+The light spread clear as the lamp was turned up, and Durham heard the
+slow-moving footsteps of the old man approaching.
+
+"Bedad! It's all tied up he is!"
+
+Quick footsteps came, and as Durham turned his eyes he saw, looking down
+at him, with her hair flying loose, her cheeks white, and her eyes wild
+with excitement, Nora Burke.
+
+"What has happened? What does it mean?" she said slowly. "Patsy, get a
+knife and--no, let me."
+
+She reached and caught hold of the cord tied round Durham's legs.
+
+"Get a knife, Patsy. It is too tight to untie."
+
+Obedient, the old man brought her the table-knife Durham had used at his
+supper, and with it she cut through some of the cords.
+
+"Can you move now? Oh, it's a gag they put on you!" she exclaimed, as
+she leaned over him and cut the thong which held the muffler so
+securely across his mouth.
+
+"Free my arm, and give me the knife," he said, as soon as he could
+speak. "I will cut quicker."
+
+She placed the knife in his hand when she had slipped the cord twined
+round his arm. He could scarcely close his fingers on it, so stiff had
+they become, and he fumbled clumsily before he had cut himself free.
+Then he rose to his feet and stood unsteadily.
+
+Patsy had vanished; Mrs. Burke watched him from the shadow at the side
+of the window.
+
+"You saw them?" he exclaimed. "It was you who fired?"
+
+Before she could answer his eye caught sight of something white lying by
+the chair. He stooped and picked it up. It was what had been used to
+muffle his cries, and he saw it was a handkerchief.
+
+Instinctively he opened it out, stepped into the full glare of the light
+and ran his eyes along the edge. At one corner a name, boldly written,
+showed clear.
+
+"Charles N. Eustace."
+
+He could not repress an exclamation as he read the name.
+
+"What is it?" she cried, as she came over to him.
+
+She gripped his arm as she also read the name.
+
+"Eustace!" she cried. "Eustace--then it was he who----"
+
+She stopped abruptly, staring at him.
+
+"Did you recognise him?" he asked.
+
+"It was dark--I only saw them against the sky. They had their backs to
+me as they rode off. I mean it was Eustace who robbed the bank."
+
+"When did you come to that conclusion?"
+
+"I said so at first--I told Brennan. Why did you not arrest him? I told
+Brennan to go in and arrest him when I left, before you arrived."
+
+"Brennan went to do so, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"Then--how could Eustace be here to-night if Brennan arrested him?"
+
+"Brennan did not arrest him. By the time he reached the dining-room at
+the bank it was empty. Eustace had disappeared. This handkerchief is the
+first token of him that has come to light since you saw him."
+
+"Disappeared?"
+
+Her eyes opened to their utmost as she uttered the word. It was as
+though she could speak nothing more, for she stood staring, her clasped
+hands pressed to her bosom, her dishevelled hair flowing in great masses
+and framing her face with its dark folds.
+
+"Disappeared--until to-night," he said. "This handkerchief completes the
+chain of circumstances which points to Eustace as the person mainly
+concerned in the robbery."
+
+"How sad, oh, how sad, for his poor wife," she exclaimed. "Why is it,
+Mr. Durham, that the woman always has to suffer while the man goes
+free?"
+
+"The man will not go free. There is a net spread for him he cannot
+possibly escape. Tell me, which way did they ride?"
+
+"You are not going after them? You must not do that--you must not face
+that risk."
+
+"Risk is the pastime of my life, Mrs. Burke. But in this there is no
+risk. I shall follow their tracks until I find where they are hiding."
+
+"No, no! You must not go. They will hear you coming; they will see you
+and then--think! You, who have only just escaped them! What mercy would
+they show?"
+
+"The mercy I would show them," he answered fiercely. "They have stolen
+the revolver from my belt. Will you lend me the one you have?"
+
+"It is the only one I have. What shall I do if they come back and I am
+without it?"
+
+"Then I must go without."
+
+He moved away, but before he had gone two steps she was at his side, her
+hand on his arm, her face turned appealingly to him.
+
+"No, you must not! Mr. Durham, I ask you. Don't go. You may be throwing
+your life away. They may come back. Don't leave me alone in the place.
+Don't, please don't. For my sake, for my sake, stay till it is light."
+
+Gently he took her hand in his and lifted it from his arm.
+
+"You who have been so brave to-night, would not have me show cowardice,"
+he said softly. "These scoundrels must not remain at large a moment
+longer than we can help. There is more now at stake than the bank's
+money--I shall not rest till they are captured, for only then shall I
+feel you are safe."
+
+"But you must not go now."
+
+Her disengaged hand was laid gently, caressingly, on his shoulders; her
+face, showing white amid the tumbled mass of her tresses, was close to
+his, so close he could feel the faint fanning of her breath and catch
+the subtle perfume from her hair. The fingers of the hand he held
+gripped his in a clinging, lingering clasp; the hand on his shoulder
+pressed firmer; she leaned against him.
+
+"You must not go--you must not--for my sake," she murmured.
+
+The head drooped till the tumbled tresses met the caressing hand; one
+pale cheek was so close to his he had but to bend his head to touch it
+with his lips. His arm slipped round her, drawing her soft, yielding
+form yet closer to him, and over him there swept a wave of emotion which
+in another moment had carried him away upon its crest, away from duty,
+away from the prosaic material world, away from everything but the woman
+he held.
+
+"You must not say that," he said hoarsely. "You must not. You are the
+last who should try to turn me from my duty."
+
+"Oh, but I cannot--I cannot let you go--it may be to your death. Wait
+till day comes," she answered. "There are horses in the paddock. Patsy
+can fetch you one. If you go now you will only wander aimlessly in the
+dark while they may turn upon you, if they do not get farther and
+farther away. Stay till the dawn."
+
+"It will not be dawn for many hours."
+
+"Why, what time do you think it is? It is nearly four."
+
+Nearly four! Then he had slept right through the night so soundly that
+on waking he thought he had only dozed.
+
+"You will not go? Tell me you will not go?" she whispered, and he felt
+her hands touch him lightly.
+
+He drew back, fearful lest her fascination again overmastered him.
+
+"Show me which way they went," he said brusquely, as he walked to the
+steps leading down from the verandah.
+
+As he reached them he turned. Mrs. Burke had drawn back into the shadow
+beyond the open window.
+
+"Will you show me which way they went?" he repeated.
+
+He saw her hide her face in her hands, and the sound of a choked sob
+came to him. In a moment he was at her side.
+
+She shrank to the wall as he approached, raising her head and shaking
+back the loose locks which streamed across her face.
+
+"Go!" she exclaimed. "Go! Leave me! What am I that you should care? Only
+a poor, weak, sad, and lonely woman. Forget----"
+
+"Do not say that," he answered quickly, his voice vibrating with
+passion. "You--you do not know--I would give my life----"
+
+"I will not give you cause to say I kept you from your duty, Mr.
+Durham," she went on. "Forget my weakness. I promise you it shall never
+occur again."
+
+She slipped past him and stood for a moment at the window, just long
+enough to flash one look of resentment at him before she passed into the
+room and extinguished the lamp.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE NOTE THAT FAILED
+
+
+When Durham, having walked in from Waroona Downs, arrived at the bank,
+he found the township in a state of excitement bordering on panic.
+
+The noise of the firing during the night had brought everyone who was
+awake at the time rushing to the scene. Men had mounted their horses and
+raced away in the direction the fugitives were supposed to have taken,
+returning hours afterwards with the information that no trace of them
+could be discovered, beyond the prints of their horses' hoofs, here and
+there, right up to the line of rocky rises which formed the commencement
+of the range.
+
+Durham brushed aside the volley of questions directed at him as to how
+it came about that he had returned on foot. Passing into the bank he
+asked Harding to come with him into the manager's office, and told
+Brennan to clear everyone else out of the building.
+
+As soon as he had heard Harding's account of what had happened, he
+produced the handkerchief bearing Eustace's name.
+
+"Can you identify that?" he asked. "It is marked, but I want to know if
+you can recognise it apart from the name it bears?"
+
+"It is like the handkerchiefs I use," Harding answered, as he pulled one
+out of his pocket. "Eustace and I ordered some to be sent up, and we
+divided them, taking half each."
+
+"Did you mark them?"
+
+"Mrs. Eustace did that for us. Is the name on this?"
+
+He turned it round until he saw the name.
+
+"Yes, that is one of Eustace's," he said.
+
+"What time do you think it was when you saw that man's face at the
+window?" Durham inquired.
+
+"Between half-past nine and ten--nearer ten probably."
+
+"Was the face familiar?"
+
+"It was, but I cannot recall where I have seen it before. It struck me
+as being a familiar face disguised. It was not Eustace's."
+
+"You feel sure of that?"
+
+"I'm quite sure. I wish you had been here to have seen it."
+
+"I did see it."
+
+"But you were at Waroona Downs."
+
+"So I was. It was there I saw it. That man and his companion stuck the
+house up. I was asleep on the verandah and they must have crept on me,
+for when I awakened I was bound hand and foot. The man you describe was
+standing in front of me. When I attempted to shout to warn Mrs. Burke, a
+handkerchief was pressed over my mouth and tied by someone who kept
+behind me. That is the handkerchief which was used. Who would you say
+tied it?"
+
+"I should suspect Eustace, of course; or do you think the man with the
+beard was Eustace?"
+
+Durham shook his head.
+
+"No," he said. "The description I have of Eustace does not agree at all
+with the build and general appearance of that man. If Eustace were there
+at the time he must have kept behind me. Is Mrs. Burke a woman who talks
+much?"
+
+"Talks? She does nothing else. She tells everyone everything."
+
+"Then it is no use my trying to keep this episode of the handkerchief
+quiet?"
+
+"Not if she knows anything about it. She will tell everyone about it
+directly she comes to the township."
+
+"Oh, she knows about it. She is a plucky woman. She drove them off,
+firing at them; then she discovered me on the verandah and nearly shot
+me into the bargain. When I was set free this handkerchief was on the
+verandah and she saw it as soon as I picked it up."
+
+"Then everyone in the township will hear about it," Harding said. "She
+is to come in this afternoon to meet Mr. Wallace."
+
+"When is he due?"
+
+"About noon he ought to be here."
+
+"Then I'll ride out and meet him," Durham said shortly. "Is there anyone
+in particular who was with the crowd last night to whom I can go for
+further information?"
+
+"Mr. Gale was one."
+
+"I'll see him," Durham said, and left the bank, finding Gale in the
+street discussing the latest raid with half a dozen other men of the
+town. He left them at once and came over to the sub-inspector.
+
+"Look here, it's no use wasting more time," he exclaimed warmly. "We all
+say there is only one thing to be done if those scoundrels are to be
+caught. We must scour the ranges. I'll volunteer and so will everyone
+else in the place. The only hope is to ride them down."
+
+"Quite useless," Durham replied curtly.
+
+"It's the only course to adopt," Gale retorted. "We're all bushmen here
+and know what's the proper thing to do. You can't apply town methods to
+bush-rangers, you know. You may be the smartest man in the force at
+catching city burglars and spielers, but you are out of your element in
+the bush. There's only one thing to be done--track them down."
+
+"How many are there?"
+
+"Well, two for certain--probably more."
+
+"Probably more--exactly. And most probably one or other of the remainder
+is in the town acting as a spy for the others. If that is so, what will
+happen when you set out in force? Everyone would volunteer, as you say,
+and one of the number would give warning of what was being done. What
+chance would there be then of making a capture? You tried last night.
+What was the result?"
+
+"We found their tracks."
+
+"Then why didn't you follow them?"
+
+"Because with the crowd riding all over the ground we lost them,
+and----"
+
+"Just so," Durham interrupted. "It is what would happen again if your
+suggestion were carried out. This is a one man's job, Mr. Gale. Directly
+I want assistance I will come to you, but in the meantime I must ask you
+to keep your fellow-townsmen from interfering."
+
+He went on to the police-station, leaving Gale to convey his refusal of
+assistance to the men who were keen on taking the matter into their own
+hands. The refusal was received with open resentment and the group moved
+towards the station to argue the matter out with the sub-inspector, but
+before they reached it Durham rode out of the yard and set his horse to
+a gallop along the road leading to the railway.
+
+"It's all right, boys, he's got a clue," one of the men exclaimed
+scornfully. "He's going to catch them at the junction!"
+
+"Give him a cheer for luck," another cried, and the ironical shout
+reached Durham as he galloped. But he paid no heed to it, riding on
+steadily till he was away from the town and some miles along the road
+when he saw, coming towards him, a pair-horse buggy accompanied by a
+couple of mounted troopers. As they came nearer he recognised Wallace in
+the buggy. The troopers drew to the side of the track as he reined in
+beside the vehicle.
+
+"Come back along the road a bit," he exclaimed, as he got off his horse
+and gave the bridle to one of the troopers.
+
+"Why are these troopers with you?" he asked when he and Wallace had
+walked out of hearing.
+
+"I have close on thirty thousand pounds in the buggy. I have had to
+bring with me not only sufficient funds to enable the bank to carry on
+its ordinary business, but a further twenty-five thousand in gold to
+carry through the purchase of Waroona Downs from Mr. Dudgeon."
+
+"Why is it necessary for all this gold to be used? I did not care to ask
+Mr. Harding, but if it is not a bank secret----"
+
+"Oh, it is no secret," Wallace exclaimed. "Mr. Dudgeon had a quarrel
+with the bank some time since, and, in addition to giving himself a
+great deal of unnecessary trouble, he delights in making everything we
+have to do with him as unpleasant and difficult as possible. Any
+payments we have to make to him have to be made in gold. He is legally
+entitled to demand it, and he avails himself of his right to the utmost.
+That is why I have had to push through with the amount so as to be able
+to complete Mrs. Burke's purchase to-day. As we were not anxious to lose
+another twenty-five thousand, we obtained an escort from head-quarters,
+but I fancy the men have to return to-night."
+
+"Eustace would know this second amount would have to be sent up?"
+
+"Of course he would."
+
+"And the presence of your escort would announce to him or his spies,
+assuming that he is concerned in the robbery, that you have it with
+you?"
+
+"Naturally; but the risk was more than the general manager would allow
+for me to travel with it unless I had police protection."
+
+"You expect to pay it out this afternoon?"
+
+"I anticipate Dudgeon will be at the bank clamouring for it, under
+threat of crying off the sale, by the time I get there. The first thing
+I shall most probably do is to pay it over."
+
+"So that it will soon be out of the bank, and the bank's interest in it
+will have ceased."
+
+"Exactly," Wallace replied. "Mr. Dudgeon, who refuses to act through the
+bank, will have the pleasure of providing his own strong-room for its
+safe keeping."
+
+"Eustace would know that too?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then you will have to send one or both of those troopers with Mr.
+Dudgeon; otherwise he will be robbed to-night. It would certainly be the
+last thing necessary to identify Eustace with the robbery at the bank,
+but there is already enough to prove that, to my mind. Your duty ceases
+when you have handed this sum over, but there mine begins."
+
+"I intend to suggest to Mr. Dudgeon the advisability of his having
+police protection while the gold is in his possession, in view of what
+has already occurred. But I am quite sure that the suggestion will be
+treated with contempt."
+
+"Tell me where Mr. Dudgeon lives."
+
+"He has another station on the opposite side of the township to Waroona
+Downs, about ten miles out. He wants to sell that, too, and I don't mind
+saying we all hope he will soon find a purchaser."
+
+"How many men has he there?"
+
+"Oh, he sold off all his stock from both places and discharged his hands
+some months ago. He might have a couple of men about the place, but not
+any more, I should say."
+
+"Well, try and persuade him to take the escort. If he will not, send the
+men out to the station to-night. I shall probably be there by the time
+they arrive, but you need not mention this to them. Give the impression,
+if you can, that I am on my way to Wyalla, and don't be surprised if I
+take you unawares any time between this and noon to-morrow."
+
+"I'm never surprised at anything you do, Durham," Wallace retorted
+grimly. "We're quite satisfied the money will be recovered if
+head-quarters leave you alone."
+
+"I hope so--I can't say more," Durham said.
+
+"But I can," Wallace continued. "It's in confidence, of course, but the
+directors have decided that in the event of your recovering this money
+they will present you with five thousand. I don't suppose that will make
+you work any harder, but it may interest you to know it."
+
+Durham rode at a slower pace when he had parted with Wallace than when
+he came out of the township. The news that a fifth of the missing money
+would be his when he recovered it gave him a far greater incentive than
+Wallace anticipated. With five thousand pounds behind him he knew his
+prospects of winning the woman who had fascinated him would be much
+greater than if he had only his official salary as a financial backing
+to his suit. Further, if he succeeded in recovering the gold he would
+also recover the stolen documents. He had little doubt but what he would
+be able to woo her successfully, were he able to return to her the
+papers which had been stolen and go to her with his freshly won laurels
+of victory.
+
+A mile down the road he turned his horse into the bush and rode straight
+for the range which rose between the township and Waroona Downs.
+Skirting the flanking spurs, he followed on until he caught sight of the
+tracks left by the horsemen who had ridden after the fugitives the night
+before. In their haste and lack of system, he saw how they had crossed
+and recrossed the marks left by the riders they were chasing. He walked
+his horse to and fro until he came upon the tracks of the two horses
+showing clear beyond the jumbled confusion of hoof-prints the amateur
+trackers had made.
+
+The two had ridden direct to the range. As he followed the track,
+bending down in his saddle to note the marks, he laughed aloud. The men
+were the veriest fools at bush-craft. There were instances by the dozen
+which revealed to him the fact that neither had had any experience in
+tracking, and so had failed to avail themselves of the chances the
+ground they had ridden over offered to render their track difficult to
+follow. Where the ground was soft, they had not swerved to avoid it, but
+had left the prints of their horses' hoofs showing so clearly that to
+the skilled bushman it was as an open book he could read as he rode.
+Where low-growing shrubs stood in their way they had crashed through,
+sometimes setting their horses to jump what should have been ridden
+round. Everywhere the same thing was manifest. The riders were not
+bushmen; they were in a great hurry; they were in country with which
+they were not acquainted, and were hastening towards some landmark that
+would bring them to a locality where they would be more at their ease.
+
+As he followed the track, he sat back in his saddle. There was no need
+to study the ground when he could see the hoof-prints showing right
+ahead. So it was that he saw what those other riders had failed to
+distinguish in the half light of the moon. There was a sudden dip in the
+surface, a shallow depression sloping down to a little stream. Riding,
+as they must have been riding, at a full gallop, it was a trap for an
+unsteady horse and one of the horses was unsteady, for it had propped at
+the brow of the slope, slipped, and come down on its knees, pitching its
+rider clear over its head.
+
+The spot where he fell was still distinguishable by the bent and broken
+herbage and his heels had scored the ground as he scrambled to his feet,
+caught his horse, and hastily remounted. He had been in a great hurry
+and so had his companion, for there was no break in the tracks of the
+second horse--the other man had ridden on without a moment's halt, had
+ridden past his fallen companion and left him to do the best he could
+for himself. All this was plain at one glance. Again Durham laughed
+aloud at the folly of the pair, as he reined in his horse and sprang
+from the saddle.
+
+In his fall the fugitive rider had dropped something. It lay white on
+the ground just beyond the mark he had made in falling. Durham picked it
+up--a closed, unaddressed envelope bearing the bank's impress on the
+flap.
+
+He tore it open. Inside was a sheet of paper with the bank's heading,
+but undated.
+
+     "No one saw me go, and I am safe now where they will never find me.
+     Stay there till you hear from me again. A friend will bring you
+     word. Ask no questions, but send your answer as directed. You must
+     do everything as arranged, or all is lost. Whatever you do, don't
+     leave till I send you word. I am safe till the storm blows
+     over.--C."
+
+As Durham read the words, written in pencil and obviously in haste, he
+was satisfied that his suspicion not only of Eustace, but of Mrs.
+Eustace, was correct. The man with the yellow beard whom he himself had
+seen, was possibly the "friend," through whom communication was to be
+maintained between husband and wife. He and Eustace had evidently ridden
+in during the evening with the intention of advising Mrs. Eustace of the
+successful flight of her husband. Hesitating to approach the bank, until
+he was certain the way was clear, Eustace had given the note to his
+companion to deliver. Harding's vision of the face at the window
+completed the picture. The man had crept up to the window of the room
+where it was probably arranged Mrs. Eustace was to wait. So long as any
+other person who might have been in the room occupied the chair Mrs.
+Eustace placed, the shadow on the blind would warn the visitor that the
+coast was not clear. It was due to the fact that Harding had noticed the
+shadow and had moved to another chair that the man had so nearly been
+captured.
+
+What had followed was equally clear to Durham's mind.
+
+Directly he found he was discovered the man had run to his horse and,
+together with his companion, had galloped off, too quickly to allow him
+either to explain how he had failed to deliver the message or to hand it
+back to Eustace. It was most probably he who had come down with his
+horse at the edge of the depression, by which time the letter would have
+passed completely from his mind and so he would not notice its loss.
+Under the circumstances it was very unlikely he would tell the truth to
+his companion, but would rather leave Eustace under the impression that
+the letter had been put where Mrs. Eustace would find it. Sooner or
+later, therefore, Eustace would make another attempt to communicate with
+his wife. If he were not captured otherwise there would be every hope of
+securing him by keeping a close watch upon her.
+
+With the letter in his pocket Durham remounted his horse and continued
+to follow the track. It led him into the broken country which formed the
+outlying spurs of the range, and continued along a narrow depression
+lying between two ridges. The trees grew closer together in the shelter
+of the little valley, and the track turned at right angles and continued
+up the side of one of the ridges.
+
+The surface became more rocky and Durham had to watch closely for the
+hoof-prints as he gradually ascended to the top. For a time the track
+ran along the summit and then turned down the other slope, following the
+course of what, in the rainy season, would be a small rivulet. This
+again turned where it met the bed of a larger stream and Durham set his
+horse at a canter as he saw, distinct as a road, the marks left by the
+runaways right along the bed of the stream.
+
+As he went he worked out the direction in which he was travelling; the
+stream he was following was evidently one which fed the watercourse
+crossing the road in the range. It turned and twisted in and out small
+flanking spurs, down the sides of which other streams had cut narrow
+scars, now as dry as the stream-bed along which he was riding, but
+which, in the time of the rains, would be roaring little torrents adding
+their quota to that great pool dammed back by the mountain road.
+
+Suddenly the creek took a sharp turn round a jutting bluff, and as he
+passed beyond it he reined in his horse. Scarce twenty yards in front
+was a sheet of water, its surface, without a ripple, reflecting the
+tree-clad slopes that encompassed it. In the sand of the stream-bed the
+track was so strong it might have been made only a few hours ago.
+
+He rode warily to the water's edge. The pool stretched on both sides
+away into the hills, but it was not that which made him rein in his
+horse and sit motionless.
+
+Along the margin of the pool there was a strip of sandy soil. It
+extended to the right and to the left of the creek-mouth. Upon it the
+marks both of wheels and hoof-prints showed.
+
+The tracks he had been following swung sharp to the right; the
+wheel-marks came from the left, crossed the creek-bed and continued to
+the right.
+
+His first impulse was to spur his horse along the track to the right,
+see where it led, and then return along it to the left, but the
+twenty-five thousand pounds to be paid to Dudgeon would be at the mercy
+of the marauders, if, as Wallace anticipated, the old man refused police
+protection.
+
+Great as the temptation was to learn where the track led and whence it
+came, Durham set his face against it.
+
+He had stumbled on a clue, but the following it up was not for that day.
+Later he would return and complete his discovery. For the present he
+must leave it.
+
+There was a long ride before him if he were to reach Dudgeon's homestead
+at Taloona by sunset. That Eustace was one of the two men concerned in
+the robbery of the bank he had now no doubt. The question he had to
+consider was who the other man was. At the back of his mind there was a
+lurking suspicion that the owner of Taloona might possess information
+on the subject if he could be induced or inveigled to reveal it.
+
+He glanced regretfully in the direction the tracks led. He would have
+preferred to follow them to the end, but after all he might get nearer
+the solution of the problem by a visit to Taloona.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+DUDGEON'S HOSPITALITY
+
+
+Within half an hour of Wallace's arrival at the bank Dudgeon drove up.
+
+He scrambled out of his rackety old buggy and stamped into the place,
+passing direct into the little room Eustace had used as a private
+office, where, by the chance of circumstances, he came face to face with
+Mrs. Burke.
+
+His keen, grey, hawk-like eyes flashed an envenomed look at her, and
+were met by a glance not one whit less steadfast. For a moment he stood,
+his shaggy white brows meeting in a scowl as he found himself confronted
+by one who even to his distorted vision possessed a charm of face and
+figure such as he had not seen since the days of Kitty Lambton.
+
+Something in the eyes which met his touched a chord of memory long
+suppressed. So Kitty had looked when he met her for the first time after
+her flight with O'Guire; so she had looked the last time he had seen her
+when she had pleaded for mercy to her dying parents and he had taunted
+her and mocked her till she turned and left him with curses as
+deep-voiced as any he himself could have uttered.
+
+"This is Mrs. Burke, the purchaser of Waroona Downs, Mr. Dudgeon," he
+heard, and faced round on the speaker, turning his back upon her.
+
+"Who are you?" he blurted out.
+
+"I am the officer in charge of the bank for the time being," Wallace
+replied suavely.
+
+"Where's Eustace? He's the only man I know in the matter."
+
+"He is not here at present, Mr. Dudgeon. But that need not concern you.
+I assume you have come to complete the sale of----"
+
+"I only know Eustace. I'm prepared to deal with him--I don't know you
+and don't want to."
+
+"Unfortunately Mr. Eustace cannot be present. But I am in his place. I
+arrived from the head office this morning with the gold you demand as
+payment for the sale of Waroona Downs. You may have noticed it as you
+came in--the bags are on the counter in charge of the police escort."
+
+"But where's Eustace? That's what I want to know."
+
+He looked from Wallace to Harding savagely.
+
+"If you are prepared to sign the transfer, Mr. Dudgeon, we can proceed
+with the business," Wallace replied. "Mrs. Burke is waiting."
+
+Dudgeon glanced at her covertly.
+
+She was standing, as she stood throughout the subsequent proceedings, a
+silent spectator, irritating him by the mere fact that she was so
+absolutely impassive. When the time came for her to sign the formal
+documents which made Waroona Downs hers, Wallace placed a chair at the
+table; but she ignored it, bending down gracefully as she signed her
+name in beautifully flowing characters.
+
+Old Dudgeon's hands, knotted and stiff with many a day's toil, were not
+familiar with the pen. As he laboured with the coarse, splodgy strokes
+which ranked as his signature, the sight of the delicate curves of the
+letters she had made fanned the flame of his wrath still higher. He also
+stood to sign, not because she had done so, but because he scorned to
+use a chair which belonged to his enemies. When he drew back from the
+table he saw how she had been standing almost behind him, looking over
+his shoulder as he wrote. A smile which he read as a sign of derision
+was on her lips and in her eyes.
+
+He kicked the chair viciously towards her.
+
+"Why don't you sit down, woman?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Because I prefer to stand--man," she replied.
+
+It was the first time he had heard her voice, and he started at the
+sound, wincing as, with one quick, furtive glance, he met her eyes
+again.
+
+"Is that all you want?" he asked Wallace abruptly.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Dudgeon, that is all. Will you take the gold with you,
+or leave it for safety in the bank?"
+
+"Leave it at the bank, eh?" he sneered. "No, thank you, Mr. Wallace, I
+trust you as far as I trust your bank, and you know how far that is
+without my telling you."
+
+"Very good, Mr. Dudgeon. Will you watch it while it is being carried to
+your buggy? There are two troopers here who have acted as my escort
+from the head office. If you care to take them with you as a
+protection----"
+
+"I want neither you nor your troopers," Dudgeon snarled. "I can take
+care of myself and my money, too, without anyone's help."
+
+He watched, with undisguised suspicion, while the counted piles of
+sovereigns were replaced in the bags, while the bags were carried away
+and stacked in the rackety old vehicle. Then, when the tally was
+complete, he walked out of the bank, climbed into the buggy, gathered up
+the reins and drove away without a word or a glance for anyone.
+
+The bitterness of defeat was rankling in him, the defeat of his lifelong
+determination that never, while he was on the earth to prevent it,
+should a woman live where his faith in the sex had been wrecked. It was
+bitter to think how he had been foiled after all by a woman, but still
+more so when the woman was of such a type as the one who had outwitted
+him. It was a new experience for him to be beaten at his own game, still
+a newer experience to find himself remembering the one by whom he was
+beaten as he was remembering the woman whose voice, despite his surly
+antagonism, rang in his ears with a melody which was as the song of a
+syren. Each time he had measured swords with her she had triumphed--just
+as, in the far-off days, Kitty Lambton had triumphed.
+
+Kitty Lambton!
+
+He pulled himself up short as the name passed through his mind. Why
+should he recall her now as Kitty Lambton when she had ceased to be
+that the day she left Waroona Downs with O'Guire? Why should this
+resolute woman recall her as Kitty Lambton and not as Kitty O'Guire?
+
+As he drove along the lonely bush track which led to Taloona, his mind
+drifted across the years to the time when first he had come to the
+district, to the time when Kitty Lambton stood for him for all that was
+noble and generous and pure in life; when he was content to work the
+livelong day with a light heart and happy mind, satisfied with the
+reward of her presence when his day's work was done. For a mile or so of
+the journey he strove to nurse his resentment against this clear-eyed
+woman whose raven black hair was in such absolute contrast to the flaxen
+locks of the vanished Kitty, but whose voice had caused the intrusion of
+these bygone memories into his waking thoughts. But gradually,
+unconsciously, the long-suppressed recollections of the girl who had
+charmed his youthful fancies took possession of him.
+
+Hitherto, whenever he had remembered her, it was with bitterness and
+anger; but now his mind was as free from anger as though the cause for
+it had never existed. It was the time when Kitty was the charmer which
+had come to him, the time when the gnawing anguish of betrayal was
+unknown, and slowly there obtruded itself upon him a dim, shadowy,
+speculating wonder as to all which might have been had she never changed
+for him from the charmer to the betrayer.
+
+But he was not used to introspective analysis, and the efforts to
+grapple with the subtleties of his own subconscious memories brought a
+tendency to his mind to lose the clear-cut edge of a fact in a blur of
+misty vision. No longer did the memory of Nora Burke irritate him. Had
+he associated her with Kitty the betrayer, the irritation would never
+have passed; but as it was Kitty the charmer her voice brought to him,
+he drifted, in the sere and yellow age, down the stream of fantasy upon
+which he had turned his back in scorn when the blood of youth ran in his
+veins.
+
+For miles the road slipped by unnoticed and unheeded as the old horse
+stumbled on at his own pace, unguided by the hand that held the reins.
+The breath of life had sought to fan the withered soul, but only one
+small spark, deep-smothered by the dead mass of loveless years,
+smouldered weakly where the record of a long life filled with human
+sympathy should have blazed in answer. The gold for which he had striven
+lay forgotten at his feet; the hate which he had nurtured passed, a
+vapid filmy shade, as the withered soul shrank shivering, chilled at the
+void the one poor spark revealed.
+
+The sight of his solitary hut, glowing in the warm mellow light of the
+evening sun, broke in upon a reverie so deep he could never recall all
+that it had contained.
+
+A horse hitched to one of the verandah posts, against which a man in
+uniform was leaning, brought him back to the world of reality with a
+shock. The hawk-like eyes gleamed as suspicion flashed through his
+brain. Had Wallace, despite his refusal, sent the troopers after him?
+The whip-lash fell viciously across the horse's back and the old rackety
+buggy rattled as Dudgeon finished his drive at a canter.
+
+"Well, what do you want?" he cried, as he pulled up opposite his door.
+
+Durham glanced from the stern, hard face of the man to the pile of
+money-bags clustered round his feet on the floor of the buggy, and over
+which he had not even taken the trouble to throw a rug.
+
+"I am a sub-inspector of police--Durham is my name----"
+
+"Durham?" the old man exclaimed. "Are you the man who rode down Parker,
+the cattle thief, when he was making off with a mob of imported prize
+stock?"
+
+"I arrested Parker--a couple of years ago."
+
+Dudgeon leant forward and held out his hand.
+
+"I'm proud to meet you, my lad. That mob of cattle belonged to me. You
+saved me a few thousands over that job of yours. I'm much obliged to
+you. I hoped to meet you some day so as to thank you."
+
+"I don't remember your name in the case," Durham said.
+
+"No, my lad, there was no need for me to appear. It was a Government
+affair to prosecute Parker. Why should I pay money away for the
+Government? Look at the anxiety and loss of time I had to put up with.
+Nobody offered to make that good."
+
+"But you got your cattle?"
+
+"Well, they _were_ mine--I paid for them. But that's all right. I'm much
+obliged to you for the trouble you took to catch the scoundrel--ten
+years I think he got? He ought to have been hanged. I'd have hanged him
+if I had been the judge. What are you after now? After more
+cattle-stealers?"
+
+"Not this time. I'm on my way to Waroona; but I've been travelling all
+day and my horse is a bit knocked up. Can I turn him into one of your
+paddocks for the night?"
+
+"Grass is worth money these times," the old man said slowly. "I suppose
+the Government will pay me for the use of the paddock, won't they?"
+
+"You can demand it, of course, if you care to," Durham replied.
+
+"And where are you going to camp? You'll want a feed, I suppose?"
+
+"I reckoned I could get one here."
+
+"Oh, you can get one here all right. There's no luxury about the place.
+I'm a poor man and just carry enough stores to keep me going. There's
+only me about the place now, so you'll have to do your own cooking; but
+you'll find it as comfortable as any bush pub, and cheaper, for there's
+no drink to be had, and half a crown for your supper and bed won't hurt
+you. You can take it or leave it--I'm not particular."
+
+He climbed out of the buggy and began unharnessing the horse.
+
+"You have heard of the robbery at the bank, I suppose, Mr. Dudgeon?"
+Durham asked.
+
+"Heard of what?"
+
+He stood up with his hand still on the buckle he was unfastening.
+
+"The robbery at the bank. I thought everyone in the district had heard
+of it."
+
+The old man remained without moving, his eyes fixed on Durham.
+
+"Haven't heard a word. What's the yarn?"
+
+"The bank was robbed yesterday--all the money taken, including the gold
+which had been sent up to pay you for Waroona Downs. Soon after the
+robbery, Eustace, the manager, disappeared."
+
+"Then who's Wallace?"
+
+"He is one of the officials from the head office."
+
+"But he had the money ready to pay me. How could that be if----"
+
+"He arrived with it to-day--he was expected about noon, I believe."
+
+Dudgeon let go the buckle and took two slow, deliberate steps nearer
+Durham.
+
+"Brought it with him?" he exclaimed. "And only arrived about noon?"
+
+"About that, I believe," Durham replied.
+
+The old man snatched the hat from his head and flung it on the ground.
+
+"Sold! by God! Sold!" he yelled. "If I'd been there before that chap
+arrived, I'd have beaten them--they couldn't have paid, and I'd have
+cried off the deal. Why didn't you come and tell me earlier? What's the
+good of your coming here now?"
+
+"Don't you think it rather risky to drive through the bush with a pile
+of money like that in your buggy while those bank robbers are still at
+liberty?" Durham said quietly.
+
+Dudgeon stood back and looked at him quizzically.
+
+"Oh, you're on it too, are you? That's your game, is it? Well, see here,
+my lad, anyone who can take this money without my knowing it is welcome
+to it. Do you understand?"
+
+He resumed his work of unharnessing the horse, leading it away, as soon
+as it was clear of the shafts, to a lean-to shed at the side of the hut
+where he hung up the harness and turned the horse free.
+
+"Well, how about that half-crown? Are you going to stay, or aren't you?
+Government won't pay that, you know. You find your own tucker, my lad."
+
+"I wish to stay here to-night," Durham answered.
+
+"Then chuck over the cash."
+
+It was obvious that if Durham wished to stay, he would have to pay, so
+without further demur he passed over the amount Dudgeon demanded for his
+supper and bed.
+
+"Now we start fair," the old man said, as he put the money in his
+pocket. "I'm under no obligation to you and you're under no obligation
+to me. That is what I call trading square."
+
+He unlocked the door and flung it open.
+
+"You'll find some cold meat and bread on the shelf, and there's tea in
+the canister over the fire-place. You'll have to fetch what water you
+want from the tank."
+
+As Durham entered the hut, Dudgeon went to the buggy and lifted one of
+the bags of gold in his arms, carrying it inside.
+
+The hut was a small and unpretentious structure. The door opened
+directly into the living-room, to which there was only one small window
+looking out on the verandah. A second door led into a small kitchen, off
+which opened another small room used by Dudgeon for sleeping.
+
+With the bag of gold in his arms he stood in the doorway.
+
+"You'll have to sleep on that stretcher over there," he said, nodding to
+a rough framework of untrimmed saplings with a length of coarse canvas
+fastened across. "You won't be cold. Keep a good fire on. You'll find an
+axe in the harness shed if you want to get any wood."
+
+He passed on through the second door and Durham set about lighting the
+fire. As he did so, Dudgeon made journeys to and fro, coming from the
+back of the hut empty-handed and returning from the buggy with a bag of
+gold in his arms until he had carried all the twenty-five thousand
+pounds in. By that time the fire was alight, and Durham went out to turn
+his horse loose. He returned by way of the harness shed, took the axe
+and went to the back of the hut to cut some wood for the night. As he
+turned the corner, he saw old Dudgeon with a spade in his hand, entering
+the hut by the back door.
+
+"Ah, that's good," the old man exclaimed, when Durham entered the
+living-room with an armful of cut wood. "That'll last the night through.
+I see you made the tea, so I had mine as I was wanting a feed. You'll
+have to boil some more water--there was only enough for one in the first
+lot you made."
+
+"I made that tea for myself, Mr. Dudgeon," Durham exclaimed.
+
+"Well, make some more. There's plenty of water in the tank--I won't
+charge you any more for using the can twice, though every time it's put
+on the fire means so much less life for it."
+
+Durham swung round in heat.
+
+"You're the meanest man on the face of the earth," he cried.
+
+Dudgeon looked at him with his shaggy brows almost obscuring the cold,
+hawk-like eyes.
+
+"If you hadn't paid me for your grub and a camp, I'd turn you out of the
+place," he snarled. "You've no more gratitude for kindness than a black
+fellow."
+
+Durham bit back the angry retort which rose to his lips. Little wonder
+the bank people were so indifferent to the old man's safety; little
+wonder no one had troubled to bring him news of the incident which
+formed the main item of gossip from end to end of the district. If this
+was the way he treated a visitor who paid, and paid dearly, for his
+board and bed, how, Durham asked himself, would he treat an ordinary
+guest?
+
+But he held his peace, refilled the can with water and set it to boil,
+Dudgeon sitting in the one chair the room contained, as he stolidly cut
+a pipeful of tobacco.
+
+When the water boiled, Durham made a second brew of tea and took his
+seat on a stool which was by the table. He helped himself to bread and
+meat and commenced his meal, but never a word did Dudgeon speak. He sat
+placidly smoking, his eyes on the smouldering embers of the fire,
+without as much as a glance in the direction of his visitor.
+
+The sun went down and the interior of the hut grew gloomy.
+
+"Haven't you a lamp?" Durham asked. "I cannot see what I am eating."
+
+"Make the fire up--that's good enough for me," Dudgeon replied without
+raising his head.
+
+On the shelf over the fire-place Durham had noticed a kerosene lamp, a
+cheap, rickety article with a clear-glass bowl half-full of oil. He rose
+from the stool, reached for the lamp, put it on the table and lit it.
+
+"Here, that oil costs money," Dudgeon snarled as he looked round. "Half
+a crown won't cover luxuries--you'll pass over another bob if you're
+going to waste my oil."
+
+Durham resumed his seat without heeding.
+
+"Do you hear?" Dudgeon exclaimed. "If you ain't going to pay, you ain't
+going----"
+
+He stood up as he spoke, stood up and took a step towards the table with
+one hand outstretched to lift away the lamp.
+
+Durham, looking round as he moved, saw his eyes suddenly open wide and
+stare fixedly at the door.
+
+At the same moment a voice rang through the room.
+
+"Hands up, or you're dead men!"
+
+Springing to his feet Durham faced towards the door.
+
+Standing in it were two figures, one the yellow-bearded man he had seen
+at Waroona Downs, the other a man of slighter build whose face was
+entirely concealed by a handkerchief hanging from under his hat and
+gathered in at the throat, with two holes burned for the eyes. Each man
+held a revolver, the masked man covering Durham, the bearded man
+covering Dudgeon.
+
+"Hands up!"
+
+There was the sharp ring in the voice which betokens the strain of a
+deadly determination. The eyes which glanced along the sights of the
+levelled weapon, aimed direct at Durham's head, were merciless and hard.
+Unless they were the last words he was ever to hear, Durham realised
+there was only one course open. He raised his hands above his head. A
+side glance showed him Dudgeon standing with his arms up.
+
+"Turn your back, and put your hands behind you," he heard the bearded
+man say, and Dudgeon shuffled round.
+
+A double click followed, a familiar sound to Durham--the click of
+snapping handcuffs.
+
+"Now, Mr. Detective, it's your turn," he heard the man say. "Put your
+hands behind you."
+
+The eyes behind the mask wandered for an instant from their aim to
+glance at the shackled Dudgeon.
+
+On that instant Durham acted.
+
+Straight at the face of the man beside him he hit, and as his clenched
+fist came in contact with the bearded face, he ducked.
+
+A shrill cry came from the man he had struck, almost simultaneously
+with the report of a revolver-shot.
+
+Durham heard a scream of pain from Dudgeon, but before he could know
+more there was a crashing blow on his head, and he fell senseless to the
+floor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+"FOOLED"
+
+
+In the dining-room of the bank Wallace, Harding, and Mrs. Eustace sat.
+
+"I have no alternative," Wallace said. "My instructions are peremptory
+on the subject. If, after investigation, I considered the suspicion
+against your husband as well founded, I was to request you to leave the
+bank premises without delay."
+
+"You believe my husband stole that money?"
+
+"I believe your husband stole that money, Mrs. Eustace."
+
+"You may live to change your opinion, Mr. Wallace. My husband is as
+innocent as I am. He has acted precipitately, I admit, and more than
+foolishly in going away as he has done; but that does not prove him
+guilty."
+
+"I am afraid I cannot discuss the question with you," Wallace replied
+evenly. "I can only carry out my instructions. I have told you what they
+are, and what my opinion is. I am sorry to inconvenience you, but I have
+no alternative."
+
+"Do you wish me to leave at once?"
+
+"Scarcely to-night; but I must ask you to get away as soon as you can."
+
+For a space there was silence.
+
+"I would like to speak to Mr. Harding, if you don't mind," she said
+presently.
+
+"Then I will leave you, for I have been steadily travelling all last
+night and to-day till I arrived here, and shall be glad to get to bed,"
+Wallace answered. "Any arrangement you can make, Harding, to assist Mrs.
+Eustace, I shall be pleased to hear about. You will quite understand,
+Mrs. Eustace, that in asking you to vacate the premises the bank is
+merely actuated by ordinary considerations and is in no way acting
+vindictively or harshly."
+
+She inclined her head slightly in response, but otherwise made no sign
+as Wallace left the room.
+
+For some time after he had gone she remained silent, Harding waiting for
+her to speak. Raising her head, she looked him steadily in the face.
+
+"I suppose I ought to call you Mr. Harding now," she began, "but I
+can't, Fred, I can't."
+
+"As you wish," he said.
+
+There came another silence, the woman unable to trust herself to
+continue, the man fearing to begin.
+
+"How life mocks one," she said, half to herself. "Surely it is
+punishment enough that I should have to turn to you in my distress,
+humiliating enough even to satisfy your desire for retribution. I do not
+blame you, Fred. I deserve it all. I treated you vilely."
+
+"Is there any necessity to refer to that now?" he asked. "I told you the
+curtain had been rung down for ever upon that. I have no wish either to
+punish or humiliate you. I don't think that I have given you reason to
+believe that I do. If you think there has been any reason, I can only
+say you are mistaken."
+
+She started impulsively to her feet and stood in front of him, holding
+her hands to him.
+
+"Fred, I must say it. I cannot bear this longer. It may make you hate
+me--detest and despise me, but I must say it. If you had only shown
+resentment or anger or spite for the way in which I treated you, it
+would not have been so hard to bear. Oh, don't you see? Don't you
+understand? Oh, isn't there one scrap of pity left in you for me? I was
+trapped into marriage, Fred. I never loved him, never, never! He--oh,
+have some pity on me, Fred, some pity."
+
+She sank into a chair and buried her face on her arms on the table as
+she gave way to a storm of weeping.
+
+To the man it was agony to see her, anguish to hear her, more bitter
+after the confession she had made and while the grip of suspicion still
+held him. Scarcely knowing what he did, he stepped to her side and laid
+his hand gently upon her head.
+
+"I have pity, more than pity for you, Jess," he whispered. "Don't
+think----" He caught his breath to check the quiver in his voice, and so
+remembered. "I beg your pardon--Mrs. Eustace I should have said," he
+added as he drew back.
+
+With hands close clenched behind him he stood. The love he fancied he
+had stifled had burst through the restraint he had placed upon it; the
+injury she had inflicted upon him, the wrong she had done, the cause
+for resentment she had given him were alike forgotten. The lingering
+suspicion alone prevented him from taking her in his arms to soothe and
+comfort her in her distress. Fighting against himself he stood silent,
+and the woman, aching for someone on whom to lean, shivered.
+
+"What am I to do?" she moaned. "What am I to do?"
+
+He, thinking only of her, took the words to refer to her present
+difficulty.
+
+"I think it would be better if you went away," he said gently. "I do not
+think it will be easier for you to bear if you are here when--should
+anything else come to light."
+
+"You mean if--if he is arrested?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+She lifted up her head and turned a tear-stained face towards him.
+
+"Have they found him? Have they? Is that why--why I am asked to leave
+the house?"
+
+"No, Mrs. Eustace. A new manager will be appointed, and the house is
+wanted for him."
+
+"But I will not leave Waroona," she exclaimed, as she stood up. "I dare
+not leave it--till I know. If he--suppose he did do it--and wants to
+find me?"
+
+"I should advise you to go right away," Harding said, still speaking
+gently. "You will do no good by remaining here where everybody knows
+what has happened, whereas if you go away you will be able to put all
+the worry of it away from you."
+
+"I will not go."
+
+She spoke with a fierce emphasis, the more pronounced because she felt
+that the course he suggested was the one she ought to follow, and
+resenting it because, by following it, she would pass out of his sight,
+and perchance out of his life for all time.
+
+"I can only advise you," he said. "The new manager may be here in a day
+or two, and the bank will----"
+
+"Oh, I'm not going to stay in this house," she interrupted. "I will be
+out of here to-morrow; but I will not leave Waroona."
+
+"You will make a mistake if you do not, I think, but it is for you to
+decide."
+
+She sat down again, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap.
+
+"If I go--will you--will you write to me?"
+
+"No, I cannot do that," he answered at once.
+
+"May I--write to you?"
+
+"I should be sorry if you did."
+
+She raised her eyes and again looked at him steadily in silence, looked
+until he turned away.
+
+"How hard you make it, how hard!" she said at length. "How am I to know
+what is happening if I go away? I am sure you are expecting his arrest.
+Why did those two troopers go off so mysteriously this afternoon? They
+did not go to the railway. I watched them from upstairs. They rode the
+other way."
+
+He did not reply.
+
+"Will you answer me this one question? Do you believe I know he is the
+thief?"
+
+"If there is anything that I can do to help or assist you in your
+present difficulty, Mrs. Eustace, I shall be only too pleased to do it.
+But I cannot discuss the robbery with you."
+
+For the first time there was a tone of sternness in his voice.
+
+"Then I take it that you do," she said. "I only want to tell you this. I
+still do not believe he did it. I know he is--he is not as you are. I
+have tried to shield this from you. I did not want you to know--then.
+Now I have told you. I did not know he was going to run away. I did not
+know he had gone until Brennan came to arrest him. But I can understand
+why he went. He knew the bank would suspect him at once, knew that there
+was a black record against him. It was cowardly of him, cowardly to
+leave me here alone. But he has gone, and I do not think I shall ever
+hear from him or see him again. That is why I want to remain here. If I
+go away, I may never know; if I am here, I shall be able to find out.
+But don't think that I know either that he intended to run away or where
+he has gone. At least have that much faith in me."
+
+"I did think so," he said quickly. "Now I do not."
+
+"Thank you," she said softly. "I know how difficult it is for you to say
+even that. You cannot discuss the matter, but--don't think harder of me,
+Fred, than you can help."
+
+She turned quickly and hurried from the room. She had scarcely closed
+the door when she reopened it.
+
+"Constable Brennan is asking for you," she said. "Will you go in?"
+
+She pushed the door wide open and Brennan came forward.
+
+"Is Mr. Wallace here?" he asked, as soon as he had seen the door close.
+
+"He has gone to bed--he is rather tired out after his journey. Is it
+anything particular?"
+
+"One of the troopers has just ridden back. When they reached Taloona
+they found the place on fire. The sub-inspector was outside with his
+head smashed, and Mr. Dudgeon, with a bullet through him and his hands
+handcuffed behind his back, lying on the floor of the hut. They saw the
+glare of the fire through the trees and only galloped up just in time to
+get the old man out. He's in a bad way, Conlon said, and so is the
+sub-inspector."
+
+"Wait till I tell Mr. Wallace," Harding exclaimed, as he rushed from the
+room.
+
+Outside in the passage, Mrs. Eustace faced him.
+
+"Fred, what is it? I heard--who is killed?"
+
+"Nobody, I hope. I'll be back in a moment."
+
+He dashed up to Wallace's room and hammered at the door.
+
+"Hullo, what's the matter now?" Wallace cried, as he answered the knock.
+
+"Come down to the dining-room. Brennan is there. One of the troopers has
+come back. Taloona is burnt and both Dudgeon and Durham injured."
+
+When they reached the dining-room they found Mrs. Eustace with Brennan.
+
+"I can be of use. I know how to nurse. I've learned how to give first
+aid. Let me go out and attend to them till the doctor comes. He is
+twenty miles away, and they may bleed to death before he can get there.
+I've got some bandages. I'll fetch them," Mrs. Eustace was saying.
+
+She turned as Wallace and Harding entered.
+
+"Tell them, Brennan, while I get the things," she added as she ran out
+and upstairs.
+
+"It's wicked to think of her wasted on a scoundrel like that," Brennan
+exclaimed. "You heard what she said, sir? I know she's the only one in
+the township who understands what to do till the doctor comes. We've
+sent a man off for him, and they're getting a party together to go out
+and fetch the sub-inspector and the old man in. She's offered to go too.
+It may save their lives, for, from what Conlon said, they're badly hurt,
+both of them."
+
+"Has the gold gone?" Wallace asked.
+
+"I reckon so, though there's no saying until we hear what has happened.
+But it looks like a bad case of sticking the place up and trying to
+murder the inmates. Hullo, there's Mr. Gale calling. He's got his buggy.
+There's a seat to spare if either of you like to go."
+
+"You'd be of more use than I should, Harding," Wallace said.
+
+"Yes, I'll go," the younger man replied.
+
+Mrs. Eustace came running into the room, her arms full of bottles and
+bandages.
+
+"I haven't stopped to sort them out--I'll take all I've got," she
+exclaimed breathlessly.
+
+"I will put them in the buggy while you get a cloak. I am coming with
+you," Harding said, as he took the articles from her and carried them
+out to Gale's buggy, which was drawn up outside the bank.
+
+"You had better bring them here; it's quieter and more roomy than any
+other place in the town," Wallace said to Brennan when they were alone.
+
+"If they can stand the journey," Brennan said under his breath. "I've
+told Conlon to ride back and let us know; I'll have to stay here."
+
+"Then I'll tell Harding."
+
+He reached the front door as Harding was returning, after having packed
+the things Mrs. Eustace had given him in the buggy. At the same moment
+Mrs. Eustace tripped down the stairs and ran across the hall.
+
+"You had better bring them here," he began when she turned quickly
+towards him.
+
+"Bring them here? Mr. Wallace, do you want to kill them? If they are
+badly injured it would be fatal to move them this distance. I will send
+word back at once, but if the doctor comes before you hear, send him on.
+Now, I'm ready."
+
+She went out with Harding at her side.
+
+"I am so glad to have you with me," she said softly. "It is good of you
+to come."
+
+He helped her into the buggy without speaking, though the clinging touch
+of her hand thrilled him. He had known her as a light-hearted girl, full
+of frolicsome impulses and mischievous tricks, and had loved her with a
+passion that kept her ever before him. He had seen her when that
+love-lit image had been veiled by the gloom of seeming disillusion. He
+had seen her striving to sacrifice herself in order to shield the man
+who had blighted her life, and he had seen her as a man loves best to
+see the woman he reveres, throw aside the conventional reserve for him
+to learn the innermost secret of her heart. But never had he seen her as
+she appeared to him at that moment and later, when they arrived at the
+scene of the outrage, cool, clear-headed, capable, thinking only of the
+sufferings of others, cheering them with tactful sympathy, tending them
+with gentle care, the while her own soul was down-weighted with care and
+sorrow.
+
+Throughout the ten-mile drive little was said, each one of the three
+instinctively refraining from all reference to the subject which was
+uppermost in their minds, and failing to maintain even a desultory
+conversation on more commonplace topics. Gale drove his pair at a hand
+gallop all the way till the road swerved from the straight and through
+the dim mystery of the starlit bush an angry red glow showed among the
+trees.
+
+The last of the homestead, now an irregular heap of smouldering ashes
+over which stray lambent flames flickered and danced, served to shed
+sufficient light to show where two still figures lay under the shelter
+of Dudgeon's rackety old buggy, thrown over on its side. The trooper's
+horse, tethered to a tree, pawed the ground impatiently as it champed
+its bit, while its master, with a carbine on his arm, paced slowly to
+and fro. As the galloping pair swung into sight he faced round sharply
+and brought his carbine to the ready, till he recognised Harding.
+
+"Are you the doctor? You're badly wanted," he exclaimed as Gale reined
+up beside him.
+
+"Quick. Help me out," Mrs. Eustace said as Harding leaped to the ground.
+She ran lightly over to the two figures. Through the rough bandage the
+troopers had tied round Durham's head a red stain was spreading. Dudgeon
+lay with glittering eyes staring vacantly. His right leg was bandaged,
+but more than a stain showed upon it.
+
+She knelt down beside the old man, and as with deft, quick fingers she
+untied the bandage, she looked up at Harding.
+
+"Bring me that packet of cotton-wool, the little leather case, all the
+bandages, and the bottle with the red label, at once. Tell the trooper
+to fetch the others."
+
+By the time he returned she had the handkerchief the trooper had bound
+round the old man's leg loosened.
+
+"Open the case and give me the scissors," she said without a trace of
+excitement or nervousness in her voice.
+
+She slipped a rent in the trouser and held the edges back, revealing a
+punctured wound out of which a red stream gushed. In a moment she had a
+wad of cotton-wool rolled and moistened it from the bottle with the red
+label, placing it with a firm light touch on the wound.
+
+"While I hold this, cut the trouser leg right down," she said, and
+Harding, his own nerves steadied by the calmness of hers, did as she
+bid.
+
+The trooper came over with the rest of the articles, and while she
+watched what Harding was doing she told him, quietly, how to prepare a
+lotion and bring it to her.
+
+Gale came over as soon as he had secured his horses.
+
+"Will you go down to the men's huts and see if there is a bunk where we
+can put him?" she said, looking quickly at Gale.
+
+"Why didn't you think of that?" Gale exclaimed as he glanced at the
+trooper. "You ought to have taken them there at once."
+
+"You had better go too," she added to the trooper. "Bring something back
+with you, a door or a table or anything that will do to carry him on."
+
+Left alone with Harding, she never ceased until she had the wound
+stanched, cleansed, and properly bound up.
+
+"There is brandy in that flask, Fred. Mix about a tablespoonful in three
+times as much water."
+
+He brought her the stuff in a pannikin, believing it was for herself.
+
+"Raise his head gently," she said, and slowly poured the mixture between
+the old man's nerveless lips.
+
+Without a pause she turned to Durham and had the ugly wound on his scalp
+laid bare. Snipping the hair away from it, she lightly touched the
+bruised skin surrounding the jagged cut.
+
+"I'm afraid the skull is fractured--I hope the doctor will soon be
+here," she whispered, as she busied herself with the cotton-wool and
+red-labelled bottle.
+
+By the time she had Durham's head bandaged, Gale and the trooper
+returned, carrying the door from one of the huts.
+
+"There are two huts with a single bunk in each, and one with four," Gale
+said.
+
+"Use the two with the single bunks," she said. "When are the others
+coming from the township?"
+
+"They're coming along the road now," the trooper answered.
+
+"Run and see if they have any blankets with them. If not, send someone
+back at once for some."
+
+But there was more than blankets in the buggy that came up at breakneck
+speed. By the veriest chance the doctor had been within a mile or so of
+Waroona and had come away at once, bringing with him such articles as he
+knew would be wanted. He hastened over to the two wounded men just as
+Dudgeon gave utterance to the first sound he had made since the troopers
+had dragged him out of the burning homestead.
+
+The doctor bent over him, rapidly examining the bandage round the leg.
+He stood up and turned to Durham.
+
+"Who put on those bandages?" he asked sharply, as he looked up.
+
+"I did, doctor. I plugged the bullet-hole with an iodoform wad and
+stopped the bleeding. I put a pad on Mr. Durham's wound, but I fancy his
+skull is injured."
+
+"Where were you going to send them?"
+
+"There are two single-bunk huts at the men's quarters. I was going to
+have them taken there on that door until you came."
+
+"We will take them there at once."
+
+Under his directions the two were lifted and carried away to the huts
+and made as comfortable as was possible in the rough timber bunks. With
+Mrs. Eustace and Harding to assist him, he found and removed the bullet
+from the old man's leg and quickly operated on Durham.
+
+"I don't know what they would say in some of the swagger hospitals, if
+they were asked to trepan a man's skull under these conditions," he said
+as the operation was finished. "But he'll pull through, and thank you,
+as the old man will when he knows, for saving his life. Aren't you Mrs.
+Eustace?"
+
+"Yes," she answered.
+
+"I hardly had time to notice who you were before. You're a brave woman.
+For your sake I hope your husband gets away."
+
+The blood surged to her face, and then left it pallid. The shadow of her
+sorrow had been forgotten during the strenuous moments she had gone
+through; the tactless remark brought it back upon her with cruel
+emphasis. She turned aside and slipped through the door at the back of
+the hut while the doctor, oblivious to his blunder, went out at the
+other.
+
+Harding was about to follow her, when one of the troopers appeared at
+the door through which the doctor had gone. He held a letter in his
+hand.
+
+"I found this where the lady knelt when she tied up the sub-inspector's
+head--I fancy it's either hers or yours."
+
+On the flap of the envelope Harding saw the bank's impress.
+
+"It probably is hers," he answered as he took it. "I will give it to her
+at once."
+
+There was no sign of her as he passed out of the little door at the back
+of the hut and, believing she had gone round to the other, he turned to
+go back when, in a limp and dishevelled heap, he saw her lying on the
+ground against the wall of the hut.
+
+Her upturned face was white and drawn as he stooped over her.
+
+"Jess!" he whispered. "Jess! Are you ill?"
+
+She made no response, and he placed his arms gently round her and lifted
+her till she lay in his clasp, her head drooped on his shoulder.
+
+The movement revived her sufficiently for her to know what was
+happening.
+
+A long-drawn sigh escaped her lips and she essayed to stand alone.
+
+"No, Jess, no. Lean on me. You must get back home and rest. You have
+overdone it," he whispered.
+
+"Fred! You!"
+
+The arms that had hung lifeless wreathed round his neck, the head that
+had dropped on his shoulder nestled close and the white face upturned.
+
+"Oh, take me away, Fred, take me away from this horror--anywhere,
+anywhere, so that I may be with you."
+
+"Hush, Jess, hush. You must not talk like that," he whispered, the
+strength of the grip with which he held her and the soft tremor of his
+voice giving her the lie to his words.
+
+"Darling, I must," she answered. "Give me freedom from the misery that
+man has brought into my life. Oh, you do not know what it has been and
+is still. You heard what the doctor said."
+
+She shuddered as she recalled the words.
+
+"The tactless fool," he muttered, resentment rising against the man who
+had not hesitated to add another twelve hours' work to an already
+arduous day when the call of suffering reached him.
+
+"No, he only said what others think. I know, Fred. I can feel it. Mr.
+Gale was the same. They all are."
+
+"You must not think that--you must not," he said. "And you must not stay
+in Waroona. You must go away."
+
+Her arms held tighter.
+
+"I will never go, never, while you remain. Don't despise me, Fred, don't
+think ill of me. I know what I am saying. I am on the edge of a
+precipice. If I go over, I go down, down, down, an outcast, and
+a--a----"
+
+"Don't," he whispered hoarsely. "Don't talk like that."
+
+"Who would care?" she added bitterly, "even if I did?"
+
+It was no longer merely support that his encircling arms gave her as
+they strained her to him.
+
+"It would break my heart," he whispered simply. "I am one who would
+care."
+
+Unconsciously he bent his head, unconsciously she raised hers, until
+their lips met, and in one passionate embrace the intervening years
+since they had been heart to heart before passed as a dream, and only
+did they know that despite all the barriers which had been raised
+between them they were bound by a tie beyond the reach of custom,
+circumstance, or force.
+
+With that knowledge uplifting and upholding them, they drew apart.
+
+"You must go and rest now, Jess. You have need of all your strength to
+face what lies before you," he said gently.
+
+"I don't mind what it is--now," she answered.
+
+"Then I will go and ask Gale to drive you back. I will give you all the
+news when I return in the morning."
+
+"Are you staying?" Gale exclaimed directly he saw him. "I've harnessed
+up, so if you and Mrs. Eustace----"
+
+"I'm staying, but she will come back with you--the experience has been
+rather trying for her."
+
+"Trying?" Gale exclaimed. "She's the noblest woman I've ever met. I
+don't care what's the truth about the bank affair, but there's not a man
+in Waroona who won't reverence that woman when he hears what she has
+done to-night."
+
+"I'll tell her you are ready," Harding answered.
+
+"Where is she? Down at the huts? I'll drive down for her."
+
+She was standing talking to the doctor when Harding returned.
+
+"I'm more anxious about the old man," the doctor was saying as Harding
+came up. "He'll want very careful nursing, so if you could undertake it,
+you'll lift a weight off my shoulders."
+
+"I will be ready to come out to-morrow if you want me," she answered.
+"Send word by Mr. Harding when he comes in--he is going to stay here
+to-night. You will bring me word, won't you?" she added, turning to
+Harding. "Is Mr. Gale driving back?"
+
+"He is coming now to pick you up--here he is," Harding replied as Gale's
+buggy and pair swung into sight.
+
+He helped her in and wrapped a rug round her.
+
+"Don't be late in the morning--I shall be anxious to hear if the doctor
+wants me," she said as Gale turned his horses and drove off.
+
+"She's a splendid woman that," the doctor said as he stood looking after
+the buggy disappearing in the dusk. "Pity she's tied to such a rat as
+that chap Eustace. I suppose you know him?"
+
+"I am in the bank," Harding answered.
+
+"Oh, are you? Then perhaps I've put my foot in it?"
+
+"I don't think so."
+
+"Have you known him long?"
+
+"Eustace? No, only since I've been in the branch--about three weeks."
+
+"I should have judged you had known her for years."
+
+"I have, but I have only known her husband since I have been here."
+
+"Knew her before she was married?"
+
+"That is so."
+
+"Then tell me, why did she want to marry that rat? I've only seen him
+once, but that was more than enough. Smoke! Women are regular
+conundrums. There's that one, as true and big-hearted a creature as
+ever breathed--look at the pluck she showed to-night--and yet she goes
+and throws herself away on a miserable crawler who can't even respect
+the trust his employers placed in him. What does it mean to her? Just
+think of it--the wife of a common thief, worse than a common thief to my
+mind. What'll become of her? He'll be caught and sent to gaol for years.
+What's she going to do then? It's a pity someone doesn't shoot him--it
+would save her from degradation."
+
+The buggy had vanished in the dusk. He turned to his companion. The dim
+light from the hut fell full on Harding's face. The doctor whistled.
+
+"Hope I haven't said too much, old chap. I forgot. If you've known her
+for years--well, you know what I mean, don't you? I must get in to my
+patient. You'll look after the old man? I've given him a draught that'll
+keep him asleep. But call me if you want me."
+
+He went into the next hut where Durham lay. Harding stood where he left
+him, staring away into the night, in the direction the buggy had gone.
+The click-clock of the trotting horses came in a gradually diminishing
+clearness, beating time to the refrain which was running in his mind,
+the refrain of the doctor's words.
+
+If Eustace were captured there was little doubt what the sequence would
+be. A long sentence and his wife branded with the stain of his guilt.
+Better if he were dead--better if he were killed, rather than that
+destiny should overtake her.
+
+Harding's jaw set firm as his teeth gritted.
+
+The memory of her white, drawn face as he saw her lying on the ground
+outside the hut; the memory of her desolate wail for him to take her
+away from the horror of her surroundings; the memory of her patient care
+of the two injured men, injured, perhaps, by the "rat" who had ruined
+her life and his; the memory of her as he had first known her, jostled
+one another in his brain.
+
+Better, a thousand times better, if Eustace were dead.
+
+The doctor, looking out of the next hut, saw him still standing staring
+into the night.
+
+"How's the old man? Restless?" he asked as he came over.
+
+The voice brought Harding back from the clouds--the thunder-clouds,
+towards which he was drifting.
+
+"I'm just going in," he answered.
+
+The doctor followed him to the door. Dudgeon lay breathing peacefully in
+a deep sleep.
+
+"You can roll up in that blanket and make yourself as comfortable as
+possible--I don't think he'll awaken till the morning," the doctor said
+in a low tone when he had crossed to the bunk where Dudgeon lay and
+looked at him. "I must get back to my man."
+
+He went out of the hut without waiting for a reply and Harding made no
+attempt to follow him, but spread the blanket on the floor and lay down
+upon it.
+
+Until that moment he had entirely forgotten the letter the trooper had
+given him. As he lay back it suddenly recurred to him. He sat up and put
+his hand in his pocket to make sure it was still there. As he did so
+the old man stirred, and Harding waited to see whether he was going to
+wake.
+
+He remained with his hand in his pocket until Dudgeon's breathing showed
+he was again soundly asleep. Then, momentarily forgetful of the reason
+why he was holding the letter, he drew it out, took it from the
+envelope, and opened it.
+
+     "No one saw me go, and I am now safe where they will never find me.
+     Stay there till you hear from me again. A friend will bring you
+     word. Ask no questions, but send your answer as directed. You must
+     do everything as arranged, or all is lost. Whatever you do, don't
+     leave till I send you word. I am safe till the storm blows
+     over.--C."
+
+The writing was only too familiar, even without the peculiarly formed
+initial which was Eustace's particular sign.
+
+He sat like one paralysed, his eyes reading and rereading the words
+which changed to mockery all the revived faith in her. His brain grew
+numb. Like a man upon whose head an unexpected blow had fallen, he was
+only half conscious of what had happened. Even as he read and re-read
+the letter he failed to gather all that it meant, all that it revealed.
+The very simplicity of the situation stunned him.
+
+Then through the darkness of his mind there came, in one lurid flash,
+clear as a streak of lightning in the night, the full significance of
+it.
+
+Eustace, having made his escape, had sent the message to her!
+
+The scene in her boudoir the night before; the vision of the horsemen
+coming from the range; the face of the man with the yellow beard at the
+window, all passed before him. While he and Brennan were dashing across
+the yard, she or Bessie had found the note.
+
+So it had come into her possession, and it must have been in her
+possession while she was talking to him after Wallace told her she must
+leave the bank; must have been in her possession while she drove with
+him to Taloona, and, for aught she knew, was in her possession when he
+found her lying senseless outside the hut.
+
+He sprang to his feet, crushing the damning sheet in his hand.
+
+While she clung to him, and he held her in all the fervour of his
+re-awakened love, she must have believed the message he had read was
+still in her keeping.
+
+The sordid duplicity, the rank treachery of it seared and scorched.
+
+Forgetful of the sleeping man whom he was there to watch, forgetful of
+everything save the bitterness of his betrayal, he paced the floor with
+rapid, raging steps.
+
+He had been fooled, heartlessly, callously fooled. The bitterest
+thoughts he had ever had of her were all too gentle in the face of this
+final revelation. She was false to her finger-tips, a syren in cunning,
+a viper in venom.
+
+At the door of the hut he stopped to stand staring out into the dark in
+the direction whither she had gone.
+
+The last echo of the click-clock of Gale's trotting horses had died
+away; the bush lay mysterious and motionless under the silent veil of
+night; no sound came to him save the heavy breathing of the wounded man
+asleep in the hut; but through his brain, with the deadening monotony of
+numbing drumbeats, there throbbed the mocking, taunting words, "Fooled!
+Fooled! Fooled!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+MRS. BURKE'S REBUFF
+
+
+When Harding returned to the bank the next morning, he presented such a
+careworn appearance that Wallace was genuinely concerned.
+
+"Hullo," he exclaimed, "you look as if you had had enough of acting
+night-nurse to wounded men. It has been too much for you, my lad."
+
+"It has been an anxious night," Harding replied. "At first both were
+fairly well, but towards morning old Mr. Dudgeon became very bad. You
+have heard all about the affair, I suppose?"
+
+"I have had a visit from Mr. Gale. There was only one thing he could
+talk about. You will guess what that was. The heroism of Mrs. Eustace."
+
+A cloud came over Harding's face at the mention of her name.
+
+"I have a message for her from the doctor. She offered to return to-day
+if he wanted her help. He asked me to let her know how bad the old man
+had been, and is, and say he would be glad if she could go out at once.
+I've had no sleep all night and am fairly tired out. If you don't mind,
+I'll go and have a few hours' rest."
+
+"Why, of course, my lad, I'll manage the office by myself all right. Go
+and get all the sleep you can. You have earned it."
+
+"Will you let her know what the doctor said?"
+
+"I'll send word to Mr. Gale--I've no doubt he'll let her know," Wallace
+said with a short laugh.
+
+"But isn't she here?"
+
+"No. Gale said the place was in darkness when they passed and rather
+than disturb me she went on to the hotel, where they put her up. Very
+considerate of her, I must admit. She seems to have made the most of her
+time on the drive back with Gale, for he knew all about her having to
+leave the bank premises, and told me he had secured a vacant cottage
+there is in the township for her. But don't waste time talking, my lad.
+You look worn out. Go and get to bed for a few hours. I'll see she has
+the doctor's message."
+
+Harding went to his room with heavy steps. He locked the door and sat
+down, took the crumpled letter out of his pocket and read it through
+again.
+
+Then, sitting on the side of the bed with the letter in his hand, he
+stared at it as he asked himself once more the question which had been
+haunting him since the first rush of indignation passed.
+
+What should he do with it?
+
+Had the letter come into his possession the night of the scene in the
+boudoir, he would have had no hesitation. But much had happened since
+then. He had learned what he believed was the truth about the Eustace
+marriage; he had learned that the love he had treasured so dearly was
+still his. It was the latter which made it so hard for him to know what
+course to follow.
+
+A doubt had come into his mind, a doubt which operated in her favour. To
+hand the note over to the police was to admit he had no faith left in
+her, and he had faith. He could not bring himself to regard her as being
+so absolutely conscienceless as the circumstances suggested. Rather did
+he lean towards the idea that, after all, despite the evidence of the
+facts as they stood, she was innocent. And on that point he wanted to be
+sure rather than sorry.
+
+The opinion of another would be a help to him in coming to the right
+conclusion, but to whom could he turn?
+
+He dare not consult Wallace, who was already prejudiced against her;
+Brennan was out of the question. There was only one other--Durham--and
+he was out of reach, and would be so for some time to come.
+
+So the matter came back to where it started, and Harding, urged one way
+by his love and another by his reason, ultimately adopted a middle
+course.
+
+He determined to confront her with the letter, and tear the mask of
+hypocrisy from her face--if one were there--at the first opportunity.
+For the present the letter should be placed where no one but himself
+could find it.
+
+Taking off his coat, he cut through the seam of the lining, placed the
+letter inside, stitched it to the lining and resewed the seam.
+
+"I will not condemn her unheard," he said. "She shall have the chance of
+defending herself to me before I denounce her. But, if this is true,
+then God help her--and me too."
+
+He flung himself on the bed. He was too tired to worry further. The
+irksome question was shelved--for the moment there was peace, and before
+that moment passed Harding was sound asleep.
+
+Before he awakened, Mrs. Eustace visited the bank, received the doctor's
+message and went on her way to Taloona.
+
+She came with Gale.
+
+"Has Mr. Harding returned yet?" she asked, before Wallace could speak.
+"He was to bring me word whether the doctor wanted me to help to-day."
+
+"He came in about half an hour ago, utterly worn out. I have sent him to
+bed for a few hours," Wallace replied. "He left a message for you--old
+Mr. Dudgeon is very bad, and the doctor sent word that if you could go
+out at once it would be a great help to him."
+
+"Of course I'll go," she exclaimed. "Mr. Gale, you offered to drive me
+if I were wanted. Will you go for the buggy while I get some things
+together to take with me?"
+
+She turned to Wallace when Gale had left the office.
+
+"I suppose you have no objection to my going upstairs?"
+
+"None whatever," he answered.
+
+"I will get what things I want. The others can be taken away later to
+the cottage I am renting. I will give Mr. Gale a list, as he very kindly
+offered to see to the removal if I had to go out to Taloona again."
+
+He held the door open while she passed into the residence portion of the
+building, and closed it after her. He was not a lady's man, even under
+the best of circumstances; with the conviction that Eustace was the
+culprit, not only in the bank robbery, but also in the outrage at
+Taloona, he wished to have as little to say to her as possible. The
+sooner she was out of the place the better he would be pleased.
+
+As he returned to his work, which, at the moment, was a lengthy report
+he was preparing for despatch to the head office in condemnation of
+Eustace, she went through to the kitchen, where she found Bessie.
+
+"I am leaving the bank to-day, Bessie, and all my things are going away.
+I have taken Smart's cottage and am going to live there. Although I
+engaged you, if you think you will do better for yourself by staying
+here, don't let me prevent you."
+
+"Stay on here, Mrs. Eustace? What, after you've gone? No, ma'am, no! If
+you don't want me any longer, there may be someone else in Waroona who
+does, but if this is the only place where I can stay, I'm off to
+Wyalla," Bessie exclaimed.
+
+"I would not like them to think I took you away, Bessie."
+
+"I'm not the Bank's servant; I'm yours. Shall I help you get the
+furniture ready now?"
+
+"No, not just at once. I am going out to Taloona to help the doctor
+nurse Mr. Dudgeon. I only want to take enough with me for a few days.
+Mr. Gale will arrange for removing the rest, but I would like you to see
+they are all taken."
+
+"I'll see that they're taken, and go with them, too, Mrs. Eustace. I
+don't want to stay in a place where everything I do is spied on and made
+bad of. Let me come and help you now."
+
+By the time they had packed a small box, Gale drove up in front of the
+bank.
+
+"I'll take this down," Bessie exclaimed. "It's not heavy."
+
+Mrs. Eustace followed her out of the room.
+
+At the door she stopped. On the other side of the landing was Harding's
+room. She glanced at the closed door.
+
+Stepping over to it, she tapped. There was no response. She turned the
+handle; the door was locked.
+
+She did not want to go without a word for him. She opened her bag to see
+if she had a scrap of paper or a card on which she could scribble a
+line. As she did so, Bessie came up the stairs to ask if there was
+anything else she could do.
+
+"No, that is all, Bessie. You might tell Mr. Harding I have gone. He is
+asleep at present."
+
+Bessie sniffed, with her nose in the air, as she followed her mistress
+down the stairs. Tell Mr. Harding? Tell the man who was, in Bessie's
+mind, the person solely responsible for the indignity placed upon her
+and Mrs. Eustace of being locked in their own rooms by Constable
+Brennan! All the message he would ever receive through her would do him
+good, she told herself.
+
+In the office Wallace heard the buggy drive away and caught a glimpse of
+it as it passed the door. Mrs. Eustace was sitting beside Gale, looking
+up at him and smiling.
+
+The sound of another vehicle driving up to the door interrupted him. He
+looked up from his work as Mrs. Burke came into the office.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Wallace," she exclaimed, "I've looked in as I was
+passing, to inquire what is the latest news about the scoundrels. Have
+they got them yet? Is there any word of my papers?"
+
+"Have you not heard? Has no one----"
+
+"Heard? Heard what? Heavens about us, man, you're not going to tell me
+my papers have been destroyed?"
+
+"Oh, no, I'm not going to tell you that, Mrs. Burke. As the news is all
+over the place, I fancied you must have heard it also. I forgot you were
+away in the bush. Taloona was stuck up last night and burnt to the
+ground; old Mr. Dudgeon was shot and is lying dangerously ill, while
+Mr. Durham had his skull fractured and is at death's door."
+
+Mrs. Burke reeled.
+
+"Oh, my God!" she gasped.
+
+Before Wallace could reach her she lurched heavily forward and fell,
+striking her face against the edge of the counter.
+
+Rushing to the door leading to the house, Wallace called to Bessie.
+
+"Come quickly," he cried, "Mrs. Burke has fainted."
+
+He was raising her from the floor as Bessie came.
+
+"Help me to get her into the dining-room," he exclaimed. "What a silly
+woman! I'm afraid she has hurt her face rather badly. She struck it
+against the counter."
+
+Bessie lent a somewhat unwilling aid. She disliked Mrs. Burke as
+cordially as she disliked Wallace, but she helped to support the
+semi-conscious woman, and undertook to revive her as soon as they had
+placed her on the sofa.
+
+Wallace returned to the office, leaving the two together. Presently Mrs.
+Burke came back, pale and agitated, and with a pronounced discolouration
+on her face where it had come in contact with the counter.
+
+"I must apologise, Mr. Wallace," she began, as soon as she entered the
+office. "Sure it's only us poor weak women who know the cruel pain of
+an unexpected blow. You'll not believe me, but when I heard the
+terrible news, it just turned my heart to stone, it did. Poor Mr.
+Durham! A fine, brave, clever gentleman if ever there was one, Mr.
+Wallace, and to think of him with all his brains scattered. It's no
+wonder I fainted."
+
+"But I did not tell you that, Mrs. Burke. I said his skull was
+fractured, and that he is at death's door."
+
+"Well, isn't that what I was saying?"
+
+"No. I did not say his brains were knocked out. As a matter of fact,
+they are all in his head where I hope they will always remain, so that
+he can complete his task of catching your friends who were so
+considerate as to carry off your papers."
+
+"My friends, do you call them, Mr. Wallace? Sure I'd teach them a new
+form of friendship if I had my hands on them for a few minutes. But tell
+me now, what's being done with those poor wounded creatures? The girl
+told me the old man had had his leg blown off. Well, well! He won't
+refuse a chair next time he comes to see you, I'll wager. Or maybe he'll
+have his twenty-five thousand sovereigns made into a special wooden leg
+to take the place of the other live one he's lost."
+
+"His leg was not blown off--he was shot."
+
+"It's all the same. He won't be able to walk about any more, and sure
+that's bad enough for any man to have to put up with, isn't it, Mr.
+Wallace? How would you like to have it happen to you now? Having to go
+about on a wooden stump or just sit about in the same place from
+morning to night and never a chance of stretching a leg or crossing the
+road."
+
+"But it's not that at all, Mrs. Burke," Wallace exclaimed impatiently.
+"What I said was----"
+
+"Oh, I know, I know," she interrupted. "Well now, don't you think it a
+terrible thing for them to be lying out there without a single woman's
+hand to soothe them in their agony? Only a doctor to look after them and
+maybe a bushman or so to boil a billy and make some tea between whiles.
+It's more than I can bear to think of, Mr. Wallace."
+
+"You don't feel faint again, do you?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, no, not at all, Mr. Wallace. Bessie was very good to me. She would
+be better out there helping to relieve those poor wounded creatures
+instead of idling away her time here, I think; but still, she does her
+best, poor thing, such as it is. But do you know what I thought of
+doing? As soon as I heard the news I said to myself, there was only one
+thing I could do unless I were just a mere bloodless image of a woman.
+I'm going to drive straight away now to Taloona and soothe the pain of
+those poor unfortunates. It's the sound of a woman's voice that is
+cheering to a lonely man when he's in pain, Mr. Wallace."
+
+"Is it?" Wallace said curtly. "I hope you are right, Mrs. Burke, for you
+see Mrs. Eustace is there already."
+
+"Mrs. Eustace! Out at Taloona? Mr. Wallace, it's enough to bring down
+the wrath of Heaven to think of that woman--that--well, I'll not say
+it; but there's her husband robbing me of my papers and the bank of its
+money and maybe robbing and murdering that poor old gentleman as well,
+and she--she of all women on the face of the earth--nursing his victims
+back for him to slay a second time. Sure, I'd--oh, I'd--I don't know
+what I wouldn't do, Mr. Wallace, to a woman like that."
+
+"It will be an interesting meeting between you," Wallace observed drily.
+"I am sorry I cannot come to see it."
+
+"But it's not the old gentleman she's after, Mr. Wallace. I suppose they
+robbed him of his gold?"
+
+"I don't know, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"Oh, you may be sure they did. So there's no more to be had out of him;
+but what would it be worth to that villain of a husband of hers if
+Sub-Inspector Durham were below ground? The only chance I have of ever
+seeing my papers again, Mr. Wallace, is with him. I'll go and drive him
+out to Waroona Downs and nurse him myself. I'll not let it be said that
+Nora Burke forgot a friend in his hour of need."
+
+"I am afraid the doctor will not let him be moved. I suggested bringing
+them in here, but Mr. Gale tells me the doctor said it would be fatal to
+move either at present."
+
+"Then I'll stay and nurse him there. Sure it's that woman I'll watch.
+I'll go away at once."
+
+He did not detain her. He did not even suggest she was going on a
+useless journey. But he sighed deeply as she left the office.
+
+"Little wonder she is a widow," he murmured to himself. "I wonder how
+long the late Mr. Burke managed to survive it? I hope they keep her at
+Taloona for a month."
+
+But she did not reach there that day.
+
+On the way she met Gale returning.
+
+"And what's the news of the poor injured creatures?" she cried as she
+reined in.
+
+Gale shook his head.
+
+"You were not thinking of going out there, were you?" he asked.
+
+"I'm going out to do what I can to soothe the suffering of the
+unfortunates," she answered. "Mr. Wallace was telling me. What a
+frightful thing to happen to them, Mr. Gale. Sure the awful news was too
+much for me to bear, and I just fell like one dead at the sound of it.
+You'll see the mark on my face. They tell me I fell against the counter
+in the bank and might have killed myself entirely with the terrible
+smash I came against the wretched sharp edge, only that I struck it with
+my face instead of the back of my head, though it's little thanks to the
+bank, seeing the way they made the clumsy thing."
+
+"It's no use your going out to Taloona," Gale exclaimed. "No one is
+allowed near the huts where they are. The doctor and Mrs. Eustace are
+the only persons allowed to see the patients."
+
+"And by what right is that woman there?"
+
+"The best right of all, Mrs. Burke. Had it not been for her splendid
+courage, they would both have been dead long before the doctor could
+reach them. She is the only one Mr. Dudgeon will bear near him."
+
+"Oh."
+
+For once the voluble Irish tongue was reduced to the use of a simple
+monosyllable, but into the word there was thrown as much venom as would
+have taken a hundred of the snakes St. Patrick banished from the island
+to supply.
+
+"So it is fortunate I met you, otherwise you would have had a drive for
+nothing," Gale added.
+
+"And how's the sub-inspector?"
+
+"The doctor tells me he is doing as well as one can expect."
+
+"I was going to see if I could not take one of them out to Waroona
+Downs--it's good nursing they'll want, and that they'll get if they're
+in a place where they are properly looked after."
+
+"They are getting that now," Gale retorted shortly.
+
+"I'll go and see for myself."
+
+"If you want to tire your horse, do so, but that is all which will
+happen."
+
+"And why am I to be shut out when that woman is allowed to be there,
+with her husband probably hanging about the place all the time to see
+who else there is to shoot and maim?"
+
+"You have no right to say that," Gale cried angrily. "There is only
+suspicion against her husband, and even if there were more, it would
+not affect her. A noble-hearted woman such as she is should have
+sympathy, not unjust accusation."
+
+"Sure Mr. Eustace would be pleased to know how well his deserted wife is
+getting on with all the admirers she has in the place traipsing after
+her wherever she goes," she retorted.
+
+"You cannot go on even if you wish to," Gale exclaimed. "One of the
+troopers will stop you before you reach the huts."
+
+"Oh, the troopers are there too, are they? It's well to be a miserly old
+skinflint to have the State providing troopers at the ratepayers'
+expense to watch over one. Or maybe they're also giving sympathy to the
+poor distressed lady. Well, I'll interrupt them."
+
+"You will do nothing of the kind, Mrs. Burke. I tell you the doctor sent
+to stop me from driving up to the huts where they are. You would do no
+good by going there; you may do a great deal of harm."
+
+"Oh, indeed. And pray what is there about me that is likely to do harm
+to any man?"
+
+"You know Mr. Dudgeon's character. The doctor says he is in a most
+critical condition. For him to see you now would probably mean his
+death. You remember how bitterly he resented the sale of Waroona Downs
+to you--your presence now would only irritate him and then----" he
+shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"My presence? And what of the presence of the woman whose husband----"
+
+"You must not say that," Gale exclaimed quickly. "It is
+unjust--unwomanly----"
+
+The grey eyes flashed like steel.
+
+"Unwomanly?" she cried. "Me unwomanly?"
+
+She snatched up the buggy whip and in her anger cut at him, but the lash
+fell short, striking one of the horses. The animal plunged at the sting
+and its companion also started.
+
+By the time Gale had them under control, Mrs. Burke was vanishing down
+the road in a cloud of dust.
+
+Where the track to the station branched off the main road one of the
+troopers met and stopped her. The man recognised her from the previous
+day.
+
+"Very sorry, Mrs. Burke," he said, "but I've been sent to stop anyone
+going near the place."
+
+"Why can't I go? I want to know how they are and whether I can't help to
+nurse them," she said.
+
+"They're both pretty bad, I believe," the trooper answered. "I don't
+think you could do anything now, because there's the doctor and Mrs.
+Eustace and my mate looking after them. But I'll tell the doctor, and
+maybe to-morrow----"
+
+Mrs. Burke slowly wheeled her horse.
+
+"I shall not come to-morrow," she said. "It is evident I'm not wanted.
+But I shall come in a few days and take one of them away with me to my
+house. I'm sure Mr. Durham would be much better away from here. Tell the
+doctor I say so. Who is taking Mr. Durham's place?"
+
+"Taking up his work do you mean?"
+
+"Yes--who is looking for the man who stole my deeds from the bank? Why
+aren't you doing it, instead of wasting your time here?"
+
+"Oh, that'll be all right, Mrs. Burke. We've got a clue--don't you be
+uneasy."
+
+"I shall be uneasy until Mr. Durham is able to look after it again. He
+is the only hope I have of ever seeing my papers again."
+
+"You're right," the trooper exclaimed. "He's the smartest man for the
+job there is. That's why he's lying there now--we know for certain he
+was on their track when he got here, and as soon as they saw who it was
+after them, they went for him. It wasn't the fault of the chap who tried
+to brain him that the sub-inspector is alive to-day."
+
+"He is very badly hurt?" Mrs. Burke asked.
+
+"The chap who hit him saw to that--I'd just like to have my hands on him
+for a few minutes, the mean hound. There was probably more than one, and
+while the sub-inspector was facing the others, this one must have crept
+up behind him and tried to brain him from the back. But we'll get him,
+and then he will know something."
+
+"You think you will catch them?"
+
+"Catch them? Of course we shall. But it's the chap who knocked the
+sub-inspector on the head we want mostly."
+
+"You'll punish him when you do catch him?" she asked, with a gleam in
+her eyes.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed.
+
+She leaned forward.
+
+"I hope you do," she said. "I would--if I were a man--even if they had
+not stolen my papers."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+AS THROUGH A MIST
+
+
+Wallace had scarcely completed his report when once more he was
+interrupted by Gale entering the office.
+
+"Mrs. Eustace has given me this order to remove all her belongings at
+once," he said, as he entered the office and handed the order to
+Wallace.
+
+"Very good. I'll tell the girl to bring them downstairs. Will you be at
+the front door?"
+
+"Tell the girl?" Gale remarked. "You don't think it's a girl's job, do
+you, to move a houseful of furniture?"
+
+"There's no furniture; there is nothing here belonging to Mrs. Eustace
+beyond her clothing, and some few odds and ends, I suppose?"
+
+"Then you know very little about the matter, Mr. Wallace. Everything
+beyond that door belongs to Mrs. Eustace; everything in the residence
+portion of this building is hers absolutely, her own personal private
+property. Even that lamp on your table is hers. I have it down on my
+list."
+
+"Oh, that is nonsense, utter nonsense," Wallace exclaimed pompously.
+"The furniture is the property of the Bank."
+
+"The furniture is not the property of the Bank. Ask Mr. Harding."
+
+"He is asleep at present, but----"
+
+"Then he had better get up, because I am about to remove the bed on
+which he is sleeping. It belongs to Mrs. Eustace; so do the blankets,
+the sheets, the coverlet, everything, in fact, even to the towels in his
+room."
+
+"What absolute preposterous nonsense!" Wallace replied. "I never heard
+of such a thing. The Bank always provides furniture for its branches."
+
+"And does the Bank always allow the wife of a branch manager so much a
+year for the use of that furniture, napery, linen, cutlery, and the
+rest?"
+
+"Why ask such a ridiculous question?"
+
+"Because Mrs. Eustace has been paid such an allowance since she has been
+in Waroona. Refer to the office records. They will show you whether it
+is so or not."
+
+Wallace turned to the book-racks, and pulled down the ledger. Running
+his eye down the index, he saw the item "Furniture Account." Opening the
+book at the page indicated, he read enough to prove to him that Gale's
+statement was correct.
+
+"Then all I have to say is, that it is extremely unusual," he said, as
+he slammed the book, and returned it to its place.
+
+"I am not concerned in that, Mr. Wallace. All I know are the facts. Now
+that you are also satisfied, you will see the work is hardly what a girl
+can carry out. I'll send half a dozen men down at once."
+
+"But," Wallace exclaimed, looking up aghast, "you don't mean to say you
+are going to remove everything?"
+
+"Mrs. Eustace has given me her order to remove all her belongings. That,
+I understand, includes everything in the living portion of the premises,
+and the lamp now standing on your table."
+
+"But what am I to do? What is Harding to do? We cannot sleep on the bare
+boards and eat our meals raw."
+
+"I don't see what concern that is of mine. You requested Mrs. Eustace to
+vacate these premises at once, and she is doing as you asked. It is not
+for you to complain, surely?"
+
+"It is, under the circumstances, most decidedly it is. Someone must
+always be on the premises after what has occurred; but if there is
+nothing on which to sleep, what can be done? Mrs. Eustace knew the
+furniture belonged to her and should have said so."
+
+"I am afraid I cannot agree with you," Gale replied. "You should have
+known the furniture was hers. Your one desire, it seems to me, was to
+vent on her head the wrath of the Bank at what may, or may not have
+been, her husband's fault. Whether it added to the trouble she already
+had did not matter to you in the slightest. But directly you find that
+your spite recoils on yourself and entails some inconvenience for you,
+there is a very different tale to tell. Personally I am very glad to
+think you can be inconvenienced. You had better have Harding called, as
+I shall be back in half an hour with my men. Oh, by the by, the servant
+is engaged by Mrs. Eustace, not by the Bank. She will leave with the
+furniture."
+
+He enjoyed the look of consternation on Wallace's face. The banker could
+not deceive himself. Gale held him in a cleft stick.
+
+"But this cannot go on," he exclaimed. "Mrs. Eustace must see how
+unreasonable it is. The Bank is entitled to at least a month's notice,
+before the things can be removed."
+
+"It is the Bank that gave the notice. Mrs. Eustace was told to go at
+once. Well, she waived her right to demand time and said she would go at
+once. Now you blame her!"
+
+"Will she sell the furniture?"
+
+"No, she will not."
+
+"I shall go to Taloona and see about it."
+
+"It will not assist you if you do. In the first place, you will not be
+able to see her, and, in the second, even if you did see her, you would
+only learn that the matter has been placed in my hands."
+
+"Then, if it is in your hands, deal with it as a reasonable business
+man. While Mrs. Eustace remains at Taloona she will not require the
+furniture; it will be at least a couple of weeks before we can have any
+sent up to serve us. How much does Mrs. Eustace want for the hire of
+what is in the house at present?"
+
+"Twenty pounds a week," Gale replied, without moving a muscle, even when
+Wallace flared up at the proposal.
+
+"Utterly preposterous," he cried. "Ten shillings a week was what was
+allowed her. That amount is ample."
+
+"You are the buyer, not the seller, Mr. Wallace. You pay twenty pounds a
+week, or the furniture goes. Even at that sum I consider that Mrs.
+Eustace is placing the Bank under a distinct obligation to her."
+
+There was no escape; reluctantly Wallace admitted it, and agreed to the
+terms, humiliating though they were. But it was still more humiliating
+for him to learn the following day that Mrs. Eustace declined to accept
+anything whatever, but allowed the Bank to use the furniture and retain
+the services of Bessie until other arrangements could be made.
+
+"What is the game she is playing?" he said to Harding. "Is it all part
+of some elaborate scheme between herself and her husband, or is she
+really sincere?"
+
+The letter sewn into the lining of his coat seemed to burn itself into
+Harding's back. Was it all part of an elaborate scheme, part of the
+"everything" she had to do "as arranged"? If he could only be sure!
+
+"I don't know what to make of it," he answered. "I don't know." But
+while they were speculating at the bank as to the sincerity or
+insincerity of Mrs. Eustace, she was driving her own troubles from her
+mind by the constant and unremitting care of a taciturn and exacting
+patient.
+
+For the first two or three days after the bullet was extracted from his
+leg, Dudgeon was in a high state of fever. In his semi-delirium he
+babbled incessantly of Kitty, grew dangerously excited whenever the
+doctor came near him, and would only be pacified by the presence of Mrs.
+Eustace. In his lucid intervals he told her over and over again the
+story of his betrayal; when his mind wandered, he regarded her as the
+Kitty he had known before the shattering of his life's romance. It was
+difficult for her to decide which experience was the more trying.
+
+Later, when the fever left him, he was as a child in her hands,
+listening while she read or talked to him, taking anything she brought
+him without demur, and only showing signs of impatience when she left
+the hut for a while.
+
+Consequently, she was unable to give any attention to Durham, and as the
+days slipped by the doctor began to chafe, for there were patients
+scattered through the bush whom he was anxious to visit, but he could
+not go away and leave both men to Mrs. Eustace to nurse.
+
+It was at this juncture that Mrs. Burke put her threat into execution,
+and drove over to Taloona in a big old-fashioned waggonette with Patsy
+perched on the box and a store of blankets inside.
+
+"I've come to do my share of the work," she told the doctor. "They
+stopped me from coming before--I was turned back by a trooper a mile
+from the house. But I'm tired of waiting for word how the poor fellows
+are, and have just come to take one of them away with me."
+
+She had driven right up to the huts, and the sound of her voice
+penetrated both. Old Dudgeon, striving to sit up, stared at Mrs. Eustace
+with gleaming eyes.
+
+"That devil," he muttered. "It's her voice. I'd know it in a million.
+Keep her away! Don't let her come near me, or I'll----"
+
+"Hush, you must not get excited," Mrs. Eustace said, as she gently
+pushed him back. "No one is coming in here. I'll see to that. I'll shut
+the door and bolt them out."
+
+In the other hut the patient's eyes also gleamed, but with a different
+light. The forced inaction, the solitude, the wearying monotony of lying
+still, to one accustomed to a life full of incident and action, was more
+than trying; but when, as was the case with Durham, there was urgent and
+engrossing work to be done, the compulsory delay aggravated the evils of
+the injury he had sustained.
+
+Through the long hours he chafed against the helplessness which
+prevented him from following up the clue he had already obtained, but
+still more did he chafe against his inability to renew his acquaintance
+with the woman who had fascinated him.
+
+He was anxious to make headway in her estimation so that he would have
+some understanding, however slight, with her when the recovery of her
+papers and the winning of the reward gave him the opportunity of
+offering her marriage. His impatience bred many fancies in his mind.
+Daily he pictured to himself the danger of someone else becoming his
+rival in her affections.
+
+Were he free to see her he did not fear defeat; but while he was lying
+helpless at Taloona anything might be happening at Waroona Downs.
+
+That morning the doctor had told him it would be weeks before he would
+be well enough to resume work if he did not make more rapid progress. He
+had poured out professional platitudes against the folly of fretting and
+worrying against the inevitable, but neither his platitudes nor the
+soundness of his reasoning could still the eager longing which was at
+the root of the patient's retarded convalescence.
+
+If he could only see her the days would not be so blank; even to hear of
+or from her would be something; but this complete separation, this
+seemingly hopeless isolation racked him with impatience. Wherefore the
+sound of her voice breaking in upon his mournful reveries, of which she
+was the central figure, made his heart leap with delight.
+
+Come to take one of them away with her! Saving that his head swam so
+much when he moved he would have crawled out of his bunk and appealed to
+her that he should be the one, lest the other should be before him.
+
+He strove to catch something more of the conversation carried on between
+her and the doctor, but their voices were not sufficiently loud for him
+to hear more than the sound of them. The creaking of the door as it
+opened made him turn his eyes as the doctor came in.
+
+"I've a visitor to see you. Do you think you can stand it?" he asked.
+
+Over the doctor's shoulder Durham caught a glimpse of Mrs. Burke, and
+the smile that rippled over his face was all the answer he had time to
+give before she stood beside him.
+
+"Oh, the poor, poor fellow," she exclaimed softly. "Sure he's just
+pining for a change of air and a sight of the bush once more. It's
+Waroona Downs that's the place where he can get what he wants and
+recover so as to catch those villains that have done him so much harm.
+I've come to fetch you, Mr. Durham. I've a waggonette outside and a
+storeful of blankets, and Patsy to drive--sure he can't go faster than a
+funeral at the best, so there's no fear of any jolting on the way. If
+you want to come, the doctor says you may, and he'll ride along later
+and see you are all fixed up before he goes after his other patients who
+are all dying, poor things, without his help one way or the other."
+
+Would he go? His pale cheeks flushed at the chance of escape from the
+deadly solitude of the past few days. Anywhere would be better than
+inside that bare, cheerless hut, anything preferable to lying on the
+hard wooden bunk with only a blanket over him, and only an occasional
+flying visit from Mrs. Eustace and the periodical dosing by the doctor.
+But Waroona Downs with the woman he was beginning to idolise daily with
+him!
+
+"Will you come?" she asked softly, as he did not speak.
+
+"If I only could," he answered.
+
+"There, doctor, you heard him? I'll tell Patsy to spread the blankets on
+the floor of the waggonette, and sure he'll never know he's moving till
+he's there."
+
+"It may shake you up a bit," the doctor said, as Mrs. Burke left the
+hut. "But I must get away to a case to-morrow, and the old man is as
+much as any woman can look after. Do you think you can stand the drive?"
+
+"I'd stand anything to get out of this place," Durham answered. "If you
+think I can stand it, I'm satisfied."
+
+"Oh, you're tough enough to stand anything," the doctor replied. "You
+could not be alive to-day if you had not the constitution of a
+steam-engine. They'd charge me with manslaughter down in one of the
+cities, moving a man who had barely had a week's rest after a crack in
+his skull; but we have to take things as they come in the bush, my lad,
+and it's mostly rough at the best."
+
+New life seemed already to have come to him, and when they had placed
+him in the waggonette, lying comfortably on the pile of blankets Mrs.
+Burke had spread, the wan weariness had gone and Durham smiled up into
+the face that looked down on him with so much softness in the
+dark-lashed eyes.
+
+Overhead the sky was blue as turquoise, and the clear sunlit air fanned
+him with a faint breeze redolent with the aromatic perfumes which float
+through the atmosphere of the bush. The horses moved along at the
+slowest pace they could manage beyond a walk, and the gentle sway of the
+waggonette on its easy, old-fashioned springs lulled Durham into a
+delightful sense of restfulness and content. Gradually his eyelids grew
+heavy and drooped; peaceful, restful, he floated away into slumber as
+easily as though he had been a child rocked in a cradle.
+
+The sunlight had given place to the shade of evening when he opened his
+eyes. The rhythmic beat of the horses' hoofs blended harmoniously with
+the sway of the vehicle in which he was travelling, and the cool air was
+filled with a delicious fragrance. He awakened with so keen a sense of
+vitality that for the moment he forgot he was an invalid, and made an
+effort to rise. But the strength he felt in his muscles was only the
+trick of his imagination; he could barely lift his head.
+
+But that was sufficient to show him that he was in the waggonette alone.
+The seat where Mrs. Burke had been when his eyes closed was unoccupied.
+He turned sufficiently to look at the box-seat. A figure loomed through
+the dusk, but it seemed more sturdy than the withered frame of old
+Patsy.
+
+He made another effort to sit up. It was not entirely successful, but it
+enabled him to see out of the vehicle. Away behind them the dark shadow
+of the range between the township and Waroona Downs rose against the
+sky.
+
+"Where is Mrs. Burke?" he called, turning his face towards the form of
+the driver.
+
+The horses stopped, and the figure on the box leaned back as a merry
+laugh came down to him.
+
+"Oh, are you awake then? Sure I thought you were asleep for good and all
+the way you never moved all the journey. And did you think I had
+vanished and left you to the tender mercies of that old fool? Well, now,
+that's a poor compliment to yourself surely, to think I'd run away from
+you as soon as I saw your eyes were closed. No, no, I've got charge of
+you till you are well and strong again, though maybe I'll have hard work
+to shunt you at all then, you'll be so used to being nursed. But I had
+to come and drive while I sent the old man on ahead to get the door open
+and a fire alight so as to give you something hot to cheer you as soon
+as you reached the house."
+
+"But he cannot walk quicker than we are going?"
+
+"Going? Why, we're standing still. So we were at the top of the hill
+where the horses, poor beasts, wanted a long rest to get their wind
+again, seeing how they had come all the way without as much as a five
+minutes' break since we started. You were sleeping through it all so
+peacefully I had not the heart to disturb you, but sent the old man on
+ahead while I climbed up here. Sure we're nearly there; I can see the
+light of the lamp shining out of the window. Just keep quiet and rest
+now till we're there."
+
+She started the horses again, and Durham lay back on his blankets till
+he felt the waggonette turn off the main road and drive slowly up to the
+house.
+
+As it stopped, he managed to raise himself into a sitting position.
+There was a momentary humming in his head, and he gripped the seats to
+steady himself. The cessation of the noise made by the moving wheels and
+trotting horses accentuated to his ears the still silence of the night.
+So quiet was it that as the humming passed from him the creaking of the
+springs when Mrs. Burke swung herself down from the box-seat seemed an
+actual noise.
+
+Patsy's heavy tread echoed on the bare boards of the verandah. For a
+second they stopped, and through Durham's brain there rang a curious
+stifled sound, something like a cry coming from afar, a cry indistinct
+and choked as if it were muffled.
+
+The loud tones of Mrs. Burke's voice, speaking quickly and decisively,
+drowned it before the dulled brain could either locate whence it came or
+decide whether it was anything more than a variation of the humming in
+his ears.
+
+"Come along now, Patsy. Hasten, you slow old fool. Don't you know Mr.
+Durham will be tired?"
+
+The old man stumbled and blundered down the steps, and Mrs. Burke came
+to the end of the waggonette.
+
+"Oh, now, now! Sure is it wise to do that?" she exclaimed, as she saw
+Durham sitting up. "Why didn't you wait till we could help you?"
+
+She leaned in and took hold of his arm.
+
+"If you back the waggonette against the steps, I can get out easier," he
+said.
+
+"Of course, of course. Now then, Patsy, why didn't you think of that?"
+she exclaimed. "Turn the horses round while I stay with Mr. Durham."
+
+She sat on the floor of the vehicle, still holding Durham's arm.
+
+The touch of her hands, the sound of her voice as she maintained a
+steady stream of directions to Patsy, the fact of being so near to her,
+filled Durham with a gentle soothing. The dreaminess which had been upon
+him when the journey began, and before he sank into the contented
+slumber, returned. Her voice reached him as from a distance; his grip of
+the seats loosened, and as the waggonette turned he swayed until his
+head drooped upon the shoulder of the woman by his side.
+
+Thereafter all was vague and misty until he came to himself and knew he
+was ascending the short flight of steps leading to the verandah, with
+Mrs. Burke supporting him on one side and Patsy the other.
+
+As he reached the verandah his legs trembled beneath him, and he stood
+for a moment, leaning heavily upon the arms which supported him.
+
+Again there came to his dulled brain the sound like a distant stifled
+cry.
+
+"What's that?" he muttered. "What's that?"
+
+"Oh, lean on me. Don't fall now. Oh, keep up, keep up. Sure what will
+the doctor say when he comes if you've hurt yourself?" the voice of Mrs.
+Burke said in his ear.
+
+"But that--that cry," he gasped. A cold shiver ran through him.
+
+"There's no cry; there's nothing but me and old Patsy. Keep up, now. If
+you're worse, oh, what will the doctor say?"
+
+The glare from the lamp shining through the open window grew dim; the
+floor of the verandah rose and fell; his arms dropped nerveless to his
+sides and, with the faint muffled cry still ringing in his ears, Durham
+went down into oblivion.
+
+Once the veil partly lifted, and he saw, as through a mist, Mrs. Burke
+standing defiantly before a man who slunk away out of the room while she
+turned quickly and came to the couch where he was lying and bent over
+him. As in a dream he felt her cool hand touch his brow and her face
+come close to him.
+
+"Oh, why? Why?" he heard her whisper. "Why have you come into my
+life--now--to bring love to me? Better if I were dead; but I cannot let
+you go, I cannot! Oh, my love, why have you come so late to me?"
+
+Her lips were pressed to his, her arms encircled his neck, and as he
+thrilled at her touch, at her voice, at her presence, he essayed to
+answer her. But he had no strength even to move his lips in response to
+her kiss, no power to raise a hand. It was as though his will no longer
+had control over his muscles, as though his consciousness were something
+apart from his body, something floating in space, voiceless, nerveless,
+motionless, apart from himself, apart from all save the love she had for
+him, and the love he had for her.
+
+And in the glamour of that love, the bare knowledge that he existed at
+all faded away, until he was as one enveloped in a mist through which
+neither sight nor sound could penetrate.
+
+The sunlight was streaming around him when next he remembered. He was
+lying in a bed in an unfamiliar room. By his side the doctor was
+standing. His first memory was of the stifled cry which had come to him
+as he stepped on to the verandah.
+
+"Ah, you're awake again, are you?" the doctor said cheerily. "Well, how
+do you feel now?"
+
+"Where am I?" Durham asked weakly.
+
+"Oh, you're where you're all right, if you feel all right. Do you?"
+
+"I'm--this isn't the hut."
+
+He glanced round the room which was at once strange and familiar to him.
+
+"Don't you remember leaving there? You ought to. Don't you remember how
+we got you into the waggonette? When we put you on the blankets? Just
+think. You're at Waroona Downs. Mrs. Burke brought you."
+
+"But I--how did I get here?" Durham repeated, glancing again round the
+room. Then it was that the memory of the cry forced itself to the
+front.
+
+"Who was it?" he asked. "Who was it?"
+
+Another figure joined the doctor, and Mrs. Burke looked down at him.
+
+"Who was what?" the doctor asked.
+
+"That cry--the cry I heard," Durham replied.
+
+"There was no cry," the doctor said. "You've been dreaming."
+
+Durham looked from one to the other. As his eyes rested on Mrs. Burke's,
+vaguely there came to him the visionary recollection of her kneeling
+beside him with her arms around him and her lips pressed to his.
+
+"Dreaming?" he said slowly. "Dreaming? Was it all dreaming?"
+
+He was looking straight into her eyes, as he spoke, forgetful of the
+doctor's presence, watching for the return of the soft love-light which
+had filled her eyes in that memoried scene. But no love-light shone from
+them. They were unmoved, cold in their grey-blue depths almost to
+hardness.
+
+"Listen to me, my lad," the doctor said briskly. "The drive in from
+Taloona shook you up a bit, they tell me. Made you delirious, so that
+they had to keep you on the sofa all night watching you. That's where I
+found you when I got here at dawn. But you'll be all right now, I fancy,
+if you keep quiet and don't think about things that never happened.
+You're at Waroona Downs in bed, and Mrs. Burke and that old idiot of a
+doddering Irishman are looking after you. That's all you've got to
+remember."
+
+"Except to get well," Mrs. Burke added.
+
+"Yes, except to get well; and I reckon your nurse will see to that. I'll
+call in again to-morrow or the next day. But remember--no more dreams."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+REVENGE IS SWEET
+
+
+As the days wore on and Durham won his way back to health, he waited in
+vain for a token from Mrs. Burke that the memory which persisted so
+clearly was other than the figment of a dream.
+
+Although she gave him every attention a sick man required, there was
+neither look nor word from her to justify him in believing that the
+memory was of an actual scene. For hours she would be with him, reading
+to him, talking to him, meeting his glance freely and frankly; but never
+was there the veriest hint of the emotion he had seen in her eyes on
+that occasion.
+
+Nor did he hear again the curious stifled cry which had seemed to ring
+in his ears the night he arrived. He was constantly on the alert for it,
+both by night and day, while he was confined to his room and later when
+he was able to get out on to the verandah. But there was no repetition
+of it, until at last he had perforce to accept the doctor's view and
+regard it, as well as the other memory, as merely the vagaries of
+delirium.
+
+But if she gave him nothing whereon to feed the love he had for her,
+that love did not diminish as the days passed. It took a deeper and
+firmer hold upon him until he lived in a veritable Fool's Paradise,
+giving no thought of the morrow, saving that it would be spent with her,
+and forgetting even the task which had brought him to the district. The
+outside world did not obtrude itself upon him, till the doctor declared
+that only once more would he visit him. Then it came with a rush.
+
+A dozen questions forced themselves upon his mind.
+
+Since his arrival at Waroona Downs, no word had reached him from
+Brennan, no mention had been made of the robberies. When, once or twice,
+he had attempted to speak of them, Mrs. Burke told him the doctor's
+orders were that he was not to be allowed to dwell upon anything likely
+to disturb him, and she insisted on carrying out those orders. He had
+always yielded, lest she put into execution the threat she made, to
+leave him to the tender mercies of old Patsy for a whole day. But now
+the injunction was removed, for the doctor himself had asked whether he
+should tell Brennan to come out.
+
+Durham awaited his arrival with impatience. Now that he allowed his mind
+to revert to more prosaic matters than the object of his adoration, he
+concluded that, as he had not been troubled with official detail,
+someone else had been sent up to continue the investigation into the
+mystery.
+
+He ran over the names of the men most likely to be entrusted with the
+work, speculating which one it was, and what course he had followed. He
+hunted for the letter he had found the day he discovered the track
+leading to the lake among the hills, and when he could not find it, he
+inferred that after he had been struck down at Taloona, the two
+marauders had searched him and had recovered what would have been
+invaluable evidence against Eustace.
+
+The excuse Mrs. Burke had put forward for refusing to discuss the matter
+with him suggested she knew he had been superseded; the belief grew in
+his mind that his successor had succeeded in either tracing the stolen
+gold or securing the arrest of Eustace, and perhaps his companion also.
+Mrs. Burke, knowing this, had declined to talk lest she revealed the
+secret and gave him, as she would consider, cause for mental anxiety and
+distress.
+
+It was therefore a great surprise for him to learn from Brennan, as soon
+as he came out, that no one had been sent up to take charge of the case;
+that no arrest had been made, nor clue discovered; but that everything
+had been allowed to remain as it was until such time as he was
+sufficiently recovered to resume duty.
+
+"They should not have done that," he exclaimed. "Look at the time
+wasted."
+
+"I understand the Bank wished it, sir," Brennan answered. "Mr. Wallace
+told me as much. He said he and his directors were satisfied no one
+could solve the riddle as you could, and head-quarters had been asked
+not to put anyone else in charge, but to leave you with an absolutely
+free hand."
+
+"It is very good of them," Durham said. "But still--look at the chance
+it has given the thieves to get away with the gold."
+
+"They haven't gone, sir," Brennan said quietly.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"One of them was seen only last night," Brennan continued in a low tone.
+"He was seen on the Taloona road, riding the white horse. That is what
+puzzles me. How does he hide that horse? It's never been seen in any of
+the paddocks for miles round, for everyone is on the watch for it. And a
+man can't hide a white horse in a hollow log--it must run somewhere some
+time."
+
+"Where is Mrs. Eustace?"
+
+"She's at Smart's cottage. She came in from Taloona yesterday. That's
+what makes it strange, to my mind, this white horse and rider being seen
+on the Taloona road the day she leaves the place."
+
+"Where are the troopers--Conlon and his mate?"
+
+"Went away three days ago, sir, on orders from head-quarters."
+
+"And Mr. Dudgeon?"
+
+"Oh, he's still at Taloona. They say he's pretty well right again,
+except that he limps with a stick."
+
+"I suppose his gold was taken?"
+
+"Every atom of it, sir. We found the spot where it had been dug up under
+the ashes of the house. But that doesn't seem to trouble him very much.
+All he wants is to have the men who stuck up the place caught and
+hanged."
+
+"How did Mrs. Eustace come in?"
+
+"Mr. Gale drove her in, sir. He's been to and fro most every day."
+
+"But he didn't meet the man on the white horse?"
+
+"Yes, sir. It was Mr. Gale who brought me word of it. He said he thought
+it must be Eustace, and asked if he would be justified in shooting him
+if he met him face to face. Mr. Harding asked the same thing."
+
+"Of course, you told them no."
+
+"Well, sir, to tell you the truth, I said it might be the best thing for
+Mrs. Eustace, seeing what the conviction of her husband meant for her,
+but that it might mean a charge of murder if it were done."
+
+Durham sat silent for a time.
+
+"Come out for me to-morrow, will you, Brennan?" he said presently. "I
+can't wait for the doctor. This has got to be dealt with promptly,
+unless we are to lose the game."
+
+When Brennan had gone, Durham sat on the verandah alone. Now that he had
+taken hold of the case again, all the fascination his work had for him
+returned. He became so engrossed in the contemplation of the problem
+that unnoticed the sun went down to leave the young crescent moon
+shedding a fitful light over the silent bush. Unnoticed, also, were the
+sound of footfalls as Mrs. Burke came out on to the verandah.
+
+For a time she stood watching him. Had he turned quickly he might have
+seen in her eyes something of the expression for which he had looked so
+often. But reading the riddle of the robberies was too enthralling a
+subject, and so he missed his opportunity, for when she crossed to the
+hand-rail against which he was sitting, every suggestion of the
+expression had gone from her face.
+
+Standing where the moonlight fell upon her, she leaned against one of
+the verandah posts without speaking. It was then he saw her, and from
+within the shadow he feasted his eyes upon the beauty of her face and
+form so clearly outlined against the soft-toned evening sky.
+
+"Brennan has gone?" she asked, suddenly turning towards him.
+
+"Yes. Brennan has gone. And this--this is my last evening here," he
+answered in a low voice. "To-morrow I resume duty."
+
+He waited for the remark he hoped she would make, but she merely looked
+away over the silvery haze of the bush apparently unmoved, nay, even
+uninterested in the announcement he had made.
+
+"Don't you ever feel compassion for the poor creatures you are chasing
+to their doom?" she asked presently.
+
+"Why should there be compassion for them?" he asked in reply.
+
+"Don't you ever feel it? Don't you ever stop to wonder if only they are
+to blame?"
+
+"I am merely concerned in what they have done. Until they have placed
+themselves in antagonism to the laws of society, I have nothing to do
+with them. When they violate the law, then I am bidden to track them
+down so that they may be made to answer for the wrongs they may have
+done. It would assist neither them nor myself were I to lose myself in
+compassionate consideration of things I know nothing about."
+
+"But surely--you must sometimes feel sorry for them--must pity them in
+their misfortune?"
+
+"There are too many who deserve pity, Mrs. Burke, for me to waste any of
+mine on people who only injure others. All my pity and sympathy go to
+the victimised, not to the victimisers."
+
+"It seems so hard, so merciless, so hopeless," she said after a few
+minutes' silence.
+
+"Have you any compassion for those who stole your papers? Would you have
+them escape capture and punishment, and so lose for ever all hopes of
+recovering those papers?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+There was a note of sadness in her voice, a note almost as unfamiliar as
+the brevity of her reply.
+
+"To what compassion is the man entitled who struck me down?"
+
+"You don't know--you don't know what made him do it. He may have been
+forced to do it for the sake of his companion, to save both of them."
+
+"Save himself and his companion from what? From capture while committing
+an outrage and a robbery. I do not see where any reason for compassion
+comes in, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"And you would show him none?"
+
+"None," he answered fiercely. "I look upon that man, whoever and
+wherever he may be, as a menace to mankind. He is unfit to be at large."
+
+"If you saw him, you would shoot him?"
+
+"If I saw him I should try and capture him and hand him over for trial."
+
+"But if you could not capture him? If he were escaping from you?"
+
+"Then I would shoot him--shoot him like a dog, and be satisfied I had
+done my duty."
+
+He stood up as he spoke and came into the moonlight, his face hard set,
+his eyes gleaming.
+
+She raised her hands and held them out towards him with so impetuous a
+gesture that he drew back.
+
+"I hope that you may never meet him--never--never," she said in a low
+voice which vibrated with emotion.
+
+"Why?"
+
+Durham rapped out the question in a savage staccato.
+
+"Because I--oh!" she exclaimed, as she shuddered. "It is so horrible to
+think of, to think that you who--when you were delirious, Mr. Durham,
+you used to talk--you used to say things so full of tenderness and
+sympathy that I wondered--wondered whether you were then your real self
+or whether your real self was the man you are now--hard, stern,
+pitiless, relentless. It was because of that I asked you if you ever
+felt compassion for those you chase to their doom. I would rather
+remember you as the man I learned to know when you unconsciously
+revealed to me your other nature. It is only as that I care to remember
+you. But if you met that man and killed him--oh, how could I bear to
+think of you as a murderer? It would kill me!"
+
+"I should not be a murderer. I should be carrying out my duty--a duty I
+hope I may never be called upon to perform, but one which I should not
+shrink from performing if I were called on by circumstances to perform
+it."
+
+For a space there was another silence between them, until he remembered
+she was standing.
+
+"Will you not sit down?" he said quietly. "Let me bring you a chair.
+This is my last night here," he said, when she had taken the chair he
+brought. "Do not let us talk about that wretched side of life. I want,
+before I go, to thank you for all the goodness and kindness you have
+shown to me. You have been----"
+
+She made an exclamation of impatience.
+
+"You have nothing to thank me for, Mr. Durham. Surely there is nothing
+deserving of thanks in doing what one could to relieve unmerited
+suffering. I only had--compassion."
+
+"It was more than compassion. It was the----"
+
+"Now, please. You will only annoy me if you say any more about it. If
+you had had a skilful nurse, you would have been cured long ago; it was
+my foolish blundering which delayed you so long."
+
+"Your blundering? If everybody would only blunder as you have, Mrs.
+Burke, then there would----"
+
+"You must not say that, Mr. Durham," she interrupted.
+
+"But indeed I must," he answered softly. "You have not only brought me
+back to health, but you have given me new life--something I never had
+before--not until I met you. I want to tell you. I want----"
+
+"No, no," she exclaimed, as she rose to her feet. "You must not talk
+like that. You must not, really. I will not listen to you, I must not."
+
+He lay back in his chair and she resumed her seat in silence.
+
+"What news had Brennan?" she asked presently. "You see, I have not been
+in the town since you came here," she went on. "One likes to know what
+is going, especially when one is isolated. Has the new manager arrived
+at the bank yet?"
+
+"I think not, but I did not ask. Brennan would probably have mentioned
+it though, if it were so."
+
+"I must come in and see about engaging someone to get the place ready
+for stock," she said. "The old man is not a scrap of use. In fact, I
+wish he were back in Ireland. He has the usual Irish failing, Mr.
+Durham. You know what that is. I'm always afraid that he will break out
+if ever he gets into the town by himself."
+
+"Drink?" Durham asked.
+
+"Oh, something terrible. I don't think he has had any since you have
+been up here, but one never knows. Any time I may find him helpless. It
+makes me uneasy until I have someone else about the place. Sure you can
+never say what a man like that will do. He might set the whole place on
+fire over my head, and I should never know it till I was burned to death
+perhaps."
+
+"May I make inquiries for you to-morrow, when I get into town? Mr. Gale
+may know----"
+
+"Mr. Gale? Oh, he's a likely man to bother himself about my affairs now.
+It was Mr. Gale stopped me from going to Taloona when I heard first
+about your--accident. All he could talk about was the good Mrs. Eustace
+was doing, and I said it was as well perhaps that Mr. Eustace was not at
+home, seeing the interest all the men in the place were taking in his
+lady. Sure now, is there any news of the creature--Mr. Eustace, I
+mean--there's no need to ask about Mrs. Eustace. Has any trace at all
+been found of the scoundrel?"
+
+"I can't say, really," he answered slowly. "I shall know to-morrow. We
+did not go into everything to-day. Brennan only reported certain matters
+of official routine."
+
+"Well, well. I should have thought he would have given you all the news
+seeing how long you have been away, and knowing how anxious you would be
+to have the latest tidings. Did he say at all how the old curmudgeon
+was? Is Mrs. Eustace still dancing attendance on him, and making herself
+a public martyr to cover up the tracks of her levanting husband?"
+
+"I believe Mr. Dudgeon is practically well again--the doctor could have
+told you about that."
+
+"Oh, he did, but I wondered whether you had other news. Sure it's not
+always a doctor's word that is worth considering. They lie almost as
+well as lawyers--or the police."
+
+"To whom you come for verification."
+
+"Now, that's just like me, giving away my own private opinion of you
+without the asking. But there! Did you ever hear the reason why the old
+man hated so much to let me buy this place? The doctor was telling me.
+He said the old man was never done telling him and Mrs. Eustace all
+about it. It's the funniest story ever you heard. Do you know it?
+
+"Sure I'll tell it to you," she went on, without heeding the absence of
+any reply to her question. "The old man was once in love. You'd hardly
+believe that, would you? But you never know. It's the most unlikely
+people on this earth who are the most like to make fools of themselves
+in that way. You and me and the rest of us, sure we're none of us safe,
+though I will say I'd like to see the woman who could get the blind side
+of one man I've met in these parts. Who he may be is no matter. But
+about old Dudgeon. It's long since he was in love, you must know, but
+when he was it was with a girl who was the daughter of the people who
+owned this station, years and years ago, before you and I were born,
+indeed. Well, the girl wouldn't have him, or preferred someone else,
+which is about the same thing. Kitty Lambton was her name when he was
+after her; it was a man named O'Guire she married to get away from the
+old soured rascal, though he was young at the time, and mayhap a sour
+young man at that. Would you say she was wrong? Would you?"
+
+"I suppose every woman has a right to please herself in such a matter,"
+he replied evasively.
+
+"That's what I say, and it's what poor Kitty did, rest her soul, for she
+is dead now, poor thing."
+
+Her voice dropped to a softer tone suddenly, and she was silent for a
+few seconds; but when she resumed her story the shrill tone, the tone
+which irritated and hurt him, he knew not why, rang out again.
+
+"But the old man would have none of it. He swore all the vengeance he
+could think of against her and hers. He swore no woman should ever set
+foot in this place again. He hounded the father and mother of that
+unfortunate girl to their graves; he chased her and her husband from
+pillar to post, robbing them, swindling them, betraying them until there
+was no place on the face of the earth they could call their own, no, not
+even a stick nor a shred. The devil was good to him--sure he always is
+good to his own. Money came to him by the waggon-load, and ever did he
+use it to hound those two unfortunates down, lower and lower until there
+was no hope nor peace for them, and they wandered outcasts in the sight
+of man and woman. And that's the man, that old double-dyed, heartless
+scoundrel that you police flock to preserve and protect, while the likes
+of Kitty and her husband are forced down and down and down to the lowest
+dregs of life. Is that justice? Is that law? Is that right? Answer me
+that now."
+
+"Probably Mr. Dudgeon coloured his story a good deal when he told it:
+old men usually do when they recount their youthful doings," he said
+quietly. "But, in any case----"
+
+She held out her hand impulsively.
+
+"Wait a moment," she said. "Supposing he did. Supposing the tale is only
+half true; but supposing that he did drive Kitty and her husband to the
+gutter, and suppose they had children--do you think if those children
+knew what that old scoundrel had done they would not be right to pay him
+back in his own coin? Sure I'm glad I was able to make the old vagabond
+eat his own words when I bought the place over his head. He's met one
+woman in the world who has defied him. And do you know what? If I knew
+where any of Kitty Lambton's children were at this moment--or her
+husband, seeing she is dead, poor thing--at least, so the doctor
+said--I'd go to them and say they could have the place free if only they
+would go and taunt that old fiend and fling it in his face and hound him
+down as he hounded down their parents."
+
+"What good would that do either you or them?" he asked.
+
+"Good?"
+
+She sprang out of her chair and stood facing him.
+
+"Don't you know what it is to hate?" she cried. "Is it only Irish blood
+that can boil at rank injustice? Is it only Irish hearts which burn to
+aid the oppressed and torture the oppressors as they tortured their poor
+unfortunate victims? You said you would shoot the man who struck you
+down, shoot him like a dog, if he were escaping your clutches. Don't you
+think Kitty Lambton's children have as great, if not a greater right to
+shoot that bloodless, heartless monster like a dog or a cat or any other
+vermin, if they met him on this earth? I'd tell them to do it; I'd tell
+them to do it if there were no other way to make his last hours more
+full of misery and agony. That's what I'd do, the dirty old traitorous
+villain that he is. Pah!"
+
+She uttered the words with a tigerish pant as she swung on her heels and
+strode away to the end of the verandah, where she stood for a moment
+staring up at the sky, before she returned.
+
+"It's the curse of the Irish to feel the wounds of others as keenly as
+though they were one's own," she said, as she sat down again. "What
+concern is it of mine whether the old fool hoards his money and drives
+lost souls to perdition? I've no right to worry about other people's
+troubles. Sure I have enough of my own. But it just maddened me to think
+of it. Oh, it's the Irish hearts that suffer!"
+
+The harsh vibrant tones had gone; the voice he heard was that of the
+woman who had pleaded earlier in the evening for compassion for the men
+who had injured her.
+
+Impulsively he reached out his hand and touched hers.
+
+"You must not," he said. "You must not heed such tales. You are too
+warm-hearted. The sordid side of life is not for you. We who have to
+come in contact with it, and know it in all its wretched squalor, know
+only too well that rarely, if ever, can one of the high-pitched stories
+of personal wrong be justified. The greater the criminal, the greater
+the protestations of innocence and injustice. Do not be deceived. You,
+who are so full of sympathy and gentleness, you who would not, by your
+own hand, hurt the hair of a man's head, you----"
+
+She sprang up.
+
+"Don't!" she cried. "Don't! You must not--never--never--I told you I
+would not have you speak to me of--I must not hear such things. I----"
+
+He was by her side, his two hands clasping hers.
+
+"Nora, I must. Darling, I love you. I cannot bear to see----"
+
+She pushed him back, flinging her hands free from his grasp, to clasp
+and press them to her bosom as though to still the great heaving gasps
+which made it rise and fall in tumultuous spasms.
+
+"Mr. Durham! You forget!"
+
+Her voice fell like a whip-lash, cold, haughty, stern.
+
+"I forbid you ever to speak to me so again. Good night."
+
+She swept past him and entered the house, closing the door after her.
+
+Hours passed before he could obtain control over his thoughts, before he
+could face the blackness her rejection of his declaration had brought
+upon him. Then he rose and stood staring blankly out over the sombre
+mystery of the bush, long since bereft of the faint glimmer of the
+new-born moon, veiled in shade, silent as the thin wisps of filmy mist
+which floated in the still air along the course of Waroona Creek.
+
+In the morning Mrs. Burke met him without a trace in her voice, face, or
+manner of the resentful indignation she had shown on the previous night.
+She talked, as she had talked on many a morning at the breakfast-table,
+with an uninterrupted flow of chatter, inconsequential, airy, frivolous.
+She met his eyes openly, frankly, without a glimmer to show she noticed
+the lines which furrowed his face. Yet they were so marked that when
+Brennan drove out for him later, he glanced at his superior officer with
+apprehension.
+
+"Do you think you are well enough to return to duty, sir?" he asked.
+"You don't look half so well as you did yesterday, and you were not
+looking too well then. If a few more days' rest----"
+
+"Oh, I'm very fit, Brennan," Durham interrupted. "You had better turn
+the horses out for an hour or so; Mrs. Burke insists on my waiting to
+have lunch before I go."
+
+Mrs. Burke came out to them as they stood talking.
+
+"Oh, Brennan, did you see old Patsy in the town?" she exclaimed.
+
+"Why, he was here this morning," Durham said.
+
+"Excuse me, Mr. Durham, he was not. You remember what I told you last
+night. I did not care to say then, but the old man was very strange in
+his manner before dinner, and I believed he had had drink. I spoke to
+him about it, and I have not seen him since."
+
+"But--who got breakfast ready?" Durham asked sharply.
+
+"I did myself, Mr. Durham."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Burke; why did you not tell me? I could have----"
+
+"An Irish lady, Mr. Durham, does not ask her guests to do her
+housework."
+
+Durham turned away at the sting of her words and voice.
+
+"Did you see the old man in the town, Brennan?" she asked.
+
+"No, Mrs. Burke, he was not in town last night. I should have seen him."
+
+"Oh, dear, then what can have happened to the creature? Sure I wish I
+had left him behind me in Ireland."
+
+"He may be about the place somewhere. Will I look for him?" Brennan
+said.
+
+"He's not about the house; I've looked everywhere," she answered.
+
+"He might be in one of the outhouses or stables."
+
+"I never thought of that," she exclaimed. "Maybe that's where he is. Oh,
+the trouble of the wretched old fool! I'll pack him off back to
+Ireland."
+
+She went into the house and Durham turned to Brennan.
+
+"Have you ever seen him in the town?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, yes, sir. He comes in at night mostly and buys drink, but he never
+stays. Soden told me yesterday the last time he came in he took away
+half a gallon of rum with him. Maybe that's the cause of his
+disappearance."
+
+"We'll look for him," Durham said shortly.
+
+In an outlying tool-shed they found him, stretched out on a tumbled heap
+of old sacks and rubbish, the place reeking with the scent of rum and a
+half-gallon jar lying on its side near him, empty.
+
+"He's dead to the world for a day," Brennan said as he stood up after
+bending over the old man and trying to rouse him. "He must have been
+drinking steadily for days to get through that quantity and into this
+state. What are we to do with him, sir?"
+
+"If Mrs. Burke will give him in charge we will take him to the station
+and lock him up, but we cannot take him otherwise. He's on her private
+property."
+
+"That settles it then," Brennan replied. "She's Irish, sir. You know
+what that means."
+
+His anticipation was correct. Mrs. Burke refused point-blank to allow
+her helpless retainer to be touched. He could remain where he was, she
+said, and she hoped the snakes and the lizards and the mosquitoes and
+all the other fearsome things she could mention would come and devour
+him--but the police were not going to touch him.
+
+She was equally hostile when Durham suggested they should start off for
+the town without giving her the trouble of preparing anything for them
+to eat. In fact, he could not now open his lips to her that she did not
+snap some biting retort at him.
+
+"She'd set the dogs on you if she were in her own country, sir,"
+Brennan remarked, when at last they drove away from the house with a
+final envenomed shaft ringing in their ears. "I don't think the old man
+is the only one who has a taste for the drink, if you ask me, sir."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE LAST STRAW
+
+
+Since Mrs. Eustace returned to the township Harding had never once been
+to see her nor, when passing the house, had he glanced at it.
+
+His attitude was inexplicable to her. That she had not had even a word
+from him while she was at Taloona perplexed her, for it did not occur to
+her to question whether he had received the message she left with Bessie
+for him. Yet there were several reasons which might account for that
+omission. But his failure either to see or to communicate with her after
+her return to Waroona was entirely another matter.
+
+When the third day came without a sign or word from him she took the
+bull by the horns and sent a note asking him to see her that evening.
+
+She was waiting for him in her sitting-room when she heard him come to
+the door, heard him ask Bessie if she were at home, heard him approach
+the room. As he opened the door she rose to greet him. He stopped on the
+threshold.
+
+"I received your note--you wish to see me?" he said stiffly.
+
+"Fred!" she exclaimed, looking at him in amazement. "Why, what has
+happened? Why do you speak so? What is it?"
+
+He remained where he was, silent.
+
+"Don't you wish to see me?" she asked, still regarding him with a look
+of wondering amazement. "Has anything happened? Is that the reason you
+have never been to see me since I came back--why you never sent a word
+to me at Taloona? Have they--have they found out anything more about
+Charlie?"
+
+He closed the door and walked across to the table by the side of which
+she was standing.
+
+"Mrs. Eustace," he began, but before he could say more she interrupted
+him.
+
+"You have something unpleasant to say. What is it? At least be frank.
+Whatever it is I am prepared to hear it."
+
+He took the letter from his pocket.
+
+"This came into my possession the night we were at Taloona," he said
+slowly. "I should have returned it to you at once, but it slipped my
+memory until after you had gone. Then, accidentally, unthinkingly, I
+came to read it. I--I wish to hear what you have to say about it. I wish
+to know----" The sentences he had so carefully thought out fled from his
+brain before the calm, steadfast look with which she was regarding him.
+"Do you recognise it?" he asked abruptly.
+
+He held out the cover to her, turning it over so that she could see both
+sides.
+
+"It is one of the Bank envelopes; I don't recognise anything else," she
+replied.
+
+Taking the letter from the cover, he spread it open and held it out.
+
+"Now do you know it?"
+
+"Charlie's writing!"
+
+Her eyes, after one rapid glance at it, were raised to his.
+
+"You recognise it?"
+
+"I recognise the writing, yes. It is his. Do you wish me to read it?"
+
+"If you have not already done so."
+
+She took the letter from him. As she read the first sentence she raised
+her eyes, filled with piteous anguish, to his.
+
+"Oh, Fred!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what is this? Where did you get it?"
+
+Without waiting for an answer she looked at it again. Her face went as
+white as the paper, a violent fit of trembling seized her, and she sank
+to her knees beside the table, burying her head on her arms.
+
+"Oh, Fred! Fred! Why--why did you let me see it?" she moaned.
+
+"Is it not yours?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
+
+"Mine?"
+
+She was on her feet, facing him, with eyes that blazed through the tears
+which filled them.
+
+"You believed that? You believed I had this when--that I had read it
+when we were at Taloona? You believed that?"
+
+"It was given to me by one of the troopers, who picked it up where you
+had been kneeling when you attended to Durham's wound. The man said it
+was either yours or mine. I knew it was not mine, so I took it to give
+it to you. I should have given it at once, but I forgot it at the
+moment. When I read it----"
+
+"Go on," she said in a hard voice as he paused.
+
+"When I read it I----"
+
+Her eyes disconcerted him; he could not bring himself to say to her face
+he suspected her.
+
+"When you read it--you believed it was mine," she said steadily.
+
+"For the moment, yes; I had no alternative. Then--later--I was
+uncertain."
+
+"Uncertain of what?"
+
+"Uncertain whether it was yours. At first I intended to hand it over to
+Brennan, as Durham was too ill to understand. Of course, that would have
+made it public, and you--well, you would have been suspected, at the
+least, of complicity in the robbery. I could not believe that of
+you--could not, even with this in my possession. I came back to Waroona
+in the morning intending to see you and hear what explanation you had to
+offer before taking any further steps. But you were not at the bank, and
+when I got there I was done up."
+
+The steady look in her eyes never changed.
+
+"Go on," she repeated.
+
+"I ask you now--what explanation have you to offer?"
+
+"Please finish your story first," she replied. "Then I will tell you
+mine."
+
+"I have little to add. I could not bring myself to give up the letter
+until I was sure it was really yours. Lest anyone else should see it, I
+hid it where no one could find it. But when I came down from my room
+again, Mr. Wallace told me you had been in and had gone back to Taloona.
+So I kept it until I could be sure."
+
+"Sure of what?"
+
+"Whether--you had had it."
+
+She laid it on the table in front of him.
+
+"Take it," she said. "Do what you will with it. I am sorry you showed it
+to me. I would rather not have seen it. How it came where it was found I
+do not know. Until to-night I did not know it existed."
+
+She met his glance openly, frankly, proudly.
+
+"And you believed it was mine!" she added.
+
+"I had no alternative--until I saw you," he answered.
+
+"You have had that letter for weeks; I have been here three days. Yet
+you only come to me now--when I have asked you to come."
+
+"I dared not see you--lest----"
+
+"Lest you discovered me to be even a greater traitress than you had
+already learned me to be," she said in measured tones. "I cannot blame
+you. The fault was mine. I have given you ample reason why your faith in
+me should have ended."
+
+"That is not true," he exclaimed. "I could not bring myself to believe
+you had acted so. But it was horrible enough as it was. It was because I
+had not lost faith in you that I hid the letter so as to prevent anyone
+else seeing it. By doing so I was not acting as I should have acted
+towards the Bank."
+
+"I never had it, never. I wish I had not seen it, for it"--her voice
+lost its hardness as she spoke--"it is the last straw. Whatever else I
+knew my husband to be, I held him innocent of that crime. When you and
+all the others suspected him, I would not, could not bring myself to
+believe it. But now----"
+
+Her voice caught and she turned aside, sinking into a chair where she
+sat with averted face and bowed head.
+
+"No wonder you did not wish to see me again," she added presently, as he
+did not speak. "What am I now? The wife of a thief, an outlaw, one who
+was almost a murderer. Oh, leave me! I should not have sent to you.
+Leave me. There is nothing for me now but death or degradation."
+
+"You must not say that, Jess, you must not say that," he said in a
+strained voice as he came and stood beside her. "Whatever he may have
+done, you are not affected by it. Appearances cannot well be blacker
+against him than they are at present, but you must still remember you
+are not responsible for his ill-deeds. No one here, least of all myself,
+blames you. Besides, he has not yet been convicted."
+
+"Not after that letter? There can be no doubt after that. He must have
+had it with him when he was at Taloona, and dropped it."
+
+"But it was opened, torn open, when the trooper found it. If Eustace had
+dropped it, surely it would have been sealed up."
+
+She glanced at him quickly.
+
+"Do you still suspect me?" she exclaimed.
+
+"I should not be here if I did," he answered quietly.
+
+"Oh, I don't know what to think," she said. "I would rather you had come
+to tell me he was dead than to show me that hideous thing. Better if he
+were dead, far, far better, than that he should live to end his days on
+the gallows or in gaol."
+
+She was voicing his own thought, a thought which had been with him for
+many days.
+
+"It was because something of this kind might happen I wanted you to go
+away," he said.
+
+"I know. I understand that. But I told you--told you why I could not
+go."
+
+She spoke scarcely above a whisper, with her head bent over her clasped
+hands as though she feared he might see her face.
+
+"But the reason you gave no longer exists. Will you go now? Will you go
+and leave all this wretched strain and worry behind you?"
+
+"I dare not. It would drive me to perdition. You don't know how a woman
+thinks. So long as she has someone near her whom she knows has respect
+for her, she will fight against the temptation to drown all her sorrows
+in one reckless plunge. When that one is no longer near her, no longer
+her stronghold, then--what has she to live for?"
+
+"You have the respect of all who know you."
+
+She pressed her clasped hands to her lips to stop their quivering.
+
+"No, Fred, no. I must stay. I could not bear to go. A man can think for
+the future; a woman lives only in the present. You, a man, cannot
+understand that. You would say I should go away, and in a few months or
+a year or so everything would have blown over. That would be all right
+for a man, but not for a woman. It is while the affair is blowing over
+that she is in the greatest danger. It is then she wants sustaining. She
+is only conscious of the precipice at her feet. Left to herself she must
+lean over, nearer and nearer to the edge until she falls.
+
+"That is the road to ruin thousands of women tread," she went on. "It
+would have been the road I should have gone but for you. The knowledge
+that despite all I have done to merit your scorn, you still hold to the
+love you gave me in the happier days, is the rock to which I have clung.
+Had you acted differently, I should have gone--gone from here, gone from
+everything, gone out into the world and lost myself under the weight of
+the disgrace which had come upon me. People would say I have no right to
+tell you this, that I am false to my sex in doing so. They don't know.
+It is easy to theorise when one is not in danger. I tell you because I
+trust you and know I can trust you. It is such men as you who save
+women, save them from themselves, as it is such men as Charlie who ruin
+them--as he ruined me."
+
+With her face still averted from him she ceased, and he also was silent,
+not trusting himself to speak.
+
+"That is why I must stay here. The mere fact of being near you gives me
+strength. If you are going away, then I will go also, for Waroona would
+then be impossible for me. But not till then, Fred, not till then. I
+only want to know you are here, only to see you sometimes. Do not deny
+me that."
+
+"You know I will not deny you anything that will help you in facing your
+difficulties, Jess," he answered.
+
+"Yes, I know," she said. "I could never have come through what I have if
+I had not always known it.
+
+"Will you have to go when the new manager comes?" she asked presently.
+
+"The new manager is here," he answered.
+
+"Here? Why, when did he arrive? I did not hear of it. Did they keep it
+from me on purpose? Mr. Gale was in this morning, but he said nothing
+about it."
+
+"He probably did not know at the time. I told him this afternoon."
+
+"What is his name? Is it anyone I know, or who knew Charlie?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+She faced round quickly.
+
+"Fred--you?"
+
+"Yes," he answered.
+
+"Oh, I am pleased," she began impulsively. Then she stopped. "That was
+why you did not come sooner," she added.
+
+"Yes," he replied. "Mr. Wallace told me three days ago it was to be, and
+I thought it better not to call immediately you returned."
+
+She had risen with her hand outstretched to him, but, before she could
+speak, a knock at the front door interrupted her.
+
+"Is Mr. Harding here?" they heard Durham's voice ask when Bessie went to
+the door.
+
+"Tell him I wish to see him at once," he added.
+
+She went to the door of the room.
+
+"Ask Mr. Durham to come in," she called out. "I am glad to see you out
+again," she added as Durham came forward. "Mr. Harding is in here. Will
+you come in?"
+
+He followed her into the room without speaking, his face so stern that a
+tremor of fear ran through her.
+
+"Will you give me a few minutes alone with Mr. Harding, please, Mrs.
+Eustace?" he began, when his keen eyes caught sight of the open letter
+lying on the table.
+
+He sprang forward and picked it up.
+
+"How did this come here?" he cried, looking from one to the other.
+
+"I brought it," Harding answered. "One of the troopers found it at
+Taloona and thought Mrs. Eustace or I had dropped it when attending to
+you."
+
+"It must have fallen from my pocket," Durham said as he folded it up.
+
+Mrs. Eustace was looking at him with anxious eyes.
+
+"Will you tell me--where you--got it?" she asked hesitatingly.
+
+"I found it--in the bush, lying unopened on the ground. By the marks on
+the ground someone had evidently been thrown from his horse, and this, I
+assume, had fallen from his pocket."
+
+"Was it--near the bank?"
+
+"No, Mrs. Eustace, it was in the bush miles away."
+
+She gave a deep sigh of relief.
+
+"Will you leave us for a few minutes now, if you please?" he repeated.
+
+She inclined her head and went from the room.
+
+As soon as the door was closed, Durham turned to Harding.
+
+"I went to the bank for you," he said, "to ask you to come here. I am
+glad you are here already. I have an unpleasant task to perform. Will
+you give me your assistance?"
+
+"Certainly," Harding answered. "What is it you wish me to do?"
+
+"I wish you would do it altogether. It will be easier for her if you
+tell her, than if I do."
+
+"Eustace is arrested?" Harding exclaimed in an excited whisper.
+
+"Eustace is dead," Durham replied in the same tone.
+
+Harding started as though he had been struck.
+
+"How? When?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Brennan and I found him, as we were returning from Waroona Downs this
+evening. He was lying on his face in the creek where it crosses the road
+in the range. He was drenched with water from head to foot, but the
+water at the ford is barely six inches deep. There were no footprints on
+the track either side of the ford to show how he had entered the water.
+He was shot in the back, the bullet having passed through his right
+lung, coming out at his chest. His wrists were bruised and chafed as
+though he had been tightly bound and had struggled to escape. The only
+thing found on him was this."
+
+He produced a handkerchief with two round holes burned in the centre.
+
+"It was such a handkerchief one of the men who stuck up Taloona was
+wearing," he added.
+
+"Where is he now?" Harding asked.
+
+"We brought him in and took him over to the police-station. It is for
+Mrs. Eustace, of course, to say what is to be done about the funeral.
+Will you break the news to her by yourself, or shall I do it?"
+
+"You have told Mr. Wallace?"
+
+"Yes. He suggested I should see you. The news upset him very much."
+
+"It will be better if I see her alone, I think."
+
+"I think so too. Not that I want to put the burden upon you, but coming
+from me----" he shrugged his shoulders. "I will leave you then, and ask
+her to come in."
+
+Harding met her at the door. Closing it behind her, he took her hand and
+led her to the chair where she had been sitting before Durham arrived.
+
+"Jess," he said softly, as he stood by her, still holding her hand, "I
+have sad news to tell you."
+
+Her fingers closed tighter upon his, but beyond that she made no sign.
+
+"Durham asked me to tell you."
+
+"Charlie," she said in a tense whisper. "It is about him. He is----"
+
+A shudder went through her and her voice broke.
+
+He placed his other hand upon hers gently.
+
+"He is gone, Jess."
+
+She rose to her feet with a gasp, clutching his arm.
+
+"Not dead!"
+
+"Yes, Jess."
+
+Her hands fell to her sides, limply, nervelessly; her lips parted, but
+no sound came from them; for a second she stood motionless.
+
+He took her hand again and rested his arm upon her shoulder, fearing she
+would fall.
+
+"Dead!"
+
+The word came in a low whisper, but the parted lips did not move nor the
+staring eyes change.
+
+"My poor, poor Jess," he whispered.
+
+"Oh, Fred!"
+
+A great wavering sigh escaped her, a sigh that ended in a sob,
+plaintive, wailing, sad. But still her eyes stared blankly.
+
+"Sit down, Jess," he said softly.
+
+"No, no. Let me stand. Let me--I want to face it. Don't leave me, Fred,
+don't leave me."
+
+She swayed, and the staring eyes closed. He slipped his arm round her
+waist to support her and at the touch she came forward, flinging her
+arms round him as her head drooped upon his shoulder and she burst into
+a fit of wild, tempestuous weeping.
+
+So he held her, his head bent upon hers, his arms supporting her. Not
+until the storm of sobs had abated did he speak.
+
+"Sit down, now, Jess. You will be better resting," he whispered.
+
+"No, no," she answered. "No, no. Let me stay--a moment."
+
+A hum of voices came from the road outside, for the news, flying through
+the town, brought everybody out to tell and hear.
+
+With one accord they gathered round the police-station, which was almost
+opposite the cottage, and stood in the road discussing the latest phase
+of the mystery, the phase which brought into it the note of tragedy.
+Then someone remembered the cottage and who was in it, and passed the
+word along. The loud voices were hushed as the men, actuated by the
+rough sympathy of the bush, quietly moved away so that the sound of
+their voices should not reach the woman on whom a fresh blow had fallen.
+
+Bessie, hearing the noise, went out to ascertain the cause. Hearing what
+the news was, she rushed back into the cottage and precipitately burst
+into the sitting-room. As she opened the door, Harding signed to her to
+keep quiet.
+
+"Here is Bessie, Jess. Will you stay with her?" he said.
+
+She drew away from him slowly.
+
+"No, don't go yet," she answered. "Tell me everything. I can hear it
+now."
+
+Bessie slipped out of the room and softly closed the door after her.
+
+Mrs. Eustace took the chair Harding placed for her and he sat down by
+her.
+
+"Who--did it?" she asked.
+
+"No one knows yet," he answered.
+
+She looked at him quickly.
+
+"Do they think--it was--himself?"
+
+"No; it could not have been."
+
+"I am glad of that," she said. "I have always feared he would. Then
+there could have been no doubt. Was he found?"
+
+"Yes. Durham was driving in from Waroona Downs with Brennan. They found
+him in the water where the creek crosses the road in the range."
+
+"Drowned?" she asked wonderingly.
+
+"No, not drowned; he had been shot."
+
+She shuddered and gripped his hand.
+
+"They did not----" she began brokenly. "They--it was not because he
+was--escaping?"
+
+"They found him," he said gently. "He was lying in the water--the shot
+had been fired from behind him."
+
+For a time she sat silent, still holding his hand firmly.
+
+"Where is he now?" she asked presently.
+
+"They brought him in and Durham came across to tell you. Will you----"
+
+"No, no. Oh, no," she interrupted as she shuddered and hid her face in
+her hands.
+
+Presently she raised her eyes to his.
+
+"It is better so," she said. "They may find out now that he was
+innocent; they would have condemned him had he been taken alive."
+
+He laid a hand on hers without speaking.
+
+With a quick gesture she raised it to her lips.
+
+"Oh, Fred, what a friend you have been to me!" she murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE RIDER'S SCORN
+
+
+Late into the night the townsfolk of Waroona stood in knots and groups
+in the roadway discussing the mystery surrounding the death of Eustace.
+
+Until the closing hour compelled the hotelkeepers to turn their
+customers out, the bars were crowded and a roaring trade was done, all
+the loose cash in the place passing into the tills which were full to
+overflowing.
+
+Everyone had a theory, which differed from that of everyone else, but as
+one after the other told his particular views on the question and heard
+them criticised and discussed, and heard also the views of others, there
+was a rapid falling off in individual opinions and a tendency to
+concentrate on one or two which withstood the test of criticism the
+best.
+
+On one point there was unanimity of opinion. Eustace and the man with
+the yellow beard had been in league. They had robbed the bank together,
+Eustace having drugged the other inmates so that there should be no
+chance of the work being disturbed.
+
+Eustace had also participated in the robbery and outrage at Taloona. He
+it was, the townsmen decided, who had his face hidden by the
+handkerchief mask. The indifference of his companion whether his face
+was seen or not suggested to them a stranger, one who was not known in
+the district, but who had come there for the purpose of carrying out the
+robbery of the bank.
+
+When the first sum of twenty-five thousand was so successfully secured,
+Eustace would know that the Bank, for its own protection, would have to
+hurry forward another similar sum to meet the obligation of its client.
+He would know that old Dudgeon would refuse to leave it in charge of the
+Bank, and would decline any police protection even if it were offered.
+Therefore, the crowd argued, he and his companion had waited until they
+could make a dash for that second sum.
+
+So far the events as they knew them corroborated their views. There had
+been the attack on Taloona; the second sum of money had been stolen and
+the rough treatment meted out both to old Dudgeon and the sub-inspector
+showed that the two outlaws were men who were prepared to play a
+desperate game to preserve their liberty and booty.
+
+It was this desperation which gave the most popular clue to the solution
+of the mystery surrounding the death of Eustace.
+
+The money, fifty thousand pounds in all, had been safely carried off to
+the hiding-place the robbers had chosen. In addition to the money there
+were other articles, and over the division of this spoil there had been
+a quarrel. Eustace had gone down, probably taken unawares, seeing that
+he had been shot in the back. Little as anyone sympathised with him in
+the course he had followed, there was a feeling of resentment against
+his companion for having obviously taken a mean advantage over the man
+who had thrown in his lot with him. A quarrel was possible at any time,
+even so deadly a quarrel as would result fatally for one or other of the
+combatants; but at least it should have been fairly conducted.
+
+Thereafter the completion of the story was easy.
+
+The victor had emptied his victim's pockets of everything except the
+incriminating handkerchief--leaving that, perchance, to fasten upon him
+a part responsibility of the Taloona outrage; had taken the body on his
+horse and ridden with it to the ford, dropping it in the middle of the
+stream where it was bound to be discovered by the first person passing
+that way.
+
+There was a callousness, a cynical indifference to all human instincts
+in this method of disposing of his victim, which deepened the feeling of
+resentment against the assassin who everyone held to be the unknown man
+with the yellow beard. To have left the body where it fell would have
+been less brutal than to flaunt it in the face of police and public as a
+taunt and a mockery. Following the outburst of amazement which the
+discovery had aroused, there came a sense of bitter hostility against
+the man who had done this, to their minds, needless act of savagery.
+
+As Brennan passed to and fro he was assailed with questions as to what
+the sub-inspector was going to do. Volunteers on all sides offered
+their services to scour the range, where all believed the murderer was
+hiding, and ride him down. But Brennan would say nothing. The
+sub-inspector had barely spoken since he returned to the station; but if
+he wanted help he would not hesitate to appeal for it, Brennan told
+them, adding that they need not worry--the criminal who could outwit the
+sleuth-hound of the force was not yet born.
+
+"But the Rider of Waroona is no fool," one of the men remarked.
+
+"Neither is Sub-Inspector Durham," Brennan retorted.
+
+Gale, who was standing in the group listening to the remarks made, but
+advancing no theory of his own, spoke out for the first time.
+
+"I'm not so sure," he said. "He may be smart enough in following up town
+robberies, but he hasn't done much here yet. Twice he has come in
+contact with the pair, and each time they have got ahead of him. He
+stops everyone else from doing anything. I offered to go out with a
+dozen men and scour the range, but he wouldn't hear of it--that was
+before he was cornered at Taloona."
+
+"Don't you worry," Brennan replied. "The sub-inspector knows what he is
+doing."
+
+He passed away from the group and the men turned to Gale.
+
+"That's what I don't follow," one of them said. "The chap must be hiding
+somewhere with that white horse of his. Why not scour the range for
+him?"
+
+"Brennan told me he didn't believe there was a white horse--that it was
+all a yarn," another exclaimed.
+
+"Well, I saw it," Gale retorted. "I saw it on the Taloona road. I'd have
+gone after it only I was in a buggy and it vanished into the bush."
+
+"Is the range the only place you'd look, Mr. Gale?" one of the men
+asked.
+
+"No," Gale replied. "I'd look there first, and then I'd go the other
+way."
+
+"Taloona way?"
+
+"Well, not far off."
+
+"That's what I think," the man went on. "Old Crotchety takes the loss of
+his money too quietly to please me. He's a pretty fly old chap and does
+not stop at a trifle to get his own back."
+
+"Like he did when he fired you out, Davy," someone exclaimed, and there
+was a general laugh, for the story of how Davy had been sent about his
+business at a moment's notice by Dudgeon was one of the stock anecdotes
+of the district.
+
+"Oh, that's as it may be," Davy retorted, "but I know too much about the
+old man to trust him very far."
+
+"Do you think he's the Rider?" Gale exclaimed.
+
+"No, but he may know who the Rider is--there are plenty of men who'd do
+the job for a round sum down."
+
+"But how about Eustace?"
+
+"Oh, well, that would be a bit of luck to get him to join. They may have
+thrown him over when he was no more use to them, and then there may
+have been a row and somebody's gun may have gone off a bit too soon.
+You never know. But anyhow, I'm with you when you say things look as if
+they are getting too much for the police to handle."
+
+"That's all very fine, Davy, but what I'd like to know is why the old
+man got shot? Did he pay a man to do that?"
+
+"Of course he didn't," Davy exclaimed. "I had a yarn with one of the
+troopers about that. He told me what the sub-inspector said in his
+report. Maybe that's something you don't know."
+
+It was, and the attention of the group concentrated on Davy, much to his
+satisfaction.
+
+"Go on, let's have the yarn," someone said impatiently, and there was a
+chorus of assent from the others.
+
+"This is what happened," Davy went on. "The Rider and his mate--Eustace,
+as I believe--came into the hut to settle the sub-inspector. As a blind
+they put handcuffs on the old man and were going to do the same with
+Durham when he, finding himself cornered again, made a fight for it. One
+of the chaps fired, meaning to finish him, but missed and hit the old
+man instead. Then, in the fight, the lamp was upset and the place in a
+blaze. Durham got a crack on the head and staggered outside, and before
+the others could get the old man out of the place the troopers arrived,
+and they had to bolt to save their own skins. That is pretty much what
+Conlon told me was in the sub-inspector's report. It was after hearing
+it I suspected the old chap."
+
+The group was silent as Davy ceased.
+
+"You've got the bulge on us this time," one of them remarked presently.
+"Why didn't you tell the yarn before?"
+
+"Because it was told to me in confidence--I knew Conlon years ago in the
+South. But now this other thing's happened it makes all the difference,
+doesn't it?"
+
+"But how about the money, Davy?" Gale asked. "That had gone, you know; I
+saw the place where it had been dug up."
+
+"Did you? You saw a hole in the ground; but how do you know the money
+was ever in it? And how could two chaps carry away a lot of loose bags
+of money on horseback?"
+
+"That's so," one of the group cried. "I reckon Davy's on the right track
+this time."
+
+"Anyway, so far as the money is concerned, only those who can afford to
+lose have been robbed. It won't break the Bank and old Dudgeon can stand
+it," Gale observed.
+
+"But there's murder in the case now. That counts more than money. It
+means hanging for someone," Davy replied.
+
+"Or ought to--if the police can catch him," Gale said, as he left the
+group and went on to Soden's bar, where he found Allnut and Johnson
+carrying on an animated discussion with the hotelkeeper on the one
+topic.
+
+"Have you heard the latest?" he inquired as he joined them.
+
+"What's that? A clue? Have the police got a clue?" Soden exclaimed.
+
+"There's a clue--of a sort, but the police haven't got it. Davy Freeman
+has been giving us a new theory. He says old Dudgeon's at the back of it
+all."
+
+"I'm not sure he's far wrong, Mr. Gale, to tell you the truth," Soden
+said in his slow manner. "They say funny things about the old man,
+especially those who were here in the early days."
+
+"What's Freeman's yarn?" Allnut asked.
+
+By the time Gale had repeated the story his audience had grown, and the
+waning interest in the subject was revived as the theory was passed from
+one to the other until it spread through all the groups and was debated
+and discussed from every possible and impossible standpoint. When the
+hour arrived for closing the bars the men clustered in the road, still
+wrestling with the problem.
+
+The night wore on and the young moon was sinking to the west before they
+began to knock the ashes out of their pipes, preparatory to adjourning
+the open-air parliament until the following day. One man was still
+pouring out his views and opinions and the others crowded round him,
+their own energies spent, but listening listlessly before they
+separated.
+
+Suddenly the sound of a horse galloping wildly startled them. With one
+accord they turned towards the direction whence the sound came.
+
+In the faint half-light, right in the middle of the road, racing with
+maddened speed, charging straight upon them, they saw a white horse with
+a bearded rider.
+
+To the right and left they scattered to get clear of the flying hoofs as
+through the midst of them, with a mocking shout and a wave of his hand,
+there flashed past the man with the yellow beard.
+
+A howl of execration and wrath broke from their lips. Those who had gone
+to their homes rushed out. Brennan, with Durham at his heels, dashed
+from the station.
+
+"The Rider! The Rider!" came in a chorus of hoarse shouts. "After him,
+lads, after him."
+
+There was a scatter and scamper as men fled for their horses.
+Barebacked, many with the bridle scarcely secure, all without weapons,
+the men of Waroona raced pell-mell down the road.
+
+Behind them, armed and orderly, Durham and his constable spurred their
+horses in pursuit.
+
+"The fools! They'll help him to escape," Durham cried as they came in
+sight of the confused rabble racing along the road.
+
+Ahead of the charging mob the road for a hundred yards showed clear as
+it topped a slight ascent. A belt of scrub a quarter of a mile through
+intervened between the mob and the open stretch of road. But from where
+Durham and Brennan were the view was uninterrupted.
+
+The white horse and its rider were half-way to the top.
+
+Acting with one impulse, both raised their carbines and fired from the
+saddle. The noise of the reports echoed through the still air and made
+the men in the scrub below rein in their horses to listen. As the smoke
+drifted clear Durham and Brennan saw, on the summit of the rise, the
+white horse prancing, riderless.
+
+Reloading as they rode, they dug their spurs home and raced through the
+patch of scrub. The men heard them coming, and waited, the lack of a
+leader making them undecided how to act. They made way for the two
+police, closing in behind them and pressing up to learn what had
+happened.
+
+"He's down. Keep back," Brennan called to them over his shoulder, and
+they slowed their horses until Durham and the constable rode twenty
+yards in front.
+
+Through the shadow of the scrub the two galloped side by side, each with
+his carbine resting on his hip ready for instant use. The road was soft
+and sandy and the beat of the horses' hoofs was muffled.
+
+With a sharp turn the road was clear of the scrub, and the open stretch
+rising to the top of the hill lay before them. In the centre one small
+dark object was on the ground, but there was no sign of the man they
+expected to see.
+
+Reining in as they came up to the small object, they saw it was an
+ordinary bushman's slouch hat. In the roadway, close to it, two long
+furrows were scored, while at irregular intervals up the rise flecks of
+blood glistened.
+
+Durham leaped from his saddle and picked up the hat. On the lining was
+stamped the name of the chief Waroona storekeeper, Allnut.
+
+"He's a local man," Durham said quickly. "Keep those fools back."
+
+While Brennan checked the charging crowd, now racing up the slope,
+Durham went forward alone. On the sandy roadway the marks made by the
+prancing horse were clearly visible to the top of the hill. The animal
+had evidently been badly frightened and had reared and plunged from one
+side of the road to the other, but nowhere was there such a mark as he
+knew must have been made had the rider fallen. Nor had the horse plunged
+as a riderless animal, but as one straining against a tight-held rein.
+
+At the top of the hill the marks showed down the other slope until the
+horse had reached a point where it would no longer be visible from the
+spot he and Brennan had been when they fired. There the track gradually
+approached the edge of the road and vanished on to the rough ground.
+
+Durham sprang out of the saddle and bent over the marks where they left
+the road. The horse had been pulled round and ridden directly into the
+bush. With the last faint rays of the moon dying away it was hopeless
+trying to follow the tracks through the sombre shadow; nothing more
+could be done until daylight to follow where the man had ridden.
+
+He had remounted and was riding back when the remainder of the men came
+up with Brennan.
+
+"The track runs into the bush; there's no hope of following it
+to-night," he cried.
+
+No hope? A dozen voices answered him with a flat contradiction, and past
+him there was a rush of barebacked riders hot on the trail. They
+scattered in a wide-spreading line, riding straight ahead and watching
+only for a gleam of the white horse amid the shadows of the bush.
+
+Durham stood up in his stirrups and shouted to them to come back, but he
+might as well have called to the wind. The fever of the chase was in
+their veins, the reckless dash of the hunter fired by the excitement of
+the greatest of all pursuits, a man-hunt. While this held them, they
+raced, aimlessly, uselessly, but persistently.
+
+Those with cooler heads and better judgment reined in their horses. Gale
+found himself in the midst of an excited throng with whom he was carried
+forward for some distance before he could get free.
+
+"He's right, lads, he's right," he shouted. "There's no chance to follow
+the track till it's daylight. Don't smother it. Come back."
+
+"Chase him to the range, boys, chase him to the range. We'll catch him
+at the rise," yelled one of the men in the lead, and with an answering
+cheer the galloping crowd held on.
+
+Those who had remained on the road were starting to return to the
+township when Gale rode back. Hearing him coming, they waited to see who
+it was.
+
+"They're mad," he cried, as he came up. "If they get near him, he'll
+shoot them as they come, and they'll destroy every sign of his tracks."
+
+"It's done now," Durham exclaimed impatiently. "We'll have to leave
+them; it's no use going after them now."
+
+He turned his horse's head and set off for the township with Brennan at
+his side and the rest trailing after him. At the station he and Brennan
+wheeled their horses into the yard while the others went on to their
+homes.
+
+"I shall be away with the dawn," Durham said, as soon as the horses were
+stabled and they were in their quarters. "It's the old story. That
+fellow has had so much luck up to the present he's lost his head. He
+wants to show us how clever he really is."
+
+"There's not much sense in what he did to-night; anyone in the crowd
+might have had a rifle, and there was no doubt who he was--he carried
+his life in his hands for nothing, it seems to me."
+
+"They always do sooner or later. He's an old hand at the game, or he
+wouldn't be so anxious to let us know he's still in the neighbourhood."
+
+While he was speaking, the door opened and Soden, the hotelkeeper,
+excitedly entered the room.
+
+"Here, come across the road, quick. Come and have a look at it. Hang me
+if this doesn't beat cock-fighting. They've stuck up the pub and cleared
+off with the till and all the takings," he exclaimed.
+
+He led the way to his hotel, the front door of which was open.
+
+"As I found it," he said as he pulled it to until it was ajar. "When we
+closed for the night it was locked and bolted. Look at it."
+
+Durham carefully examined it.
+
+"Opened by an expert burglar," he said quietly.
+
+"No one but a master of the craft could have done it so neatly. Show me
+the till."
+
+Soden led them into the bar. The till, empty, was on the floor; every
+cupboard door was forced and the place in chaos.
+
+As they stood looking at the wreck, voices sounded outside and other men
+trooped in.
+
+"Here, I say," the first-comer cried. "Here's a pretty go. Someone has
+been in my place and cleared every pennypiece out of it and--hullo!" he
+exclaimed as he looked at the state of Soden's bar, one of the show
+places of the town under ordinary conditions. "You seem to have had them
+too, and there's a mob outside, all with the same story."
+
+There was no gainsaying what had happened. While the men of the town
+were out careering after the mysterious Rider, their homes had been
+rifled of everything of value. The town was stripped as clean as though
+a tribe of human locusts had swept through it. Two places only were
+unvisited, the bank and Mrs. Eustace's cottage, in both of which places
+lights had been burning.
+
+Not even the police-station escaped, though not until Durham and Brennan
+returned to it did they realise the fact. What money there was in the
+place had vanished; a watch Brennan had left hanging over his bunk had
+disappeared and, as if to emphasise the visit, the pages of the record
+book were smeared with ink and defaced.
+
+Brennan glanced covertly at his superior who, with a heavy frown on his
+brow, stood scowling at the defaced book.
+
+"Have the revolvers gone?" he asked suddenly.
+
+Brennan turned to the locker where they were kept.
+
+"No, sir, they are here all right. I fancy he must have been disturbed
+before he could finish his work here. None of the cupboards have been
+touched."
+
+"Whom do you suspect?" Durham asked sharply.
+
+Brennan scratched his head and screwed up his face.
+
+"Well, to tell you the plain, honest truth, sir, I'm bothered if I know
+who to suspect. What gets over me is that white horse. No one believed
+the yarn about the buggy and pair of white horses, and no one believed
+the yarn about the men on white horses being seen on the Taloona road.
+But here the chap comes clean through the township riding a horse of a
+colour that isn't known in the district. You can't put a white horse out
+of sight like you can a stray cat, sir. But where do they go when the
+Riders are not on the road? It gets me, sir, I'm free to admit."
+
+"That hat I picked up was bought at the store in the town. That suggests
+someone who has been about the place."
+
+"Well, he might have stolen it. He might have taken it from the bank, or
+Taloona, or it might have been that other poor chap's--out there, I
+mean," he added, nodding towards the shed where Eustace lay.
+
+"He's no bushman," Durham said.
+
+"He rides well enough for one."
+
+"Oh, yes, I admit he rides well enough for one, but many men ride
+besides bushmen. I know neither he nor his partner have any practical
+bush experience. I know that. Just as I know the man who went through
+the town to-night is a burglar who learned his craft in one of the big
+cities of the world. The way that hotel door was opened was one of the
+finest pieces of expert burglary I've ever seen, and there are some
+pretty smart men at the game in our cities."
+
+"He's a pretty daring chap," Brennan remarked, with a touch of
+admiration in his voice.
+
+"He's too daring. That is what puzzles me. With fifty thousand pounds in
+gold and the valuables stolen from the bank, what sense is there in
+dashing through the place as he did to-night and then taking a bigger
+risk by doubling back past us and stealing what at the most can barely
+have been a hundred pounds in all?"
+
+"Do you think he doubled back, sir? Don't you think the dash through the
+town was a trick to draw everyone away so as to leave the way clear for
+a second man to do the burgling?"
+
+"I don't see who the second man could be. The handkerchief shows Eustace
+was the man who was with him at Taloona. I don't think he has another
+man with him now. He is doing it single-handed and seems to be enjoying
+it, too."
+
+"We ought to be able to pick up his tracks in the morning, if he doubled
+back."
+
+"Yes, if those fools have not smothered them. I'll see to that. I'll be
+away with the dawn. Mind you, no one is to know."
+
+"You can be sure of that, sir," Brennan answered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+LOVE'S CONQUEST
+
+
+In the grey half light which is neither night nor day, Durham saddled
+his horse in the station yard.
+
+No one was stirring in the township as he passed slowly along the road,
+but lest there should happen to be anyone who might see him, he turned
+into the bush at the first opening he came to. Only then did he set his
+horse at a faster pace, riding direct for the range to pick up the track
+leading to the hidden pool.
+
+The air was soft and cool, with filmy streaks of vapour floating amid
+the trees. As he cantered along, the mist rose and formed a pearly haze
+overhead into which there came a tinge of pink, dissipating it, before
+the colour could grow into a deeper tone, to reveal the clear sky, blue
+as a sapphire and bright with the first rays of the rising sun.
+
+In long swinging strides his horse carried him easily, and his spirits
+rose above the gloom which had weighed upon him since the evening before
+when, for the third time, he had been foiled by the mysterious Rider.
+
+There had been little sleep for him during the night. Had the discovery
+of Eustace and the raid of the town been the only events of the day he
+might have succeeded in banishing them from his mind sufficiently to
+allow himself to sleep. But there was more than these, disquieting as
+they were, to fill him with restlessness. The way in which Mrs. Burke
+had rebuffed him on the previous evening, the hostility of manner she
+had displayed towards him up to the time he and Brennan left Waroona
+Downs, weighed upon him.
+
+He could not account for the change which had come over her. From the
+time he arrived from Taloona she had always shown kindliness and
+gentleness towards him, even when, during the early days of his
+convalescence, he had been impatient and exacting. Nor could he find a
+reason for the change in the brief profession he had made of his love
+for her. Had that been the cause she would, he argued, have shown it the
+morning after; but she had met him then with the same light-hearted
+raillery with which she had greeted him every morning he had been in her
+house. Only when Brennan arrived on the scene had she suddenly developed
+antagonism.
+
+There must be some other reason for her anger than his declaration of
+love. For hours he had sought for it, cudgelling his brain to discover
+an explanation; but only now, as he cantered along through the bush with
+his spirits rising in harmony with the glories of an Australian dawn,
+did illumination come to him.
+
+"Oh, my love, why have you come so late to me!"
+
+Through the sombre shade of his brooding there flashed the memory of
+the scene when he had heard those words spoken. Like the touch of a
+magic wand the memory changed gloom to sunshine, shadow into light.
+
+It was not because he had professed his love for her that she had been
+displeased; it was because he was going from her, leaving her house,
+parting with her perhaps for all time.
+
+What a fool he had been not to know that earlier. Of course, she had
+repelled him when he had spoken on the previous evening, repelled him,
+not because she resented, but because she, like all of her sex, could
+not yield the truth at the first asking.
+
+Yet why should he have doubted with the memory of that earlier scene in
+his mind? He asked himself the question and answered it frankly.
+
+He doubted for the reason that still he did not know whether that memory
+was of a real scene, or was merely a figment of a delirium-haunted
+brain. If he could be sure, then no more need he doubt; but how was he
+to be sure? There was only one way--only one person in all the world who
+could tell him whether he was right or not--Nora Burke alone could say
+whether he had been dreaming.
+
+Some day he would ask her to tell him, some day, after he had asked and
+compelled her to answer that other question which had now become
+insistent. For the time the mystery of the Rider occupied a second place
+in his thoughts; yet the trend of his mind unconsciously brought it
+again to the front.
+
+The mission on which he had set out was one which might clear away the
+initial obstacle in the pathway of his love; he might locate the
+hiding-place of the Rider; might secure a clue to his identity; might,
+by great good fortune, discover the stolen money.
+
+If he could only do that, if he could only go back to the bank with the
+news that he had recovered the stolen gold, five thousand pounds would
+be his. Then he would be able to go to Mrs. Burke without the feeling,
+unbearable to a man of his temperament, that he, a poor man, was
+aspiring to one who had money, and who might attribute to that money the
+secret of his fascination.
+
+By the time the sun showed above the trees, he was up to the outlying
+spurs of the range and nearing the ridge along which he had previously
+followed the tracks of the two horsemen. With the knowledge he had
+gained how the track turned and twisted, he set his horse to the rising
+ground, and rode steadily and cautiously until he arrived at the summit
+of the steep immediately above where the creek entered the pool.
+
+Below him was the narrow sandy strip running round the edge of the
+water, and even from where he was he could see the marks of the horses'
+hoofs upon it. His glance wandered from the shore over the surface of
+the pool. It was a long sheet of water, more an exaggerated reach in a
+stream than a lake, for except along the sandy margin below him, the
+water everywhere rippled right up to the dense verdure-clad slopes of
+the hills.
+
+A curious discolouration appeared in a streak across the pool at the
+far end. The otherwise clear water was marred by a ledge of rock which
+stretched from one side of the pool to the other and came so near the
+surface as to give a suggestion of muddiness to the water.
+
+Dismounting, he led his horse to a sheltered gully, and securely
+tethered him to a tree. Then, with his carbine on his arm and his
+revolver pouch unfastened, he walked down to the dry bed of the creek
+and followed it to the mouth.
+
+Fresh marks were on the soft ground near the water, coming from the end
+of the pool where the streak of muddy water showed, and passing onwards
+round the pool. He decided to go in the same direction, and for a few
+yards walked along the level before he discovered other hoof-prints,
+equally clear, going the opposite way. The horseman, whoever he might
+be, had both come and gone within the past few hours, but Durham was
+uncertain which way had been the last.
+
+Leaving the level ground he forced a way through the thick herbage
+growing on the bank above and crept forward. As he went he obtained
+through the foliage an occasional glimpse of the track below, until the
+bank rose so steeply and the vegetation became so dense that he had to
+climb higher to move along at all. Presently he came to an easier grade,
+and was able to see once more the margin of the pool, but he was
+surprised to discover that all marks of the horses had ceased.
+
+He crept down to the water. Looking back, he saw that the bank, on the
+top of which he had been, ran out to the water's edge, forming a
+barrier across the track and terminating in a steep bluff jutting out
+into the pool.
+
+Crouching almost to the ground, Durham crawled through the undergrowth
+until he reached the summit of the bluff, and was able to see once more
+the narrow sandy strip which skirted the bank and formed the margin of
+the shore.
+
+Peering through the low-growing shrubs he saw how the bluff fell away in
+a precipitous descent on the other side down to where the narrow strip
+widened out into a level space screened by a clump of bushes reaching
+from the high bank to the water. The whole of this space was trampled
+upon, and it was evident that horsemen had been there frequently and
+recently.
+
+A step forward showed him something more. Right under the bank a dark
+patch showed. It was the mouth of a cave.
+
+He listened intently, but no sound came to him, and he again crept
+forward until he was able to see into the cave. It was low-roofed, and
+formed by rocks which had fallen loosely together, and over which
+vegetable soil had accumulated.
+
+Satisfied it was empty, he advanced boldly towards it. As he pushed
+between the shrubs which grew close up to it, he caught sight of what,
+in the shadow, looked like a crouching man. In a moment his carbine was
+thrown forward and he was about to challenge, when he realised he was
+aiming at a heap of clothes.
+
+He stepped into the cave. The clothes lay in a carelessly thrown heap,
+and with them, half hidden, was a false beard of long yellow hair.
+
+Picking it up, he held it at arm's length. So the Rider was disguised
+after all!
+
+The flimsy thing brought clearly back to him the features of the man as
+he had twice seen him. The close-clipped fair hair, the light sandy
+eyebrows, the peculiarly light lashes which gave so sinister an
+expression to the eyes, were distinct; but when he tried to reconstruct
+the face as it would be without the beard, he was baffled. The form of
+the nose, the moulding of the chin, the shape of the mouth, had been
+hidden by the disguise, and without a knowledge of them Durham could not
+grasp fully what the man was like. As Harding had expressed himself,
+when describing the face he had seen at the window of the bank, it was
+the impression of a familiar face disguised, and yet a familiar face
+which could not be located.
+
+Beyond that he could not go.
+
+He picked up the clothes and examined them. They were of nondescript
+grey, such as can be bought by the hundred at any bush store in
+Australia, and were similar to what the man was wearing the night he
+visited Waroona Downs. The hat was missing, as Durham expected it would
+be. The pockets were empty.
+
+Replacing the articles as nearly as possible in the position in which he
+found them, Durham turned his attention to the cave itself.
+
+The floor was rough and uneven. What sand clustered in the hollows was
+too much trampled upon to reveal any detail of the feet that had walked
+upon it.
+
+There were innumerable nooks and crannies where articles could be
+stored, but in every instance they contained nothing. Nowhere could he
+find anything more than the clothes.
+
+He went to the mouth and stood peering round to see if there was another
+similar cave near, but everywhere else the ground rose solid and
+unbroken.
+
+In the open space under the shelter of the bluff where the ground had
+been so much trampled by horses, the wheel-marks of a vehicle also
+showed. He walked over and examined them carefully.
+
+They were the marks of what was evidently an old and rackety conveyance.
+One of the wheels was loose and askew on the axle, with the result that
+it made a wobbly mark on the ground, while the tyres on all the wheels
+were uneven in width and badly worn.
+
+"Almost as ancient as old Dudgeon's rattle-trap," Durham said to himself
+as he looked at the marks.
+
+The story, fanciful as he had regarded it at the time, of the buggy
+driven by two men with a pair of white horses, the story told by the
+travelling bushmen the day the bank robbery was discovered, recurred to
+him. If this was the vehicle in which the gold had been carried off, and
+the wheel-marks he was looking at had been made by it, then that gold
+was probably secreted somewhere in his immediate vicinity.
+
+The thick-growing shrubs and stunted gums made it difficult for him to
+see far from where he stood. The level stretch along the margin of the
+pool showed clear enough, but around him the vegetation was so dense
+that, unless he had some clue to guide him, to prosecute a search within
+it was like trying the proverbial search for a needle in a haystack.
+
+During the time that had elapsed since those wheel-marks had been made
+they had been greatly obliterated, but it was still possible to
+distinguish where the vehicle had been stopped, for the horses had
+turned suddenly, and the wheels cut deep as they came round. He stepped
+to the spot. Later tramplings had removed all clear traces of footmarks.
+Nothing was now to be learned from that source.
+
+His eyes swept along the line of shrubs which fringed the open space. A
+twig, snapped near the stem, dangled, its leaves brown and withered. It
+was a finger pointing where someone had forced a way through.
+
+Durham went down on his knees beside the shrub. Near the root the bark
+had been stripped for a couple of inches, the scar showing brown, while
+in the soil the impression of a heavy boot was just distinguishable.
+
+On hands and knees he pushed his way between the stems. Other footmarks,
+old and faint, showed, and he crept along with his eyes on them. Some
+weeks before there had evidently been much coming and going through the
+scrub at this point. Looking straight ahead he saw the grey sheen of a
+sun-dried log. He stood up. The thick undergrowth reached to his
+armpits, but through it, a couple of yards from where he stood, and ten
+from the spot where the wheel-marks turned, was the fallen trunk of an
+old dead tree.
+
+Such a log, hollow for the greater part of its length and absolutely
+hidden by the shrubs growing round it, was exactly the place where
+anything could be secreted, and remain secreted, for an indefinite
+period.
+
+Pushing his way carefully through the tangle of shrubs he came upon it
+at the root end. It had evidently fallen in some bygone bush-fire, the
+jagged charred fragments showing where it had snapped off close to the
+ground. The fire had eaten its way into the heart of the timber and
+there was space enough in the cavity for a man to crouch.
+
+Stooping down, Durham peered into it. At the far end he saw,
+indistinctly, a confused mass, pushed up closely. He reached in, but
+could not touch it, without creeping into the opening.
+
+He looked round for something that would serve as a rake to pull the
+articles out, but there was no loose stick sufficiently long near to
+hand, and he did not want to cut one. Higher up the bank he saw one that
+would suit his purpose and went to get it.
+
+As he returned with it in his hand he saw, at the other end of the log,
+a patch of white on the ground. Going over to it he found it was caused
+by a chalky powder which clustered thickly near the tree.
+
+This end of the log was also hollow, and in the cavity were a couple of
+bags which, when he pulled them out, he found to be full of the chalky
+powder.
+
+The white horses flashed into his mind as he looked at it.
+
+"The cunning scoundrel!" he exclaimed. "Even the horses were disguised."
+
+He replaced the bags, and went to the root end of the tree. With his
+stick he was able to reach the objects stored in the hole, and pulled
+one out.
+
+By the weight he knew what he had found, before he opened it--the bag
+was full of gold.
+
+Slowly he drew everything out of the place. All the gold taken from the
+bank and from Taloona lay at his feet, together with a miscellaneous
+collection of jewellery wrapped up in a small square of canvas. But
+there was no sign either of papers or bank-notes.
+
+It was out of the question for him to attempt to remove the treasure to
+the bank there and then. All he could do was to make it as secure as
+possible until, at a later day, he could return with a conveyance and
+carry it back to the town.
+
+On the far side of the bluff he discovered a crevice formed by an
+overhanging ledge. It was a place even more difficult to trace than the
+fallen tree, and here he placed everything, keeping only a gold watch
+which bore Harding's name. Then, having obliterated, as nearly as he
+could, every mark which would be likely to reveal the hiding-place, he
+made his way back to his horse.
+
+He rode to the margin of the pool, and walked along the track until he
+was opposite the streak of mud stain in the water. The horse and
+wheel-tracks turned towards it and, standing up in his stirrups, Durham
+saw that the water shoaled with a wide ledge of rock running directly
+into the pool.
+
+Putting his horse to it, the water was barely a foot deep on the rock
+all the way across to the opposite bank. Here the horse and wheel-tracks
+reappeared, turning sharp to the left through the bush, and passing over
+a dwarf ridge from the summit of which he caught sight of the mountain
+road where it turned down to the ford.
+
+Still following the tracks, they led him once more to the water's edge.
+He entered it, and continued close to the shore until he suddenly
+emerged on to the rock which formed the break in the road over which the
+stream rippled.
+
+He rode on to the road and reined in his horse near the spot where he
+had first seen the pool the night he was on his way to Waroona Downs.
+Had he not just ridden along the track round the edge of the water, he
+would not have believed it was there, so absolutely was it hidden from
+the roadway.
+
+For a moment he hesitated whether to go on to Waroona Downs or return to
+the township at once, and arrange for the treasure to be removed. But
+the anxiety gnawing at his heart decided for him and he wheeled his
+horse and set off at a canter for the station.
+
+As he came out to the level road he saw, riding towards him, the object
+of his regard. Mounted on a fine dark chestnut she was coming along at a
+hand gallop. She waved her hand as she caught sight of him, and he
+pulled up to wait for her, watching, with more than admiration, the
+magnificent seat she had and the easy grace with which she managed her
+horse.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Durham, I'm so glad to see you," she cried as she came up. "I
+am in such trouble about that old reprobate. Sure he's gone and I'm just
+after riding into town to see if he is getting more of the wretched
+drink. If I find him----"
+
+"Brennan will have him if he is in there, Mrs. Burke. You need not be
+uneasy. I'll inquire as soon as I return. I am on my way----"
+
+"Oh, but I can't," she interrupted. "What would they say if ever it got
+to Ireland that I let the old fool fall into the hands of the police
+over a trifle like this--for it's only a trifle they would call it in
+Ireland, Mr. Durham. Sure if it were known there, and you may be certain
+he'd leave no stone unturned to make it public, they'd boycott me and
+all my belongings, if they didn't do something worse."
+
+"Then it would be better for you not to go back there," he said, smiling
+at her.
+
+She gave him a sidelong glance with her head on one side.
+
+"Not go back there? And what should I be doing anywhere else with all my
+responsibilities waiting over there for me?" she asked coquettishly.
+
+"You may have responsibilities over here as well, some which would----"
+
+"Oh, now, you're making fun of me, Mr. Durham," she exclaimed. "What's a
+bit of a place like this with never even a single pig on it, let alone
+all the sheep and cattle it ought to have, to keep me from my own home?
+When I get stock on the place it might keep me here, but sure where's
+the money to come from to buy the creatures if I don't go back and sell
+everything I possess to pay for them?"
+
+"Won't you turn back, Mrs. Burke? I was riding out to see you. I want
+to--ask you something."
+
+"Ask me something? What, more police questions? No, no thanks, Mr.
+Durham. They don't agree with my constitution--nor my temper."
+
+"It is not a police question," he said seriously. "It is to
+do--with--with yourself."
+
+A merry peal of mocking laughter answered him.
+
+"Come along now, come to the township with me before they get poor old
+Patsy where it would break his honest old heart to be."
+
+She started her horse.
+
+"Come along now," she called over her shoulder, flashing a mischievous
+glance back at him.
+
+He had no alternative but to follow, and he cantered to her side.
+
+"It would teach him a good lesson, Mrs. Burke, if you let him spend a
+few days in the lock-up," he said. "It would give him a chance to get
+really sober, whereas, if he keeps on getting drink, you will have him
+out of his mind."
+
+"Now you're trying to frighten me, Mr. Durham. Sure, what sort of a man
+is it I've met this morning? I believe you'd like to see old Patsy
+inside a cell, and then maybe you'd be after me too."
+
+"I might be," he answered.
+
+"What would you give me? Six months hard or just a caution?"
+
+"I should offer you something entirely different," he said in a serious
+tone of voice. "I should offer you----"
+
+"Oh, yes, it's a lot you police people offer folk. Sure they have to
+take what is given them, whether they like it, or want it, or not."
+
+"I may not always be one of the police people, as you term us," he said.
+
+"Are you thinking of joining the ministry?" she exclaimed. "I'd like to
+hear you preach your first sermon, Mr. Durham. I'd come twenty miles in
+the rain for it."
+
+The mockery in her voice irritated him, and his face showed it.
+
+"Oh, now, Mr. Durham, don't talk nonsense. What would become of the
+place if you left the force of which you are such an ornament? It's
+fairy tales you are telling me. And you have never said a word yet about
+your journey. What news did you hear when you reached Waroona?"
+
+"I suppose you have not heard about Eustace?" he asked.
+
+"Eustace? What's the matter with Eustace now?"
+
+"He was found yesterday."
+
+The jerk she gave the bridle brought her horse back on his haunches, and
+Durham was a couple of lengths past her before he could bring his horse
+round. When he turned she was allowing her horse to walk, the bridle
+hanging loose.
+
+"Eustace was found yesterday?" she asked in a dazed tone as she came up
+to him. "Found yesterday? Is that the news you had to give me?"
+
+"It was not to tell you of that I was on my way to Waroona Downs," he
+replied. "Though I should probably have mentioned it."
+
+"Where was he found, Mr. Durham? I suppose he is arrested now?"
+
+All the raillery had gone from her voice, which had grown so sorrowful
+that he looked at her wonderingly.
+
+"He was not alive when he was found," he said quietly, still watching
+her.
+
+Her hands convulsively clutched the bridle, and her mouth twitched.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Durham, how awful! What a terrible thing! Oh, poor Mrs.
+Eustace! Sure I'm glad I'm going into the town, for I'll be able to see
+the poor thing. Is she much upset? But she is sure to be."
+
+"It is a great trial for her. She will be very glad to see you, I should
+think," he answered.
+
+"Oh, well, well; what a funny thing life is, Mr. Durham. One never
+knows. It's all a muddled-up sort of affair at the best. If only people
+could do what is in them to do, instead of being placed in positions
+where there is only sadness and trouble crowding in on them and crushing
+them out of existence! It's a weary world, very, very weary."
+
+"We can only take it as we find it, and make the best of it," he said.
+"You must not allow this to worry you. Perhaps, after all, it is the
+best thing that could have happened for him. There are worse things
+than death. Think what it would have been for Mrs. Eustace had he been
+captured and sent to penal servitude. Her whole life would have been
+ruined. We see so much of that in cases where the husband gives way. It
+is the wife who suffers most, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"Oh, I know, I know," she exclaimed in a tone so full of sadness that he
+feared he had touched on some secret grief.
+
+He rode beside her in silence, not knowing what to say lest he added to
+her distress, but yet tormented by the idea that he should speak out
+what was in his heart and learn, once and for all, whether his hopes
+were to be realised or shattered. Keeping slightly behind her, he was
+able to watch her without her knowing it. She was staring between her
+horse's ears, her lips tightly closed, her head erect, and her cheeks
+pale. Lost, apparently, in the reverie his words had called up, she
+seemed to have forgotten his presence as a mile went by without her
+turning her head or opening her lips.
+
+But she had not forgotten he was there. At a turn in the road she
+uttered a sharp exclamation and held out her hand, pointing.
+
+"Oh, it is too bad," she exclaimed bitterly. "It is too much for anyone
+to bear. Look at that!"
+
+Away down the road Durham saw a horse and rider. The horse was making
+its own way, the rider having as much as he could do to keep in the
+saddle. He was swaying from side to side, occasionally waving his arms
+in the air and howling out a tuneless ditty in a strident cracked voice.
+
+"Old Patsy," Durham said shortly.
+
+"Oh, what will I do?" she exclaimed.
+
+"Better let me take him back and give him a few days where he will have
+time to recover his senses, I think," he said.
+
+She flashed a furious glance at him.
+
+"I shall do no such thing," she snapped. "The best thing you can do is
+to get out of sight before he sees you. He hates you, Mr. Durham.
+Irishmen of his class always hate the police. The sight of you will only
+aggravate him in his present state."
+
+"He is not in a fit state to return with you," Durham said.
+
+"Oh, I can manage him if I'm left alone with him," she replied.
+
+"But I shall not leave you with him," he said firmly.
+
+"You must; you must," she exclaimed sharply. Then, as though a mask had
+fallen from her, the expression of her face changed and she leaned
+towards him, laying her hand on his bridle arm. "Oh, yes, please, for my
+sake. For the sake of--of what I said you--you were not to mention
+again--will you--please will you do this?"
+
+Her wonderful eyes, soft and melting with a look of appeal, were turned
+full upon his; her red lips pouted and her voice thrilled with a winning
+gentleness.
+
+"Please, please do this for me. I would not ask it, only I know--I
+know--I can ask _you_."
+
+Her voice sank to a whisper, more alluring, more devastating upon him
+than when she spoke before. So taken aback, and yet so elated was he at
+her change of manner, that he could not answer her at once.
+
+"You were coming to tell me again--I read it in your face. Oh, do this
+for me now. Leave me alone with him. Come and see me to-morrow. Come and
+tell me then--tell me--what I want to hear."
+
+"Nora!"
+
+The word escaped him in a gasp. What she wanted to hear! Were his ears
+playing him false? Was he dreaming? He had his hands on hers, holding it
+with a grip of a strong man stirred to the depths, crushing the fingers
+one on the other, but there was no waver in the eyes that looked with so
+much entreaty into his.
+
+"Leave me now before he sees you, before he gets here. I can manage him
+best alone. Look, he is hastening. Oh, don't wait. Ride away into the
+bush. I appeal to you--in the name of my love for you. Dearest--go!"
+
+The tumult surged up and over him; had she bidden him at that moment to
+ride into the jaws of death, he would have galloped, shouting his
+delight. Nothing else counted with him then, nothing but her wish.
+Bending down he pressed her hand to his lips.
+
+"Go--go--quickly--dearest!" he heard.
+
+"Till to-morrow, Beloved, till to-morrow," he answered, as, pulling his
+horse's head round, he drove his spurs home and plunged into the bush,
+racing in the wild abandon of his joy.
+
+What did it matter that a drunken old Irishman was saved from arrest? He
+would probably have contented himself with warning the old reprobate to
+get home as quickly and as quietly as he could. But she did not know
+that. All she could do was to think how to save her foolish servant from
+the penalty of his folly--how like her that was, how like the great
+warm-hearted noble creature she was! Pride in her, pride, love,
+adoration, welled up in his heart. The yearning of his soul was
+satisfied, the longing of his being set at rest.
+
+Her love was his! In that knowledge all the contradictions of her
+attitude became clear. She had only sought to hide the truth from him
+lest he should think her too easily won. He laughed aloud as he
+galloped.
+
+Too easily?
+
+No matter how great the sacrifice he had been called upon to make, it
+would have ranked as nothing if, at the end of it, her open arms were
+waiting to enfold him. But there was no sacrifice, no toll to be exacted
+from him. Of her own initiative she had sounded the note which called
+him to her and made her his. To-morrow he would ride out to her, not
+alone to give her the pledge of his affections, but to carry to her the
+tidings of his discovery. Although he had not yet recovered her papers,
+he would be able to assure her that he would have them as soon as he
+captured the man who stole them, the man who had murdered Eustace, the
+Rider whose hiding-place he had discovered.
+
+For there was no doubt in his mind about that capture. Once let the
+gold be safely removed to the bank, he would return to the cave and wait
+till, as he was certain would happen sooner or later, the Rider came for
+his disguise.
+
+Then Nora Burke should have her papers returned in safety, and he would
+have won more than the promised five thousand pounds reward.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+DUDGEON PROPOSES
+
+
+For the first time since the outrage at Taloona, Dudgeon visited
+Waroona.
+
+He drove up to Soden's hotel in the old rackety buggy at a crawl, for
+his horse had gone dead lame on the way. At the time he arrived Patsy
+was making ineffectual attempts to mount his horse for the ride which
+led to so dramatic a turning in Durham's romance, having just staggered
+out of the bar highly indignant because Soden had refused to allow him
+to have anything more to drink on the premises.
+
+"Have you a horse I can borrow from you, Soden? My old crock has gone in
+the off hind-leg and wants a rest. Can you let me have one to get back?"
+Dudgeon called out.
+
+"I'll have to send out to the paddock, Mr. Dudgeon, but I'll have one in
+by four this afternoon, if that will suit you."
+
+"It'll have to suit, I suppose," Dudgeon replied. "I didn't want to hang
+about the place so long, but if you'll have it in by four I'll be here
+ready to start. I'll leave the buggy with you."
+
+While they were talking Patsy and his horse were slowly going round and
+round, the old man missing the stirrup every time he put his foot up,
+and only avoiding a fall by hanging on to the bridle so firmly that he
+pulled the horse round at each ineffectual attempt to mount.
+
+"Give him a leg up, Jim," Soden said to his barman.
+
+Old Patsy, with the help of the barman, managed to clamber into the
+saddle, where he sat for a few minutes swaying unsteadily before he
+started to ride off through the town.
+
+"Where's he from?" Dudgeon asked, looking after him.
+
+"Oh, that's Mrs. Burke's Irish body-guard," Soden said. "Says he should
+never have left Ireland, and I agree with him. There'll be trouble out
+at the Downs some of these days, if she doesn't clear him out or he
+gives over drinking. Don't you serve him any more, do you hear, Jim?
+Hand him over to Brennan if he comes in again," he added to his barman.
+
+"Well, what's the news?" Dudgeon exclaimed as he got out of his buggy
+and limped over to Soden.
+
+"The leg's not all right yet, I see?" Soden said.
+
+"Oh, that's getting on. Anything fresh about the bank?"
+
+"Why, haven't you heard?" Soden cried. "They've found Eustace, found him
+with a bullet through him, lying in the water at the ford in the range.
+He's over there now," he added, jerking his head towards the
+police-station.
+
+"What's that you say?" Dudgeon exclaimed, open-eyed and open-mouthed.
+
+"They found him only yesterday--the sub-inspector and the constable. And
+last night, what do you think? His mate, the man with the beard who
+stuck your place up, galloped through the town here, and afterwards,
+when we were all out chasing him, doubled back on us and stole
+everything he could lay his hands on."
+
+Dudgeon still stood staring open-mouthed and open-eyed.
+
+"There were only two places he missed, the bank and the cottage down the
+road--Smart's place--where Mrs. Eustace is living."
+
+"Ah! Then that poor thing's a widow?"
+
+"That's so," Soden replied. "But, between you and me, I don't think for
+long. You know she and Harding--he's our new bank manager, by the
+way--are old friends, Mr. Dudgeon, and from what I hear from Jim, my
+barman, who's got his eye on the girl Mrs. Eustace has, they're pretty
+good friends now, if not a bit more. I shouldn't be surprised, speaking
+as between man and man, to see her back at the bank again before many
+years are over, that is, if young Harding stays on here."
+
+"Oh!" Dudgeon exclaimed. "Oh!"
+
+"He's a fine young fellow, Mr. Dudgeon, and you ought to be interested
+in him, for he was the first to look after you when you were knocked
+over. But, here, won't you come in for a bit? You're in no-hurry."
+
+"Yes, I am," Dudgeon replied. "I'm in town on business, and when I have
+business to do, Mr. Soden, I do it. See?"
+
+"It's a good plan."
+
+"Yes, it's a very good plan. So I'll move along. Don't forget to have
+that horse in sharp at four--I don't like waiting."
+
+He limped away down the road and Soden turned back into his house.
+
+"Old Dudgeon don't seem to have lost much of his sourness since he was
+laid out," he said to his barman as he passed. "He's never been inside
+this door since I've been here, and they say he hadn't been in for years
+before then. Queer old chap he is. I wonder if he is mixed up with the
+Rider?"
+
+Limping along, Dudgeon made straight for Smart's cottage and knocked at
+the door.
+
+"I've come to see Mrs. Eustace," he said gruffly when Bessie answered.
+
+"I'm sorry, sir, but Mrs. Eustace can't see anyone to-day. It's----"
+
+"You go and tell her it's me, do you hear? Mr. Dudgeon of Taloona. I'll
+come in and sit down till she's ready."
+
+He pushed the door wide open and stepped inside.
+
+"But Mrs. Eustace, sir----" Bessie began.
+
+"Did I speak loud enough for you to hear, or didn't I?"
+
+"Yes, sir, but----"
+
+"Then go and tell Mrs. Eustace I'm here."
+
+He was nearly at the door of the sitting-room when Mrs. Eustace, having
+heard his voice, reached the passage.
+
+"Ah," he exclaimed. "I want to talk to you. Just come in here, will
+you?"
+
+He held the door open for her and waited till she passed in. Then he
+followed and closed the door.
+
+"Just excuse me one minute," he said as he remained standing by the door
+which he suddenly flung open again.
+
+"I thought so," he cried, as he saw Bessie in the passage. "You clear
+out of it. What I've got to say to Mrs. Eustace don't concern you, nor
+Jim the barman. Do you hear?"
+
+Bessie heard, and scurried.
+
+"It's only fair to tell you," he said, turning to Mrs. Eustace, "that
+what that girl sees and hears here goes to Jim the barman who, if you
+don't know it, tells Soden, and Soden tells the town. You understand?"
+
+He limped across the room and sat down.
+
+"I've come in to tell you something," he went on. "When I got here I
+heard the news. But that makes no difference to what I had to tell you.
+I can still tell you. But I must say something else first. You wouldn't
+stay on at Taloona when I asked you, but that was your business. Now
+this has come to you. I'm no hand at talking sympathy, but if you want
+anything that I can get for you it's yours--you understand?"
+
+He leaned forward, with his hands on his knees, looking her steadily in
+the face.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Dudgeon, I--I understand," she said haltingly.
+
+"That's what I thought you'd say," he remarked as he sat back. "I know
+it's a sad business for you, as it stands, and I'd rather you never had
+it. You're the first woman I've felt that way about for more years than
+you've lived. But I'm sorry for you, hang me if I'm not."
+
+"It is--good of you to say so," she murmured.
+
+"Still, you're young, and there are many years before you which won't be
+all sad, you may be sure. But now you're a widow will you come to
+Taloona?"
+
+She looked up quickly without replying.
+
+"I don't care how it is. You can make it your home as a guest, or you
+can come as Mrs. Dudgeon."
+
+"Oh, please, Mr. Dudgeon," she exclaimed as she stood up. "You--I know
+you don't mean to hurt me, but----"
+
+She broke off and turned away.
+
+"It wasn't said to hurt you," he said. "It was only to show you what I'd
+do for you. Seemed to me it was the best way to put it. I only want you
+to understand I'm with you whatever comes along. Will you take it that
+way?"
+
+"I know," she exclaimed impulsively, as she crossed over to him and laid
+her hand on his shoulder. "I know how you mean it, Mr. Dudgeon, and I
+appreciate it more than I can say. It was the----"
+
+"The clumsy way I put it," he said, as she hesitated. "That's all right.
+Don't mind speaking out your mind to me--you used to pretty well when I
+shied at that physic you poured into me a few weeks back."
+
+"I should have asked how the leg is," she said leaping at the opening to
+change the subject. "Is it still very painful?"
+
+"Oh, it comes and goes," he replied. "Mostly goes."
+
+"Don't you think it would be a good thing if you took the doctor's
+advice now and went away for a change and a rest? It would make you all
+right again in a few months. The hard, rough life you lead at Taloona
+makes it very difficult for you to get up your strength after the
+experience you have had."
+
+He smiled grimly--his facial muscles had been so long strangers to
+anything approaching tokens of mirth or pleasure that they did not move
+easily.
+
+"I suppose it is a bit rough out there," he said. "But then, you see,
+I'm used to a rough life--I've had it all my days. Is that why you
+wouldn't stay? Was it too rough for you?"
+
+He looked round the little sitting-room in which she had the furniture
+and nicknacks from her room at the bank.
+
+"There's a bit of a difference I will say," he went on as she did not
+reply. "It's a flower-garden to a stock-yard to compare this room with
+the hut you had out at Taloona. Look here. I'll build a new house, build
+it as big as you like or as little as you like, and you shall furnish it
+and fit it up just as you fancy--if you'll only make it a home for
+yourself."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No, Mr. Dudgeon, I am afraid that is impossible," she said. "At the
+same time, I want to thank you very much for what you say."
+
+"Look here," he exclaimed. "I don't want thanks. You know what my life
+has been--I told you the story often enough when I was lying sick and
+you were waiting on me like an angel--oh, I mean it," he added, as she
+looked up. "Just let me say what I've got to say. When you came back
+here, and I was by myself again, I began to think. Somehow the old views
+didn't seem quite to fit together. There was something wrong somewhere
+and I reckon that somewhere was me. I've put a wrong twist on things. It
+never struck me there was more than one woman in the world who could do
+anything to make me contented. So I set out to make money. I made it,
+made it by the ton. And now I've got it what's the good of it to me?"
+
+"There is no limit to the good it may be if it is properly applied, Mr.
+Dudgeon."
+
+"Where will it do good?" he exclaimed. "That's just what I want to know.
+Tell me."
+
+"There are hospitals," she said. "And schools. You might found
+scholarships for poor students to----"
+
+"And chapels and missions and dogs' homes--go on, trot out the whole
+list," he interrupted. "None of them will ever get a pennypiece out of
+me. More than half the money given to them goes to keep a lot of lazy,
+patronising officials in luxury--I know--I've come in contact with them
+when they have been cadging after me for subscriptions. They cringe till
+they find out there's nothing for them, and then they snarl. I've no
+time for that sort of people, no time nor money either."
+
+"Then I hardly know what to suggest," she said, "unless----"
+
+"Unless what?"
+
+"You helped Mrs. O'Guire and her children, if she has any."
+
+His mouth went into its old hard lines, and he sat silent for a time.
+
+"It's no good talking about that," he said presently. "The best thing I
+can do for them is not to think about them--I'd be after them again if I
+do--if I could find them. Help them? No. I'd rather give the money to
+the Government to build gaols. Can't you think of anything else?"
+
+"I'm afraid I cannot," she answered. "But I am still sure your money
+will do good if it is properly applied."
+
+"Ah, that's it. If it's properly applied. I'm an old man now. How am I
+to apply it? There's only one way that I can see, and that is what I am
+going to do with it. I'm going to give it away. What do you think of
+that?"
+
+"If you give it away where it will do good I think it is a very
+excellent idea," she answered.
+
+"You know that youngster at the bank, don't you? Young Harding, I mean."
+
+"Yes," she replied.
+
+"Do you think he is a man to be trusted?"
+
+"I know he is, Mr. Dudgeon."
+
+"I'll take your word for it," he said as he stood up. "I'll get along
+and see him. You can let him know if you want anything and he'll send
+on word to me. I'll look in again next time I'm passing. Good-bye."
+
+He held out his hand, hard, knotted, and roughened with toil, and she
+placed hers in it. His fingers closed on hers, and he stood looking into
+her eyes till she grew uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
+
+"I'd give everything I've got in the world," he said hoarsely, "for a
+daughter like you."
+
+He dropped her hand and limped quickly to the door, opening it and going
+out without looking back.
+
+Through the window she saw him pass along the road towards the bank, his
+head up in the old defiant way, the limp robbing his stride of much of
+its sturdiness. Without a glance at the cottage he passed out of sight.
+
+Right through the town he walked until he came to the bank.
+
+Harding, looking up at the sound of footsteps, was surprised to see him
+limping to the counter.
+
+"Good day, Mr. Dudgeon," he exclaimed.
+
+"Do you know how to make a will?" the old man asked, without replying to
+the greeting.
+
+"That is more the work of a solicitor than a banker, Mr. Dudgeon."
+
+"Oh, I know all about that. If it's going to be a long, muddled,
+complicated affair a solicitor's the man to go to. But that's not what I
+want. I want to make a will leaving everything I possess to just one
+person. I'm no hand with a pen, so I thought you might be able to do it
+for me."
+
+"Mr. Wallace is inside; perhaps he could advise you better."
+
+"Well, I'll see him."
+
+Remembering his last interview with the crotchety old man, Wallace was
+particularly circumspect when he met him.
+
+"What I want is this," Dudgeon exclaimed. "I want to say it in such a
+manner that there can be no questioning the thing afterwards, that is
+when I'm gone, you understand?"
+
+"I understand," Wallace replied.
+
+"I want to leave everything I possess to one person. If that is written
+on a sheet of paper and I sign it, isn't that enough?"
+
+"If your signature is witnessed by two persons."
+
+"Then go ahead. Write it out for me. You and this young man can be
+witnesses."
+
+"It is an unusual thing for the Bank to do, Mr. Dudgeon; but if you
+really wish it, of course we shall be only too happy to oblige you.
+Don't you think Mr. Gale----"
+
+"No," the old man snapped. "I've finished with Gale."
+
+"Then will you come into my room and we will do the best we can for
+you."
+
+Wallace drew up a simple form of a will and read it through aloud.
+
+"I have left the name blank," he said. "If this expresses what you wish,
+you can fill in the name and sign it, either before Harding and myself
+or two other people."
+
+Dudgeon took it and read it through again.
+
+"That'll do," he said. He put it on the table in front of Harding. "Fill
+in Mrs. Eustace's name--I don't know it," he added.
+
+Harding wrote the name in the blank space, the name of one who, in
+another minute, would rank amongst the greatest heiresses of the world.
+
+"That is the full name," he said as he handed back the document to
+Dudgeon.
+
+He looked at it.
+
+"Jessie, is it?" he said. "Jessie Eustace, née Spence. There is no
+chance of a mistake being made, is there? Hadn't you better add whose
+wife she was?"
+
+"If you wish it."
+
+"And say where she is living now, and where she came from before she
+came here. I don't want this to go wrong. I want to make sure she will
+get everything."
+
+When the additions were made he read the whole document through once
+more.
+
+"Yes, that seems to fix it," he said. "Give me a pen."
+
+The signature affixed, and witnessed, he looked from one to the other.
+
+"I'll take your word to keep the matter secret till I'm gone," he said.
+"I don't feel like dying just yet, but one never knows, and, in the
+meantime, I don't want this known. She don't know, and if she does, it
+will only be through one of you two talking."
+
+"You may rest assured, Mr. Dudgeon, that both Mr. Harding and myself
+will respect your confidence and hold the matter absolutely secret,"
+Wallace replied.
+
+"That's good enough," he said.
+
+Turning to Harding, he added, "I'll leave this in your charge. If I go,
+see that she gets it. Good day."
+
+He was at the door when Wallace spoke.
+
+"Will you not stay and have some refreshment, after your long drive in?"
+he said.
+
+Dudgeon looked over his shoulder, with his hand on the door-handle.
+
+"That's all I want from you," he replied.
+
+"There is one other matter," Harding exclaimed. "If this will ever has
+to be used, we have no information what property you are leaving."
+
+Dudgeon let go the handle and faced round.
+
+"Young man," he said, "you've got a head on you. Just sit down and I'll
+tell you, and you can write them down."
+
+Leaving the two together, Wallace went to the outer office.
+
+"I am glad he's gone," Dudgeon remarked. "This don't concern him."
+
+Then he reeled off a list of properties, securities, cash deposits, and
+other possessions, dazzling in their value and variety.
+
+The name of a firm of lawyers in a southern city was added.
+
+"That's the lot," he said unconcernedly. "I needn't tell you to see she
+has her rights. Give me your hand, my lad. I hope she shares it with
+you."
+
+Without another word he was gone.
+
+Harding was still running his eye over the list of properties Dudgeon
+had dictated when he heard Wallace call.
+
+"All right. We'll come in," Wallace added, and appeared with Durham at
+his heels.
+
+"Do you know this?" Durham asked, as he held out his hand.
+
+"My watch! Where on earth did you find it?" Harding cried.
+
+"It is yours?"
+
+"It's the one which disappeared from under my pillow the night the bank
+was robbed."
+
+"I thought so."
+
+"Have you found anything more?" Wallace asked breathlessly.
+
+"All the money and a lot of jewellery. I would like Mr. Harding to come
+along with me to-night to the place where I have it hidden. We can bring
+it in quietly without anyone knowing. But till then, don't let this be
+seen, and don't breathe a word of what I have told you. Now I've got the
+money I want to make sure of the man."
+
+Wallace slapped him warmly on the back.
+
+"You're a marvel, Durham. I knew you'd do it somehow, but I'm bothered
+if I could see how. May I wire to head office?"
+
+"Not till to-night, Mr. Wallace. When the stuff is handed over to you
+will be time enough."
+
+"How about Mr. Dudgeon's money?"
+
+"It's there, too."
+
+"He's in town. Will you tell him?"
+
+"Not a word, Mr. Wallace. You are the only people I mention it to; not
+even Brennan will be told about it till it's here."
+
+"Well, you know more about these things than I do, so your word's law.
+But I shall be glad to let the head office know--I want to have the
+general manager's authority to do what I told you was going to be done."
+
+Durham smiled in answer. So did he want the general manager to authorise
+what was to be the news he wished to give Mrs. Burke on the morrow. With
+five thousand pounds behind him he anticipated less difficulty in
+persuading her to postpone her intended return to Ireland, postpone it
+long enough, at all events, for her to go, not as Mrs. Burke, but as
+Mrs. Durham.
+
+He stood at the door chatting to Wallace before going on to the station,
+when Dudgeon rattled past in his old buggy drawn by a borrowed horse.
+
+He did not look towards the bank as he passed.
+
+"If I told him I suppose he'd scowl at me and say, 'Oh, have you?'"
+Durham exclaimed as he watched the crazy old vehicle disappear along the
+road.
+
+"You are sure his money is there too?" Wallace asked.
+
+"Quite."
+
+"That's curious."
+
+"Why? It was obviously stolen by the same man who robbed the bank, and
+naturally they took it to the same spot."
+
+"Have you any idea who the men were--or rather the man, for I suppose
+there is only one now to be considered?"
+
+"That is so," Durham answered. "Only one--and he may be--anybody."
+
+"You have no suspicions?"
+
+"I don't want any. If I begin suspecting different persons I may miss
+the real individual. As matters stand, I know where, sooner or later, I
+shall meet him under conditions which will identify him as the man I
+want. The trap is set and the bird will be caught. That is all I can
+say."
+
+"Have you heard what they are saying in the town?"
+
+"I've heard a good deal one way and another, but not to-day, as I have
+been away since dawn. Is it anything special?"
+
+"Someone started the yarn last night, so Gale told me. There's an idea
+that old Mr. Dudgeon is at the back of the whole affair; that he hired
+the man they call the Rider to rob the bank in the first instance, so as
+to prevent the sale of Waroona Downs being completed. Eustace is
+supposed to have been bribed to join the conspiracy."
+
+"That's rather an ingenious theory. Whose is it?"
+
+"One of the men in the town; Gale did not mention his name. But he has
+evolved a very workable theory--at least to my mind."
+
+"Let me hear it all," Durham said.
+
+"Well, when the bank had been robbed, and the second lot of gold was
+hurried forward in time to save the situation, one part of the scheme
+failed, for the sale of the property was completed. The Rider and his
+mate--Eustace, as is generally believed--went out to Taloona to settle
+up with the old man. They found you there and, to blind you as to the
+real character of Dudgeon, they pretended to make him a prisoner. Then
+you showed fight, Dudgeon was shot by the bullet intended for you, the
+lamp was upset, and the place set on fire just as the troopers I sent
+arrived on the scene."
+
+"That sounds all right as far as it goes. Is there any more?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Dudgeon being laid up delayed the settlement and the pair had
+to wait--every time up to last night that the white horses have been
+seen was on the Taloona road, you may remember, which adds colour to the
+theory. Then they got tired of waiting and quarrelled between
+themselves, with the result that one of them got killed. The general
+idea is that they quarrelled over the division of the spoil, and, seeing
+what you have discovered to-day, I am inclined to agree with it. Last
+night's escapade was sheer bravado to mock at you and Brennan. What do
+you think of the idea?"
+
+"Oh, it's all right, as far as it goes. When my man walks into the trap
+waiting for him I may be able to tell you whether it is the correct
+solution, but, for the present, I should neither accept nor reject it."
+
+"That is all you have to say about it?"
+
+"That is all; and now I must get along to the station. I'll be back in
+an hour or so to tell Harding where to meet me."
+
+It was just on sunset when he returned to arrange for Harding to go out
+with him about midnight. With Harding and Wallace he was standing at the
+private entrance of the bank when, with a clatter, there dashed down the
+road the horse and buggy in which Dudgeon had driven by during the
+afternoon.
+
+The horse was galloping with the reins trailing behind it, the
+splash-board was smashed and hanging loose, striking the horse at every
+stride and adding to its panic.
+
+Durham and Harding rushed out to stop the runaway. It swerved to the
+edge of the road, the buggy overbalanced and rolled over, the shafts
+snapped, and the horse, breaking free, raced through the town.
+
+"Look!" Harding cried. "What has happened?"
+
+On the seat of the vehicle was an ugly red splash, while the floor was
+smothered with blood.
+
+"Send along to Brennan to follow me, will you?" Durham exclaimed as he
+sprang to his horse, which was standing at the door of the bank, mounted
+it, and spurred away along the road the runaway had come.
+
+Four miles away on the Taloona road he found Dudgeon.
+
+The old man lay in a heap in the middle of the road, riddled with bullet
+wounds, any one of which would have proved fatal.
+
+There were abundant signs of a fierce struggle. As Durham read the
+indications, an attack had been made upon him while he was driving
+along He had been shot and had struggled from the vehicle, probably
+returning the fire, for there was the mark where another man had fallen
+and added another red stain to the ground. Then the two had closed and,
+in the contest which ensued, Dudgeon had gone down, his assailant
+venting his mad rage by firing bullet after bullet into the prostrate
+form.
+
+While he was still examining the marks Durham was joined by Brennan and
+half a dozen of the townsmen who had ridden out in obedience to
+Harding's warning. Durham drew Brennan aside.
+
+"I only have my revolver with me," he said. "Give me your carbine and
+what cartridges you have. I must get away on his tracks before any of
+the men lose their heads and ruin the chance of capture by smothering
+them."
+
+"Give Brennan what help you can, will you?" he called out to the men who
+stood by their horses looking, horror-stricken, at the lifeless form of
+the old man.
+
+Mounting his horse he sped away. For a time he watched the track of a
+horse which had galloped just off the road. It had evidently lacked a
+firm hand on the bridle, for it seemed to have taken its own direction.
+
+The rider was wounded. Of that Durham was certain.
+
+Under such circumstances where would he go?
+
+As Durham turned his horse into the bush, making for the range where the
+little cave was situated, he answered his own question.
+
+Riding at topmost speed, he reasoned as he rode. The other man had at
+least two hours' start. With such a lead he could easily reach the cave
+first if he could ride steadily. But he was wounded, and in that lay
+Durham's hope of getting there before him.
+
+The light was waning by the time the commencement of the foothills was
+reached. At the bottom of the gully lying at the foot of a ridge across
+which he had to ride, Durham gave his horse a spell. The top of the
+ridge rose steep and bare. As he looked towards it, estimating which was
+the better direction to take to get to the cave, he heard the sounds of
+a horse walking.
+
+Presently, on the sky-line, immediately above him, he saw a horse and
+rider. There was just light enough for him to distinguish the form of
+the man.
+
+He was clad in grey, the jacket open, his hat in his hand. He was a
+bearded man--a man with a yellow beard.
+
+It was the Rider!
+
+Even as Durham watched, the man saw him, saw him and swung his horse
+round so sharply it set back on its haunches.
+
+In another moment he would be flying away through the gathering gloom,
+away into the broken fastnesses of the range, away, perhaps, for all
+time, from capture.
+
+The horse was recovering itself. Durham threw his carbine forward and,
+as the horse reared at the pain of the spurs driven into its side, he
+fired.
+
+Amid the echoes of the report there came a sharp scream of agony.
+
+Durham leaped to his saddle and spurred his horse up the steep slope.
+
+When he reached the summit only the marks of the flying horse's hoofs
+showed which way the man had gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+UNMASKED
+
+
+The silvery sheen of the rising moon glittered on the surface of the
+pool and lay over the sombre-foliaged bush as Durham came out upon the
+top of the bluff above the Rider's cave.
+
+From the moment he reached the ridge to find only the marks made by the
+plunging horse he had raced to get there first. Down the sharp slopes of
+the gullies, across the dry, rock-strewn bed of the mountain-streams, up
+the opposite steeps, with never a care for the risks he ran, he kept his
+horse at its topmost speed, sparing neither spur nor lash to urge it
+along. There was no time to choose the easy paths, no chance of picking
+his way; every moment was of value, for he knew how the wounded outlaw
+would make desperate haste to get to the shelter of his haven.
+
+The gloom of the bush ere the moon rose added to his difficulties. With
+no landmark to serve as a guide he had to rely absolutely upon his
+instinctive sense of locality, and kept steadily in the one direction,
+although that meant riding over the rugged ground, barred by tumbled
+boulders and thickly growing trees, which formed the almost precipitous
+sides of the gullies. At any time a fall was possible; he carried his
+life in his hands and knew it; but the ride was a race against odds, and
+there was no time to heed.
+
+He was breasting the rise of what he believed to be the last of the
+ridges he would have to cross, when the laboured breathing of his horse
+told him it was almost done. Leaning forward in his saddle, he patted it
+on the neck and spoke to it as a man who has realised the companionship
+between himself and a favourite horse will do. Responding to the
+encouragement, it mounted to the summit of the ridge and quickened its
+pace as it felt it was on level ground again. But where the other ridges
+had been flat on the top, this one was little more than a razor-back. No
+sooner was the ascent completed than the descent began. The horse caught
+in its stride to steady itself, tripped, stumbled, and came down. Durham
+was flung over its head like a stone from a catapult.
+
+Fortunately he came to the ground on the broad of his back, though with
+such force that he was momentarily stunned. His horse picked itself up
+and stood trembling and panting long before he was able to scramble to
+his feet. Even when he did so his head was spinning and he could barely
+stand.
+
+With unsteady steps he went to his horse and took hold of the bridle. To
+attempt to ride it further was obviously out of the question, and he led
+it slowly down to the bottom of the slope, tethering it securely to a
+tree in the shelter of the gully. Then, pulling himself together, he
+set off up the opposite slope on foot.
+
+His head was still swimming from the concussion of his fall, and into it
+there came the humming he had experienced after his adventure at
+Taloona. It made him so dizzy that he sank down on a boulder, resting
+his head on his hands until the humming and throbbing should pass. As he
+sat there came a sound to his ears which made him start to his feet,
+forgetful of the giddiness, forgetful of everything save the sound and
+all that it signified.
+
+Through the silence of the bush came the measured tread of a walking
+horse.
+
+It was evidently crossing the gully below, for, as he listened, the pace
+quickened to a trot and then to a canter and then became suddenly faint
+and muffled.
+
+In an instant Durham read the significance of it. The horse had crossed
+the gully on to level ground and, urged by its rider, had cantered out
+of hearing. Exactly such a thing would happen were the gully he had
+crossed the one which came out on to the level sandy margin of the pool.
+
+The realisation sent a chill through him. The rise up which he was
+climbing must be the ridge which formed the bluff above the cave. If he
+were not over it quickly, the Rider would be the first at the cave and
+Durham's scheme for his capture defeated.
+
+The thought drove the last vestige of dizziness from his brain. He faced
+the slope and forced his way through the tangled undergrowth until he
+came to the top and saw the moonlight gleaming on the surface of the
+pool and illuminating with its silvery sheen the open space at the foot.
+
+There was no sign of the horse he expected to see, and no sound came
+from the cave. With his carbine ready, he crept slowly and silently down
+until he was at the mouth. A stray moonbeam fell upon the spot where he
+had seen the clothes on his former visit. The spot was bare.
+
+He was about to step into the cavern when he heard the distant tread of
+the horse. Quickly drawing back, he hid himself behind a clump of shrubs
+which sheltered him, while leaving him a clear view in front up to the
+line of bushes stretching from the bank to the water's edge. There he
+waited, while the sound of the horse approaching became more and more
+distinct.
+
+Presently it was so clear he could hear the snapping of the twigs of the
+undergrowth as they were trampled down, and he levelled his carbine so
+as to cover the man immediately he and his horse emerged from the line
+of bushes. But when the animal appeared, for the moment Durham thought
+it was riderless. Only when it reached the middle of the open space and
+was almost directly below him did he see the man, lying forward over the
+withers, with his arms weakly clinging to the horse's neck and his legs
+swaying limply as they dangled with the feet out of the stirrups.
+
+Of its own accord the horse stopped. The man painfully pushed himself up
+until he was able to turn his head and look from side to side.
+
+He was scarcely ten yards from Durham, and the clear light of the moon
+revealed the face as distinctly as though it were day. The close-cropped
+hair, fair almost to whiteness, the eyebrows and eyelashes of the same
+hue; the general form of the face showing above the beard were
+incongruously, yet elusively, familiar, while the pallor of the cheeks
+and the anguish of the eyes told of the terrible injury the man had
+sustained.
+
+He was trying to push himself up so as to sit in the saddle. Only his
+arms seemed to have any strength, for the legs still dangled limply and
+the fingers clutched the horse's mane convulsively as the body swayed.
+The moonlight fell full upon the face, glistening on the beads of
+moisture which stood out on the skin.
+
+A twinge of pity passed through Durham's heart as he watched the agony
+of the stricken wretch. The effort to maintain his balance was more than
+the weakened muscles could stand. A deep groan broke from his lips as
+his arms gave way; his head fell and he plunged forward, slipping over
+the horse's shoulder and coming head first to the ground, where he lay
+in a limp, dishevelled heap.
+
+Freed from its burden, the animal stepped forward and moved to a tree
+where it had evidently been accustomed to find its feed, for it snorted
+impatiently and shook itself as it sniffed round the trunk. But Durham
+had no eyes for it; he was watching, with fascinated intentness, the
+figure lying motionless on the ground.
+
+Slipping from behind the sheltering shrubs, he approached the man with
+noiseless steps. There was no sign of life in the figure which lay as it
+had fallen, but across the lower part of the back the clothes were
+stained with blood. A bullet had struck him almost on the spine, and the
+dangling limbs were explained. The shot had paralysed them.
+
+Durham stooped over him. The faintest flicker of breathing showed he was
+still alive. He lay on his face, his arms out-flung, his legs twisted.
+Drawing the arms together, Durham slipped a strap round them above the
+elbows so as to hold them secure. Then he partly lifted him from the
+ground and dragged him to the mouth of the cave, where he sat him with
+his back against the rock.
+
+The head drooped forward. In his waist-belt there was a revolver-pouch
+which Durham, on removal, found to contain a revolver of heavy calibre
+loaded in all chambers.
+
+Now that he was unarmed and secured, Durham knelt beside him to try and
+revive him. He gently raised the head and rested it against the stone,
+holding it steady with one hand while with the other he lifted off the
+false beard.
+
+As the disguise came away and left the face fully exposed, Durham's
+heart stood still. With a cry he sprang to his feet, staggering back to
+stand, with clenching hands and throbbing temples, staring blankly at
+the white, drawn face upturned to his.
+
+The humming roar was again in his ears, a trembling seized his limbs,
+his brain reeled and the scene spun before his eyes.
+
+"Oh, my God!" he cried.
+
+Slowly the eyelids lifted and a spasm of pain contracted the pallid
+face. The glance rested for a moment on Durham as a faint wan smile
+flickered round the corners of the bloodless lips and the eyelids
+drooped again.
+
+The sound of his own voice in a hoarse, strained whisper jarred on
+Durham's ears.
+
+"You!" he gasped. "_You!_"
+
+The eyes opened once more.
+
+In a weak, wavering tone came disjointed words.
+
+"You said--you--would shoot him--like a dog--and I told you--it
+would--kill--me if you--did."
+
+As white as his captive, Durham stood dumbfounded.
+
+The feeling of horror which had come upon him when first he recognised
+the face overwhelmed him. His heart went dead and his brain numbed. All
+the roseate dreams of his romance turned to dull grey leaden grief to
+flaunt and mock him.
+
+Like the panoramic vision said to come to the minds of the drowning, the
+incidents on which his love had dwelt in cherishing delight passed
+before him. He saw again the sparkling eyes which had filled him with
+such gladness when first that love had come to him; saw the picture made
+by the wonderfully graceful form leaning against the verandah at Waroona
+Downs, bathed in the soft, romantic light of the new-born moon; saw the
+pleading face turned to him as the gentle voice spoke endearing words to
+gain a passing favour; saw once more that fleeting, taunting vision on
+which he had built so much despite the warning to beware of the vagaries
+of a delirium-swayed brain.
+
+The visions passed. Before him, crippled and ghastly in the last agony
+of life, lay the author of this diabolical outrage upon every
+sensibility of his manhood.
+
+A rage of blind, ungovernable fury swept over him. The primitive
+instinct of revenge, the savage longing to wreak, while there was yet
+time, a last fierce vengeance on the one who had betrayed him, filled
+his being. With a cry which ended in a curse he sprang to where his
+carbine lay, seized it by the barrel, and swung it round his head as he
+turned back upon his prisoner.
+
+A gasping sigh came from the prostrate form, and the head rolled lolling
+to one side.
+
+The carbine fell from Durham's hands and he stood motionless, looking
+down at the figure from which all signs of life had gone.
+
+As quickly as it had come the paroxysm of rage left him.
+
+The man was dying, if not dead, and the hideous riddle of the mystery
+still unsolved!
+
+He must not die! He must not pass beyond the reach of human knowledge
+with the truth of that tragic drama in which he had played the leading
+part unrevealed.
+
+Durham rushed to the pool, filled his cap with water and came back with
+it. Lifting up the drooping head, he moistened the nerveless lips and
+bathed the cold temples and pallid cheeks.
+
+"In the--cave--rum."
+
+The whisper was just loud enough for him to hear. Leaning the head once
+more against the stone, Durham staggered to the cave. A dark heap lay on
+the ground in the shadow. He struck a match.
+
+Numbed as his brain was by the revelation that had come to him, he
+shrank back at what he saw.
+
+A pile of woman's clothes; the skirt and jacket which had been impressed
+upon his memory only a few hours before under circumstances which form,
+perhaps, the one occasion when a man heeds and remembers what a woman
+wears; the jaunty hat which had exerted so great a spell upon the
+masculine population of the district, and beside it, the most horrible
+of all, a wig of luxuriant coal-black hair from which the subtle perfume
+that had so often charmed him still floated.
+
+With hands which shook so that he could scarcely hold it, he took the
+bottle of rum, bearing Soden's label, from the ground beside the
+clothes, and hastened to the mouth of the cave.
+
+In the cold moonlight the figure lay to all appearances dead.
+
+Durham tore open the front of the shirt and pushed in his hand to feel
+if the heart still beat.
+
+With the moaning cry of a heart-broken man he reeled back. Then, in a
+wild fervour born of his soul's despair, he fell on his knees beside the
+prostrate form and tenderly drew the lolling head to his breast and
+moistened the blue lips with the spirit.
+
+"Oh, speak! Speak to me! Nora, speak to me and tell me," he wailed.
+
+He reached to take her hands and remembered how he had bound the arms.
+Quickly he set them free and chafed the limp fingers.
+
+"Rum--quick--drink," came in a wavering whisper, and he poured some of
+the potent spirit between the lips.
+
+Holding her in his arms, with her head resting on his shoulder, he
+waited, listening to her faint breathing.
+
+"A little more and--I----"
+
+She was able to raise her hand to steady the bottle which he held. Then
+her head fell over again and she lay inert.
+
+He turned his face to watch her. In a momentary fit of remorse and grief
+he pressed his lips to hers.
+
+One of her arms stole round his neck and held him to her.
+
+"Oh, my darling, my darling, how I have loved you," he heard her
+whisper. "Why did you come to me so late?"
+
+Like a chill of death the words went through his brain.
+
+"Tell me--everything," he whispered.
+
+"Yes--before I die--if I can."
+
+"Who are you?" he said. "What is your real name?"
+
+"Nora O'Guire. I am Kitty Lambton's youngest daughter. I told you her
+story."
+
+"And Patsy?"
+
+"He was my father."
+
+"Was?"
+
+"Yes. He is at the house--dead--Dudgeon--shot him."
+
+"Who was it robbed the bank?"
+
+"Dad and I."
+
+"And Eustace?"
+
+"No. He was innocent."
+
+A shudder of horror passed over him. The woman whom he had loved with
+such an abandon, this woman whom he held even then in his arms--he
+shrank away from her, letting her fall against the stone as the grim,
+sordid horror of the tragedy she was revealing grew plain before him.
+
+"Ah, don't leave me--don't--don't," she moaned. "Let me die in your
+arms--let me--oh, I love you, love you beyond all else. I will tell you
+everything--everything--only still hold me."
+
+"How did Eustace die?" His voice rang hard and pitiless.
+
+"Oh! Give me this one last joy on earth. I am not all bad. Don't deny me
+now. Hold me in your arms, beloved. I had no faith in man or God till I
+met you, and you were good to me--in the coach--have you forgotten?
+Don't desert me--now."
+
+Like a jagged claw rending harp-strings the phrases jarred and jangled
+every chord within his being.
+
+"Oh, why--why----?" he cried. "Why did you come to this?"
+
+"Hold me and I will tell you."
+
+He knelt by her side, taking her head again upon his shoulder while she
+clutched at his hand.
+
+"My strength is going--more rum--quick."
+
+He held the bottle to her mouth in silence, loving, loathing, pitying,
+and condemning.
+
+"Now. Don't stop me. Don't interrupt--only listen."
+
+She lay still for a few minutes, gathering the last of her energy.
+Presently she began.
+
+"Dad, O'Guire that is, was driven to stealing. Mother too. All the other
+little ones died but me. Dad trained me. Write to the police in London
+and ask about Nora O'Guire--there are lots of other names, but they know
+me under all as Nora O'Guire. Then mother died. She made me swear not to
+rest till we had revenged her on Dudgeon. We came out, Dad and I, came
+out to find him. I bluffed the bank."
+
+"But the deeds you had with you--were they forgeries?"
+
+"No. I stole them. From a solicitor's office in Dublin--he probably does
+not know they are missing. Write to him."
+
+"Where are they now?"
+
+"In the cellar under the house--in a stone jar. His name is on them. The
+bank-notes are there too. The gold is in a----"
+
+"I have found that."
+
+She raised her head.
+
+"You found it? When?"
+
+"Early to-day. Before I met you."
+
+The head fell back. "I am glad," she said. "You are the first man to
+beat me--but I love you."
+
+"Tell me how you managed to deceive everyone as you did."
+
+"I acted. Once, for a time, when things got too hot for us, I went on
+the stage. It threw the 'tecks off the scent. I wanted to stay at it,
+for I liked it, but mother was mad to ruin Dudgeon, and Dad could not
+keep straight. So we began again. I wore a wig and made up. You'll find
+it in the cave."
+
+"I have seen it."
+
+"Oh, if I could only have married you," she gasped. "If I had only met
+you earlier!"
+
+"But about Eustace," he said quietly.
+
+"Yes, I'll tell you. I went to the bank--like this--and saw Eustace. I
+slipped into the kitchen and drugged the tea. I knew they all took it.
+Then Dad and I broke in. It was quite easy. I climbed up the verandah,
+opened the back door, and let Dad in. They were all dead asleep. We took
+the keys and cleared the safe. Every place was locked up again and left
+just as we found it. Dad went out, and when I had locked the back door
+I went over the verandah again."
+
+"How did you get the gold away?"
+
+"The buggy was in the bush. We whitewashed the horses as a blind. We
+knew they hated the colour up here. It puzzled everyone."
+
+"But when did you discover this place?"
+
+"Dad knew it in the old days. He and mother used to meet here in
+secret--there is a way across to the ford--the water gets shallow in one
+place--it was there Dad shot----"
+
+Her voice caught and she turned appealing eyes to him as she struggled
+for breath.
+
+"Give me--rum," she muttered, and he rested her head on his arm, while
+he slowly poured some of the spirit between her lips. For a time she lay
+so still he thought she had gone, till there came a wavering sigh and
+she moved her head slightly.
+
+"It was--nearly--over----" she whispered.
+
+"About Eustace?" he said. "Can you tell me now?"
+
+"Yes--I'll try," she answered. "Don't leave me--stay with me till the
+end, won't you? Give me--your word."
+
+"I will stay," he replied.
+
+The head resting on his arm turned until the eyes looked straight into
+his. They were filled with the gentle light he had seen in them when,
+through the momentary lifting of the veil of unconsciousness, he had
+been enabled to catch a glimpse of her real nature.
+
+"Then I'll tell you--everything," she whispered. "We had to fix
+suspicion on someone. When I saw him he had no nerve. I offered to
+shelter him. He agreed, and I let him out of the window, and pretended
+to go on talking to him all the time he was getting away into the bush.
+You know what happened then."
+
+"At the bank? Yes. But what became of Eustace?"
+
+"He was at the house. He was there the night you came. He nearly gave
+himself up. He was coming when he heard you say who you were. So Dad
+knocked him on the head and put him in the cellar."
+
+"While I was there?" Durham exclaimed.
+
+"Yes. When you went to see to your horse. Then later we had to trick
+you. Dad put something in the tea like I did at the bank, only it would
+have killed you all he put in. He wanted to. He wanted to after, and
+tried to, but I--I wouldn't let him--because I loved you. But I made you
+sleep that night--Dad had to make fresh tea, and I put the stuff in. We
+watched you go off on the verandah while you were smoking, and then tied
+you up. It was hard to make you wake, but we had to--Dad had taken
+Eustace's handkerchief--we knew you would be convinced if you found
+it--after seeing me--and we--we shot your horse, and made the others
+bolt."
+
+"But afterwards? What happened to Eustace afterwards?" he asked as she
+stopped.
+
+"We had to keep him there, then, because he knew. He was there in the
+cellar the night you came from Taloona. You heard him cry out. So Dad
+brought him here and tied him up. He was here all the time you were at
+the house. The evening after you saw Brennan, when you talked to me on
+the verandah, Dad came and found him escaping. Dad killed him. He had
+to. He shammed drunk next day, so that you should not suspect him. There
+is a short cut from the house, and Dad took it after you left, and got
+to the ford before you. That's all."
+
+"When Taloona was stuck up----"
+
+"Dad and I," she said. "We didn't know you were there. You hit me, and
+I--oh, darling, it broke my heart when I saw you fall, but I had to.
+That is why I took you away to nurse you. I kissed you when you didn't
+know."
+
+"The other night--when you rode through the town?"
+
+She lay silent and he repeated the question.
+
+"I was--half drunk. So was Dad. We did it out of devilment. They were
+all such fools--all but you--and you nearly shot me. The bullet grazed
+my horse. You will see the cut on the shoulder. You nearly caught Dad.
+He was in the police-station when you got back. He cracked every crib in
+the place--I wasn't in that."
+
+"Where did he hide?" Durham asked.
+
+"In the yard--where Eustace was--you never looked there."
+
+A convulsive shudder ran through her.
+
+"But to-night--where were you going to-night when I met you?" he asked.
+
+"To kill Dudgeon. Dad only just got home. I could die happy if I only
+had."
+
+Again her frame quivered, and she was racked with a fierce struggle to
+get her breath. She lay against him, her head resting in the hollow of
+his arm, her eyes closed, and her mouth twitching.
+
+"Tell him," she whispered between her panting gasps. "Tell
+him--I--tried----"
+
+He touched her hands lying limply in her lap; they were icy cold. Her
+head was growing heavy on his arm and her lips were turning blue. He
+moistened them once more with rum as her breathing became almost
+imperceptible.
+
+For a moment her eyes opened and looked into his with an expression of
+wonderful tenderness.
+
+"Dudgeon is already dead," he whispered gently.
+
+She started and tried to sit up, but could only raise her head.
+
+"Dead," she whispered. "Dead!"
+
+Then, as though the news galvanised her waning strength into one last
+tumultuous effort, she flung out her arms and sat up, with wide-open
+eyes staring fixedly into space.
+
+"Dad! Dad!" she cried. "You did--you did, Dad. Oh, thank----"
+
+Her arms fell, her head lolled forward, and her body lurched against
+Durham as, with a broken, gasping sigh, she collapsed into a nerveless,
+jointless thing.
+
+He bent his head and placed his ear to her breast above her heart. There
+was not the faintest throb, and he took his arm from around her. As he
+did so she rolled over, her face upturned towards the moon, at which her
+wide-open eyes stared and her mouth gaped.
+
+The Rider of Waroona was dead!
+
+With bowed head and aching heart Durham bent over her.
+
+All the love of his nature which had lain dormant for so long had gone
+out to this woman, enfolding her, idealising her, until she became to
+him the completement of his being, the one incentive for all which was
+noble within him, the mainspring of his life, the lode-stone of his
+ambitions. To have won her would have been his dearest and proudest
+achievement; to have had her love would have made existence for him a
+never-ending stream of happiness and joy.
+
+As a sun new risen from the night she had come into his life, bringing
+light and warmth and peace where there had been only coldness and
+unrest. So he had dreamed of her only that morning; so she had appeared
+to him only a few hours since when, at her bidding, trusting her,
+believing in her, loving her, he had turned his back on his
+duty--betrayed.
+
+Resentment at the treachery warred with his love and tinged his sorrow
+with bitterness. How she had played with him, tricking him, fooling him,
+outwitting him--and yet loving him.
+
+The memory of the last fond look of lingering tenderness which had been
+in her eyes ere he told her Dudgeon was dead came to him. Why had he
+told her that? Why had he not let her die as she was then, with the
+gentle side of her nature dominating her, filled with the one soft
+impulse she perhaps had ever known?
+
+The words had slipped from his tongue almost before he knew, and on the
+instant there had come back to her the overshadowing influence which had
+warped her life for evil even before she was born.
+
+By his hand she had died; by his words her last moments had been filled
+with the blackness of insensate hate.
+
+Before the mute condemnation of that self-accusing thought the
+bitterness which had been in his mind against her dissipated. Whatever
+ills she had done to him, he had done greater to her. Whatever ills she
+had done to humanity were the outcome not of her own nature, but of the
+circumstances and conditions which had governed her from the moment she
+was born. All that she had said during the last evening he spent at her
+house recurred to him and a new significance dawned into the words.
+
+She had spoken of herself, pleaded for herself, striven to rouse his
+sympathy and compassion, so that, within the sombre barrenness of her
+ill-starred life, one spot there might be where the loving kindness of
+human charity had fallen and made it bright. He remembered how he had
+answered her--coldly, sternly, crushing down her awakening soul with the
+same callous indifference which had always met her. With the pitiless
+weight of a loveless life, what wonder she was warped, distorted,
+marred? More sinned against than sinning, he had no right nor will to
+blame her--only the love she had inspired in him remained, to fill his
+heart with sadness and drag it down with the hopeless desolation of vain
+regrets.
+
+For she had gone from him even as she revealed the love she bore him,
+gone into the darkness by his own act, gone--his throat grew hard until
+he choked as the thought came to him--gone from a greater degradation
+he, by the merciless irony of fate, would have had to fasten upon her.
+
+Better, a thousand times better for her, that she should be as she was
+than that she should have lived to face the doom awaiting her--better
+for her--and better for him.
+
+It was nothing to him now that the story she had told showed her, by all
+the laws of humanity, to be unworthy. Black as she had painted herself,
+the love she had inspired shone through the blackness, revealing only
+that which lay beyond, the radiant purpose, unmeasurable by human
+standards, transcending human ken.
+
+He knelt again by her side, taking her cold hands in his and placing
+them upon her breast, closing the staring eyes, composing the
+wry-drooped mouth, straightening the twisted limbs.
+
+"Oh, my love, my love," he wailed. "Sleep on in peace. Sleep on till I
+shall come to you. Wait for me, for I must stay awhile yet to shield and
+shelter you so that none may know the secret of your life."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE ASHES OF SILENCE
+
+
+Wallace and Harding were seeing all was secure in the bank before
+retiring for the night when a sharp rap sounded at the front door.
+
+"Hullo, what's this?" Wallace exclaimed. "Will you see who it is?"
+
+Harding went to the door and opened it. On the step Durham was standing.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Durham. Come in," he said. "We've been discussing things
+or we should have been in bed an hour or more ago. What's the news?"
+
+Without a word Durham stepped in and walked to the room where Wallace
+was waiting at the door. Directly he came into the light both Harding
+and Wallace uttered exclamations of surprise.
+
+"Why, what has happened?" the latter cried. "My dear fellow--you look
+thoroughly done up--you are as haggard as a man of sixty. You've
+overdone it. Let me get you a whisky."
+
+Durham shook his head and sat down, resting one hand on the table at his
+side, the other on his knee. His uniform was soiled and torn, his face
+lined and grey, and his eyes heavy as with a great weariness. The quick
+alertness he had shown when he was with them earlier in the day had
+gone; he looked, as Wallace had expressed it, an old, haggard man,
+listless, without vitality, lacking even the energy to talk.
+
+The two stood watching him in silence, the same question in each one's
+mind--what could have happened to produce so great a change in a man in
+so short a time?
+
+"Are you sure you won't let me get you something?" Wallace said
+presently as Durham neither moved nor spoke. "You are quite worn out.
+Won't you take----"
+
+Durham raised his hand as he shook his head again.
+
+"I only want you to send away a telegram at once to your head office,"
+he said in a voice so dull and hollow that it caused even a greater
+shock to his companions than his appearance had done.
+
+"There would not be anyone to receive it at this time of night," Wallace
+replied. "But it shall go the first thing in the morning."
+
+"If you will write it now, I will leave it at the post office," Durham
+said in the same lifeless tone.
+
+Wallace rose, forcing a smile.
+
+"It is already written, Durham," he said pleasantly. "It states you have
+succeeded in recovering the stolen gold, and asks for authority to pay
+you the reward at once and in public."
+
+"You must not send that."
+
+The forced smile faded as Wallace stood staring; the expression both in
+Durham's voice and on his face was so hopelessly despondent, that into
+Wallace's mind there came a fear lest the recovered gold had again
+disappeared.
+
+"Not send that?" he asked wonderingly. "Why? You said----"
+
+"I know. But you must not send it--now. Write another."
+
+"The gold is lost?" Wallace exclaimed.
+
+"No. The gold is safe; it is on its way here now--Brennan is bringing
+it. What you must report at once is that Eustace was innocent."
+
+"Eustace innocent?"
+
+Wallace and Harding uttered the exclamation simultaneously.
+
+"Innocent. Absolutely innocent. Tell Mrs. Eustace too. It may bring her
+a grain of comfort in her distress."
+
+Without raising his head or lifting his eyes, Durham spoke in the voice
+of a man upon whom the weight of desolation has fallen. To his hearers
+it suggested failure, defeat, and the consequent loss of professional
+prestige. To Wallace, whose concern was mostly for the recovery of the
+Bank's money, the suggestion did not convey so much as it did to
+Harding. He knew more of Durham's views, had heard him express time and
+again his absolute conviction as to the guilt of Eustace. The case, as
+Durham had put it, was so entirely clear against the late manager that
+to hear him now declared innocent, and by the man who had accumulated
+evidence against him, reduced Harding's mind to a blank.
+
+"What are you saying, Durham?" he heard Wallace exclaim with impatience.
+"What do you mean? Eustace innocent? Why--great Heavens, man, if he were
+innocent----"
+
+"He was absolutely innocent, Mr. Wallace. As innocent as Mr. Harding."
+
+"But----" Harding passed his hand across his forehead.
+
+"It is true," Durham said in a subdued tone. "I was entirely misled,
+entirely."
+
+"But--then--well, how was the bank robbed?" Harding cried.
+
+"I know how it was robbed; by whom it was robbed; everything," Durham
+replied.
+
+"Who was it?" Wallace asked.
+
+Durham remained silent, his eyes fixed on the floor.
+
+"The Rider?" Harding said.
+
+"That name will do. The Rider and another. They are both dead. I saw one
+die--from a bullet in the back. I fired it. I have seen the other dead
+from a bullet Mr. Dudgeon fired. The missing notes I have recovered. I
+have them here."
+
+He put his hand inside his tunic and drew out a closely tied bundle
+which he laid on the table.
+
+"Will you check them and see if the total is correct?"
+
+"Now?" Wallace asked.
+
+"If you please."
+
+"But will not to-morrow morning do? It is enough to have as many as
+these back without going through them so late at night."
+
+"I shall not be here to-morrow."
+
+"You are surely not going away--not until----"
+
+"I shall not be here to-morrow," Durham repeated.
+
+The tone in which he spoke stopped further discussion.
+
+"We can check them in here--I will fetch the register," Harding said, as
+he rose and went to the office, returning in a few moments with the
+book.
+
+While he and Wallace checked the notes with the list of those stolen,
+Durham sat at the end of the table in the same position he had first
+assumed.
+
+"They are all here," Wallace said in a subdued voice, when the checking
+was complete. The presence of this grey-faced, silent, sad-eyed man was
+getting on his nerves.
+
+"The gold and the things stolen from the bank will be here in a few
+minutes; Brennan is bringing them."
+
+"And the deeds--Mrs. Burke's deeds? Have you no trace of them?"
+
+"They are returned to the owner."
+
+"But they ought to be here. The Bank advanced money on them."
+
+"I am sorry. I cannot help it now. You will have to hold the deeds of
+Waroona Downs instead."
+
+"We have those," Harding said quietly.
+
+"Oh, well then, it does not matter so much, though it is still very
+irregular, you know," Wallace replied.
+
+Durham stood up and turned to Harding. "You will tell Mrs. Eustace? Tell
+her I am more than sorry for her in her trouble, but she can console
+herself that she was right. Her husband was innocent. Good-bye."
+
+With bent head and slow steps he passed from the room and from the bank,
+closing the door after him.
+
+"But what does it mean? What does it all mean?" Wallace cried as the
+front door slammed.
+
+"We may know to-morrow," Harding replied. "There must be something
+horribly tragic to have affected Durham so much. Better leave it as it
+stands, I think. He would have spoken had there been anything more he
+could have said."
+
+"Did he mean the gold was coming here to-night?"
+
+"I gathered so. Shall I walk up to the station and ask Brennan?"
+
+But before he could do so Brennan arrived at the bank.
+
+"Where will you have it put?" he asked. "I've got it out at the back by
+the fence."
+
+"We'll both give you a hand with it," Wallace replied.
+
+They went out at the back door. A light cart was standing beyond the
+fence, with something in it covered by a tarpaulin. Brennan pulled the
+cover away and revealed the pile of bags.
+
+"There is hardly anything missing," Wallace exclaimed when everything
+had been carried into the bank and the amount checked. "It is one of the
+smartest things I have ever encountered. The way your sub-inspector has
+traced and recovered this is nothing short of marvellous."
+
+"He told me to say, sir, that it seemed to him only a right thing for
+you to do to let Mr. Eustace be brought here so that the funeral could
+be from the bank."
+
+"Well, of course we must consult Mrs. Eustace about that," Wallace
+answered. "I'll see Mr. Durham in the morning----"
+
+"Sorry to say you won't, sir," Brennan interrupted. "He's on his way now
+to the junction. He told me that what he had discovered he would have to
+report personally to the chief. Just what it is I haven't the faintest
+idea, but it's something pretty hot, if you ask me. I've never seen the
+sub-inspector curled up over anything like he is over this."
+
+"He told us he had shot the Rider," Harding said.
+
+"Oh, yes, sir, he told me that too. What I'm inclined to think is that
+he discovered him to be a member of some big family in the south, and
+is anxious for their sake to keep the name secret. It's just the sort of
+thing some young blood might do if he were in an awkward hole--a chance
+of lifting a big sum such as this is a pretty strong temptation to
+anyone in a hole."
+
+"That may be it. One never knows. He may even have been a friend of
+Durham's," Wallace said musingly. "Certainly something has upset him
+very much. You don't know what became of the papers he found, do you?
+The papers Mrs. Burke left with the Bank?" he added.
+
+"I know nothing about them, sir; but he told me to ride out to Waroona
+Downs the first thing in the morning and tell Mrs. Burke to come in and
+see you. Perhaps she may know something about them."
+
+"Ah, very likely," Wallace said. "He told us he had returned them to the
+owner. I expect that is it, Harding. He has sent or given them to her.
+She will be able to put the matter straight, however, when she comes
+in."
+
+"I should have liked to let Mrs. Eustace know to-night, but it is too
+late now," Harding remarked. "It's long after midnight."
+
+"Go over directly after breakfast in the morning. I'll see to the office
+until you return. It will be necessary to wire to the general manager
+about Durham's suggestion, but we must have her opinion first."
+
+"I suppose she has heard about Mr. Dudgeon," Harding said. "It's a bad
+business all through."
+
+"There is his will, Harding; don't forget that. Not many people would be
+inclined to call that a bad business if they were in Mrs. Eustace's
+place."
+
+It was the one grain of comfort Harding felt he was carrying with him
+when, on the following morning, he walked through the town to Smart's
+cottage.
+
+Already the news of the Rider's end was common property. When Mrs.
+Eustace came to him in the little sitting-room, it was of that she
+spoke.
+
+"Oh, who was he, Fred? Bessie heard that Mr. Durham had refused to tell
+anyone but you. Is that so? Surely I may know. Surely I am entitled to
+so small a satisfaction as that?"
+
+"I do not know who he was," Harding replied. "Durham came to us late
+last night, too late for me to come and tell you, but he mentioned no
+name. He said something I would have liked to have been able to repeat
+to you at once, but it was too late. So I have come as early as this.
+Durham asked me specially to come. He said--he hoped you----"
+
+She drew herself up as he paused, clasped her hands, and pressed them to
+her breast.
+
+"What is it, Fred? You have some--something terrible--to say," she said
+in a whisper.
+
+"Not terrible, Jess, but it is sad. Durham said he hoped you would find
+some consolation in it. So do I. So do we all. The Rider, whoever he may
+have been, confessed. He said Eustace was innocent."
+
+She remained quite still, without a sound, staring at him.
+
+"The bank was robbed by the Rider and another, Durham said, but Eustace
+was not one of the two. He was absolutely innocent. We have wired to the
+general manager to say so."
+
+"Fred, I don't believe it. I can't believe it. Why did he run away if he
+were innocent? I will never rest until I know who the man Mr. Durham
+shot really was. Where is Mr. Durham?"
+
+"He has left Waroona, Jess. He told Brennan he could only report
+personally to his chief the truth about the man. Brennan thinks he was
+someone connected with one of the big families, and that is why the name
+is not made known."
+
+"But I insist on knowing. Was he shot? Is it true, or is it some hideous
+blind? I will know, Fred, I will know!"
+
+"Durham was too much cut up when he came to us last night, Jess, for it
+to be a blind. A tragedy it may be, but not a blind."
+
+"But who was the man? Whoever he was he killed Charlie, killed him,
+Fred. They have no right to hide his name. Besides--how do we know he
+was shot? Durham said so, but where is the body?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Jess," he said, "it is sad enough. What the mystery is I cannot say,
+but if it has cleared Charlie's name----"
+
+She sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands.
+
+"Oh, that will not bring him back!" she sobbed. "What will that do now?"
+
+He bent over her, with his hand on her shoulder.
+
+"I know," he said, "I know how bitter it is, how hard."
+
+"I said they would find him innocent when--when he had gone," she
+exclaimed.
+
+"The Bank wants to make what amends it can," he said softly. "Will you
+let----"
+
+"Oh, don't ask me," she moaned. "I know what you would say. Do as you
+think best."
+
+"Then I will arrange it?"
+
+She bent her head in answer.
+
+"I should have gone away," she said as she rose and walked across the
+room. "You were right. I should never have stayed, never, never!"
+
+"Don't think me cruel, Jess," he said; "but there is something more I
+must tell you. Have you heard about Mr. Dudgeon?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Oh, yes," she answered. "Poor old man. He was here yesterday. He----"
+
+"He came to the bank," he said, as she was silent. "He left something in
+my charge, Jess, and made me promise you should have it at once if
+anything happened to him. It was his will. He has left everything to
+you."
+
+She turned quickly.
+
+"Fred--Fred----" she gasped as she held out her hands and groped in the
+air.
+
+He caught her as she swayed.
+
+For a time she lay in his arms, finding a woman's relief in a flood of
+tears. Not until she grew calm did he speak.
+
+"You must go away to-morrow," he said softly. "Go away and rest where
+you will not be harassed by all the memories which cling around this
+place. Promise me you will."
+
+She raised her head and looked him in the face through her tears.
+
+"Fred, you know why I cannot leave. Even now, with all this tragedy over
+me, with him--lying over there--he whom I suspected and blamed--don't
+think ill of me; but my heart would have been broken but for you."
+
+He drew her to him again, held her close to him, kissed her upturned
+lips.
+
+"I will leave too," he whispered. "I will come after. Will you promise
+now?"
+
+"Yes," she answered simply.
+
+When he returned to the bank, Brennan rode up at a gallop.
+
+"Oh, a terrible thing has happened!" he cried as he came into the
+office. "Waroona Downs has been burned to the ground in the night and
+both Mrs. Burke and old Patsy burned to death in their beds. I warned
+her that one of these days that drunken old man would do some damage,
+but she wouldn't listen to me. Now there's the place in ruins and ashes.
+It must have burned out hours ago, for there's not a spark left, only
+the remains of the two lying charred to cinders."
+
+Coming on top of the other news circulating amongst the townsfolk, the
+destruction of Waroona Downs, with its two inmates, exhausted the local
+capacity for wonder.
+
+The whole township followed Eustace from the bank, forgetting their
+earlier condemnation of him now that his innocence had been declared,
+and being only anxious to testify their sympathy with the woman who had
+suffered so much in their midst. They would have turned out _en masse_
+and escorted her some miles on her way to the junction when she set out
+from Waroona for the south, but word was passed round that she wanted to
+go away in silence, unobserved.
+
+Three months later Harding followed her. There was no staying the
+township then. He was the last of the active participants in the tragic
+mystery to leave the place, and it was an open secret he was going to
+join the one for whom they all felt deeply. So they made up in his
+send-off for the restraint they had exercised upon themselves when she
+bade the town a silent farewell.
+
+The memory of that festivity still lives in the local annals, and ever,
+as a stranger asks for the story of the Rider, the send-off of the
+banker is the conclusion of the tale. In vain the stranger may ask for
+particulars as to who the Rider was.
+
+The charred ashes of Waroona Downs had no tongue wherewith to tell what
+happened the night fire came to wipe the homestead from the earth.
+
+
+     WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD
+     PRINTERS PLYMOUTH
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rider of Waroona, by Firth Scott
+
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rider of Waroona, by Firth Scott
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Rider of Waroona
+
+Author: Firth Scott
+
+Release Date: October 27, 2008 [EBook #27061]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIDER OF WAROONA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Wall and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<h1>The Rider of Waroona</h1>
+
+<h2>By</h2>
+<h2>Firth Scott</h2>
+
+<div class="center">Author of<br />
+"The Track of Midnight," "The Last Lemurian,"
+"Romance of Polar Exploration," etc.</div>
+<p> <br /> </p>
+<div class="center">London<br />
+John Long, Limited <br />
+Norris Street, Haymarket <br /> <br />
+<i>All rights reserved</i></div>
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<div class="center"><i>First Published in 1912</i></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>SOME PRESS OPINIONS OF THE AUTHOR'S WORKS</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Daily Chronicle:</i>&mdash;"Mr. Scott knows the colonial,
+native born, to the bones and the marrow."</p>
+
+<p><i>Westminster Gazette:</i>&mdash;"To say that each of them
+is a gem is not saying too much."</p>
+
+<p><i>Globe:</i>&mdash;"Mr. Firth Scott writes a straightforward,
+vigorous style, and has a keen eye for effective
+incident."</p>
+
+<p><i>World:</i>&mdash;"Deserves grateful recognition by lovers
+of tales well told."</p>
+
+<p><i>Scotsman:</i>&mdash;"Characteristically Australian."</p>
+
+<p><i>Morning Post:</i>&mdash;"The story of Australian settlement
+is of enthralling interest."</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday Review:</i>&mdash;"This interesting and instructive
+book is very pleasant reading."</p>
+
+<p><i>Literary World:</i>&mdash;"Mr. Firth Scott's stories are,
+alternately imbued with rare glamour and realism.
+In either atmosphere he is entertaining, and in both
+convincing."</p>
+
+<div class="center"><i>AT ALL LIBRARIES AND BOOKSELLERS</i></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents">
+
+
+<tr><td align='right'>I</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Crotchety Dudgeon</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_I">9</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>II</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Riddle</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_II">21</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>III</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Disappeared</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_III">34</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>IV</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Durham's Surmise</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">44</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>V</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Burke's Presentiment</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_V">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VI</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Face at the Window</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">79</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VII</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Snared</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">93</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VIII</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Note that Failed</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">103</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>IX</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Dudgeon's Hospitality</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>X</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"Fooled"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_X">133</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XI</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Burke's Rebuff</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">156</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XII</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">As Through a Mist</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">173</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XIII</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Revenge is Sweet</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">191</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XIV</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Last Straw</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">211</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XV</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Rider's Scorn</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">227</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XVI</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Love's Conquest</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">244</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XVII</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Dudgeon Proposes</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">265</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XVIII</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Unmasked</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">286</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XIX</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Ashes of Silence</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">307</a></td></tr>
+
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>CROTCHETY DUDGEON</h3>
+
+
+<p>In an old, rackety, single-horse buggy, a vehicle
+which, to judge by the antiquity of its build and
+appearance and the rattle of its loose worn bolts,
+might have done duty since the days of the first
+pioneers, Dudgeon drove from his homestead to the
+bank.</p>
+
+<p>He was a man who never discarded any article
+of use or clothing until it was hopelessly beyond
+repair. With a huge fortune stowed away in gilt-edged
+securities and metropolitan house property,
+he grudged even a coat of paint for the vehicle he
+had driven for nearly forty years. The local wheelwright
+had long since declined to attempt to repair
+it, so the old man fell back on fencing-wire and his
+own skill whenever the final collapse seemed imminent.</p>
+
+<p>There was a legend circulating among the older
+residents of the district as to the reason for his
+peculiarities. To the younger generation it was
+merely an out-of-date story, for young Australia<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+has scant heed for everything which does not come
+within his own personal range of experience or
+knowledge. But the legend, as extant, gave some
+significance to the seemingly unreasonable actions
+of the eccentric old man.</p>
+
+<p>In the early days, when railways were not and the
+land was open and free for the bold young bloods to
+conquer, Dudgeon had come out from the coastal
+cities of the south. He had health and strength, and
+a heart which knew not fear; but whatever of wealth
+he had had was left in the hands of gambling sharks
+in the cities whence he came. He arrived at the
+township on foot, a rare occurrence in those days
+when no man journeyed half a mile except in the
+saddle. But the fact that he had walked "looking
+for work," as he said, drew so much attention to
+him that offers were made from all sides to hire his
+services. He accepted the best, and went to Waroona
+Downs with the then owner, one Henry Lambton,
+who, with his wife and daughter, resided at the
+house beyond the range.</p>
+
+<p>Another was there also, a young man about
+Dudgeon's age, an Irishman named O'Guire, a
+dashing, reckless fellow who made up in sharpness
+of wit and trickery what he lacked in moral stability
+and scruples. Indirectly, he was the pivot on
+which the course of Dudgeon's life turned from the
+normal.</p>
+
+<p>The direct cause was Kitty Lambton.</p>
+
+<p>In a community where men predominate, every
+woman ranks as a belle; but throughout Waroona
+and the districts for hundreds of miles round, Kitty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
+was queen, acknowledged even by her sister rivals.
+Before her charms young Dudgeon fell prostrate in
+adoration, and she, jealous of her sway over all
+with whom she came in contact, trifled and philandered
+with him until neither earth nor heaven
+held anything more adorable for him than herself.
+He was her slave, devoting himself to her with such
+abandon that her vanity was gratified to the extent
+of influencing her, when others began to remark
+upon the manly attractions of her admirer, to allow
+him the privilege of believing that she would marry
+him.</p>
+
+<p>But she was only trifling with him, callously and
+not too gently, for the edification of herself and her
+real lover, O'Guire. The truth leaked out when one
+day O'Guire vanished from the district and with
+him vanished Kitty.</p>
+
+<p>Thereafter Dudgeon was a changed man. Filled
+with an insensate belief that Lambton and his wife
+were mainly, if not entirely, responsible for an ill
+which brought them almost as much suffering as it
+brought him, he went from the place, hugging schemes
+of deep vengeance to his breast. It was in the days
+of the early gold finds, and Fortune showered on
+Dudgeon her compensation for the injury of Love.
+All that came to him he took and treasured, until
+he had enough for his purpose. Then he returned to
+Waroona, and set about exacting the full measure
+of his revenge upon the Lambtons.</p>
+
+<p>He drove them from Waroona Downs, following
+them from the district when they went, following
+them until he found them living with Kitty and her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
+husband in one of the southern cities, struggling
+fiercely for a bare existence. The slings and arrows
+of misfortune had not brought out the better side
+of O'Guire's nature and, at the time Dudgeon pounced
+down upon them, he had only just emerged from
+prison. Detail was lacking in the current legend
+as to what immediately happened thereafter, for
+when Dudgeon came back to Waroona Downs he
+was silent on the subject, and only rumours filtered
+through of Lambton and his wife going down, each
+heart-broken, to a pauper's grave, while O'Guire
+and his wife barely eluded the final act of vengeance
+by escaping over sea.</p>
+
+<p>Under Dudgeon's ownership Waroona Downs
+flourished, and later he acquired the largest station
+in the district. The success he enjoyed at Waroona
+Downs followed him. His ownership of Taloona alone
+made him the richest man in the community.</p>
+
+<p>But no amount of money could bring back to him
+the nature which had been his before the bitterness
+of betrayal changed him to a misanthropical cynic.
+His hatred of women was not appeased by the
+revenge he had on the Lambtons and O'Guires. He
+would not employ a woman; he would not employ
+a man who was married; he would not tolerate the
+presence of a woman on any of his properties. However
+valuable a man might be to him as an employee,
+instant dismissal was inevitable directly that man
+announced his intention of marrying.</p>
+
+<p>In one instance the effect of this rule recoiled almost
+entirely on his own head, but that did not deter
+Dudgeon from adhering to it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He employed a man, first as overseer, then as
+manager, and finally as confidential factotum. Unknown
+to him, Dudgeon set numberless traps and
+pitfalls to test his reliability, and when, on every
+occasion, the man came through the tests unscathed,
+he received so much consideration from the taciturn
+old misanthrope, that he was currently regarded in
+the light of the heir to the Dudgeon millions.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps something of the current belief crept
+into his own mind, for there came a time when he
+cast his eyes upon the sister of a neighbour and,
+braving the risk of Dudgeon's anger, sought her
+hand in marriage. Unfortunately for him she
+accepted him, and the news, travelling apace, reached
+the ears of Dudgeon before the happy lover had a
+chance to impart it personally. The old man rode
+direct to the station.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have no women folk on my property," he
+blurted out as soon as he was face to face with his
+factotum. "Nor any man who has dealings with
+them. Clear out."</p>
+
+<p>It was vain to argue. All appeals to years of
+bygone service, all reference to business transactions
+then pending which would be jeopardised by the
+removal of the man who had the negotiations in
+hand, were curtly brushed aside. Dudgeon had
+spoken, and no power on earth would change him
+from his purpose. The would-be Benedick had
+chosen, and by that choice he had to abide.</p>
+
+<p>From that arose a quarrel with the bank, for the
+sudden dismissal led to an important transaction
+failing for the want of a simple act. The bank officials,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
+knowing the man with whom they were dealing
+waited for the instructions which never came. Had
+they acted without them he would probably have
+repudiated their action, but as they did not act,
+he blamed them for his loss, accused them of dishonesty
+and removed his account, vowing never
+to have dealings with them again if he could avoid
+it, and always putting them to the greatest inconvenience
+when he was compelled to deal with or
+through them.</p>
+
+<p>Now, by an irony of fate, he was forced to have
+dealings with them again, dealings which he resented
+for more reasons than his antagonism to the institution,
+and dealings, moreover, which he was prepared
+to leave no stone unturned to bring to
+naught.</p>
+
+<p>He had placed Waroona Downs in the hands of
+Gale, the local auctioneer, for sale. The one condition
+he had imposed was that the purchaser
+should be a resident of the district, a condition he
+had considered ample to prevent the property passing
+into the possession of one of the opposite&mdash;and
+hated&mdash;sex. Yet that condition had failed. A
+purchaser had been found, a purchaser for whom the
+bank was acting, and a purchaser who, while being
+a resident in the district, was also a woman.</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon&mdash;"Crotchety Dudgeon" as he was termed
+by his neighbours, who, despite his wealth, usually
+regarded him as being of no account in the general
+scheme of Nature&mdash;had done his best to repudiate
+the bargain; had blustered and fumed, threatening
+actions and penalties against all and sundry, but in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
+vain. The bank officials were polite, listening to
+all he had to say in silence and only speaking in
+cold, precise, formal phrases to reiterate the intention
+of the purchaser to hold to her bargain, and the
+readiness of the bank to complete, on her behalf, the
+transaction.</p>
+
+<p>He refused to meet or see her, but he could not
+help hearing of her, and what he heard only served
+to stimulate his resentment, for her name, Nora
+Burke, recalled memories of his Irish rival O'Guire,
+while the bitterness of his surrender to the charms of
+Kitty Lambton was revived when he understood that
+Mrs. Burke also belonged to the fascinating type of
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>She had, he learned, the coal-black hair of the
+Western Irish, and grey-blue eyes which flickered
+and flashed behind thick dark lashes. What her
+other features were he did not hear, for her wealth
+of hair and the charm of her eyes carried all before
+them. But, as a matter of fact, no other feature
+was conspicuously beautiful, and it was difficult to
+realise where the charm of her face rested until the
+full force of the dark-lashed eyes was recognised.
+Within them lay the secret of the power she
+wielded.</p>
+
+<p>Although not above the average height, a graceful
+and well-proportioned figure gave the impression of a
+greater stature. One of the most accomplished horsewomen
+who ever sat a side-saddle, her appearance
+on horseback would alone have sufficed, in a community
+like Waroona, to have won for her the admiration
+and homage of the public. But there were yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>
+other reasons for the popularity she acquired within
+an hour of her arrival.</p>
+
+<p>Forty miles from a railway, the township was the
+centre of a district divided into a series of sheep
+stations. When the season came for shearing the
+wool and despatching it to the markets in the cities
+on the coast hundreds of miles away, the population
+was fairly respectable in point of numbers, though
+with the riff-raff which formed the army of camp
+followers moving in the track of the shearers and
+teamsters, respectability was not otherwise manifest.
+But at other periods of the year, there were few men
+and fewer women scattered over the area marked on the
+map as Waroona, and including as many square miles
+as some English counties possess acres. Wherefore
+the arrival of any new-comer was an event; but when
+that new-comer was a woman, and one, moreover,
+of the many personal charms and accomplishments
+of Mrs. Burke, it was inevitable that her advent
+should form the subject of something more than
+passing interest.</p>
+
+<p>Her frank manner of speech also helped her,
+for there is nothing more objectionable to the
+average Colonial than the person who is reserved
+on the subject of his or her private and personal
+concerns.</p>
+
+<p>There was no such reserve with Mrs. Burke.
+She had not been twenty-four hours in Waroona
+before it was known that she was a young widow
+left with a stepson to bring up and educate on the
+rents from an impoverished Irish estate. Year by
+year it became more and more difficult, she said, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>
+collect those rents from tenants to whom politics
+were more attractive than commercial obligations.
+Therefore, when a chance occurred for her to sell the
+estate, she did not hesitate to entertain it. But, in
+order that her stepson might still derive as much
+benefit as possible from the wreck of his ancestors'
+wealth, she determined, before selling, to seek
+in Australia a new heritage for the last of the
+Burkes.</p>
+
+<p>Waroona Downs was suggested to her as the very
+place to suit her, and Gale at once offered it to her.
+The negotiations were rapidly completed, and the
+community was collectively rejoicing at the good
+fortune of having so desirable an acquisition as the
+handsome Irishwoman added to it when a miniature
+thunder-bolt fell in the form of the emphatic refusal
+of the owner to sell the property to a woman.</p>
+
+<p>Following the advice of her many friends and
+admirers, Mrs. Burke took up her residence at the
+place so that she might claim the nine points of the
+law possession is said to give, while she handed to
+the bank the deeds of her Irish property, and
+against them the bank agreed to complete the
+purchase.</p>
+
+<p>Popular opinion was entirely with the young widow,
+and popular opinion was strong enough to force
+Dudgeon back to the last resource. This was a
+demand that the purchase price of the station should
+be paid in gold.</p>
+
+<p>The price was twenty-five thousand pounds and,
+as Dudgeon well knew, there was not such a quantity
+of coin to be found in the district, where it was the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
+almost invariable practice to pay everything by cheque
+or order. He had preferred his demand formally;
+had waited for a reply that the bank was prepared
+to meet it and, as no such reply had reached him,
+was about to declare the matter at an end.</p>
+
+<p>He drew up at the bank. Eustace, the manager,
+was speaking to his assistant as the old man entered.</p>
+
+<p>"I've come for the money," he said abruptly, and
+stood by the counter, holding out his gnarled, bony
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>"You mean the purchase money for Waroona
+Downs, Mr. Dudgeon?" Eustace replied suavely.
+"You are rather early, are you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I gave you notice three days ago. You'll pay over
+or the deal's off. Which is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Harding, the assistant, passed a document to
+Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"These are the terms of the sale, Mr. Dudgeon,"
+Eustace said in the same smooth tone. "The completion
+of the purchase is to be performed one month
+from the date on which the agreement to buy was
+made. Mrs. Burke agreed on the 20th of last month.
+To-day is the 17th. She has therefore three days
+before you can make your final demand."</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon grabbed the document and read it
+through. The wording was as Eustace had said. He
+had played his card too soon.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll beat you yet," he cried as he flung the paper
+across the counter. "No matter what it costs, I'll
+never have a woman owning one of my properties.
+You're a lot of scheming scoundrels, but I'll beat
+you yet."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He bounced out and flogged his horse to a gallop
+as he drove away.</p>
+
+<p>"If the head office had sent off the gold at once
+when I wired, it would have been here by now,"
+Eustace said to his assistant.</p>
+
+<p>"Then everyone would have known it was here,
+and there is no saying what might have happened,"
+Harding jestingly answered. "Anyway, it is due
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p>Later, when the bank had closed for the day,
+a light waggon drew up at the door with a couple of
+men in it.</p>
+
+<p>"We've some books and boxes of stationery for
+you from the Wyalla branch," one of the men
+called out as Eustace opened the door and looked
+out.</p>
+
+<p>A bushman slouching past with his roll of blankets
+slung across his back, glanced round at the waggon
+and continued his way to the hotel. Eustace and
+Harding both helped to carry the bundles and boxes
+into the bank. When they were all inside Eustace
+turned to the men.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have some dinner with us before you go
+back?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't, old chap. Head office orders. Don't
+know what sort of people the general manager
+thinks you've got in this part, but the strictest
+secrecy in everything were our instructions, so Ted
+and I are teamsters and nothing but teamsters till
+we get back to our own branch. So long, old chap."</p>
+
+<p>"It does seem a lot of rot," Harding remarked
+when the waggon was away again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You haven't been here long enough to know old
+Dudgeon, Harding. Let us get the gold into the safe&mdash;we'll
+put it in the reserve recess. I only hope the
+old man comes in again to-morrow morning, so that
+we can pay it over and get clear of it and his business."</p>
+
+<p>But the next day passed without any sign of
+Dudgeon, and after a last look round to see that all
+was right Eustace and Harding bade one another
+good night with the hope that on the morrow Dudgeon
+would come for his gold, though there was still another
+day before he could legally demand it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>THE RIDDLE</h3>
+
+
+<p>At five minutes to ten the following morning Eustace
+awakened to find the sunlight streaming into his
+room, the bank in absolute silence, and his head so
+light and dizzy he could scarcely stand when he sprang
+out of bed.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at the alarm clock on the mantelpiece.
+The alarm was set for six, the hour at which Eustace
+almost invariably awakened. He had no recollection
+of hearing it ring that morning, yet only a touch was
+required to show that it had gone off at the proper
+time.</p>
+
+<p>His wife still lay in deepest slumber.</p>
+
+<p>"Jess! Jess!" he cried, as he shook her. "Wake
+up, Jess! It's nearly ten o'clock. Wake up!
+Wake up!"</p>
+
+<p>She stirred heavily, uneasily, drowsily.</p>
+
+<p>"Wake up! Wake up!" he repeated. "Look
+what time it is."</p>
+
+<p>She sat up with a gasp, pressing her hands to her
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed. "My head!
+How it throbs!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's nearly ten o'clock," Eustace cried. "I don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>
+hear anyone moving. The bank must be open in five
+minutes."</p>
+
+<p>He hurried across the landing to his assistant's
+room and unceremoniously opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>His assistant was in bed in a heavy sleep.</p>
+
+<p>"Harding! Fred! Wake up, man! Do you know
+what time it is?" he said, as he grabbed the sleeper's
+arm and shook him so vigorously that he pulled him
+half out of bed.</p>
+
+<p>Sleepily Harding's eyelids lifted to reveal glazed
+and lack-lustre eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"What's up?" he mumbled. "What's the matter
+now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Look at the time," Eustace cried excitedly.</p>
+
+<p>Harding pushed his hand under his pillow, raised
+himself on his arm and flung the pillow over.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's my watch?" he exclaimed. "Where
+has it gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you hear me say it is nearly ten o'clock?
+What on earth do you mean by sleeping to this hour
+when the bank ought to be open?"</p>
+
+<p>Harding blinked at his pyjama-clad manager.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't seem to have been up so very long," he
+grumbled. "But where's my jolly watch gone?
+I'll swear I put it under my pillow last night. Are
+you having a joke? Have you hidden it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not touched your watch. I tell you it's
+ten o'clock and the bank&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then someone has stolen it," Harding exclaimed
+as he sat up.</p>
+
+<p>The pupils of Eustace's eyes contracted to pinpoints.
+With an inarticulate cry he dashed from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
+room and rushed to the stairs. He heard his wife call
+from the servant's room but paid no heed to the
+words.</p>
+
+<p>Down the stairs he plunged, springing across the
+passage to the door leading from the residential
+portion of the building to the banking chamber.</p>
+
+<p>The door was locked.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "I was afraid it
+had been broken into."</p>
+
+<p>He ran upstairs again, meeting his wife at the top.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't wake that girl, Charlie. What shall I
+do?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Shy cold water over her," he answered abruptly
+as he went on to his room, where he seized his clothes
+and fumbled nervously for his keys.</p>
+
+<p>They were in the pocket where he always kept them.</p>
+
+<p>The discovery reassured him. Whatever else had
+happened, the bank was safe, for without the keys
+no one would be able to get at the cash. It was
+curious how everyone in the house had overslept
+themselves, but that was a detail to be unravelled
+subsequently. For the moment he must race into
+his clothes and be downstairs in time to have the
+bank's doors open to the public by ten.</p>
+
+<p>He was nearly dressed when Mrs. Eustace returned
+to the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Charlie, whatever has happened? Bessie can
+hardly stand. She's exactly as if she had been
+drinking."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't bother me about Bessie," he said
+petulantly. "It's ten o'clock, and the bank is not
+open."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He pushed past her and sped down the stairs.
+Despite his efforts to recover his confidence, his hand
+still trembled as he unlocked the door leading to the
+bank and entered the office.</p>
+
+<p>One quick glance round set his mind at ease. The
+place was in the same state of neatness and order
+as when he and Harding locked up the night before.</p>
+
+<p>He crossed to the street door, unlocked and unbolted
+it and pulled it open. As he did so, Harding came in
+through the private entrance.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Eustace, hang it, what have you done with
+that watch?" he asked. "It's not in my room.
+Where have you put it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not seen your watch. Make haste and
+get the safes open and the books out. Look at the
+time," Eustace replied sharply.</p>
+
+<p>The keys of the big safe, or strong-room, as they
+termed it, were kept in a smaller one, to which
+there were two keys, Eustace and Harding each
+holding one. The last vestige of fear passed from
+Eustace's mind as the keys of the strong-room were
+found lying in their usual place. He sighed with
+relief as Harding picked them up, unlocked the heavy
+door and, swinging the handles, threw the strong-room
+open.</p>
+
+<p>The tray on which the cash had been placed after
+balancing the previous evening was in a small upper
+compartment resting on the books. It was the usual
+practice for Harding to remove it and hand it over
+to Eustace, who checked the contents while the books
+and documents necessary for the day's work were
+being arranged.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But Eustace was too impatient to wait for the
+ordinary methods. As Harding pushed back the safe
+doors and bent down to remove the keys, he reached
+over him and caught hold of the tray.</p>
+
+<p>Instead of being heavy, as it should have been with
+all the gold, silver and copper coins, it came away
+in his hands light&mdash;and empty!</p>
+
+<p>His face went livid. He reeled back against the
+counter, letting the tray fall to the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"Gone!" he cried. "The money's gone!"</p>
+
+<p>Harding started up and stood staring, first at
+Eustace, then at the tray lying on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"Gone?" he echoed. "Gone? How can it have
+gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"It has&mdash;the tray is empty," Eustace gasped in
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>Harding looked from the tray to the open safe.
+His glance rested on the drawer where the bank-notes
+were kept. He took hold of the handle and pulled
+the drawer out.</p>
+
+<p>It was empty.</p>
+
+<p>In an inner recess, guarded by second-locked doors,
+the gold reserve was kept. The night before the
+bags of gold had filled it to the doors.</p>
+
+<p>Harding tried the handles. They held. The locks
+had not been forced.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you the keys of the reserve?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>With shaking hands Eustace produced them and
+stood watching, as the doors were unlocked and swung
+open.</p>
+
+<p>The recess was as empty as the cash tray.</p>
+
+<p>Dumbfounded, Harding turned to Eustace who,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>
+with his face ashen, stared blankly at the empty
+recess. Then a wild light leapt in his eyes and he
+seized the handle of a drawer in the counter where a
+loaded revolver was kept lest at any moment an
+attempt was made to rob the bank during office hours.</p>
+
+<p>Harding sprang to his side and gripped his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that," he cried hoarsely. "Hang it, man,
+pull yourself together. Think of your wife!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's ruin&mdash;ruin for me. Better finish it," Eustace
+muttered.</p>
+
+<p>Holding him back with one hand, Harding pulled
+the drawer open with the other to take the revolver
+away. But the drawer was also empty.</p>
+
+<p>"That has gone as well," he cried, letting go his
+hold of Eustace as he stooped to peer into the drawer.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace sank into a chair and buried his face in his
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, this is terrible&mdash;terrible," he moaned.
+"Terrible, terrible."</p>
+
+<p>The door leading to the house was flung open and
+Mrs. Eustace faced them.</p>
+
+<p>"Charlie!" she exclaimed. "My rings and
+jewellery have vanished. The cases are all empty.
+I am certain&mdash;why, what is the matter?" she broke
+off to ask as she caught sight of her husband.</p>
+
+<p>She glanced from him to Harding.</p>
+
+<p>"What has happened?" she said wonderingly,
+as she advanced further into the office.</p>
+
+<p>Opposite the open doors of the strong-room she
+saw the empty cash tray lying on the floor, the note
+drawer pulled out, the vacant space of the reserve
+recess.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Charlie!"</p>
+
+<p>Her voice went to a shriek as the truth flashed upon
+her.</p>
+
+<p>She rushed past Harding and flung herself on her
+knees beside her husband, her arms around him, her
+face upturned to his.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Charlie, Charlie! Whatever are we to do?"
+she cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I go over to the police-station? We had
+better report it at once," Harding said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace raised his wife from her kneeling position.</p>
+
+<p>"You must not come in here now, Jess," he said.
+"Go and learn, as nearly as you can, what has been
+taken from the house. Harding and I must send
+word to the head office."</p>
+
+<p>He led her from the room and closed the door after
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have to use the code, I suppose,"
+Harding said, as he returned. "If you will read out
+the words, I will write them."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace sank into his chair again and sat staring
+blankly in front of him.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come, old chap," Harding exclaimed, as
+he laid his hand on his manager's shoulder. "Don't
+give way. There's a mystery in all this. We shall
+want all our wits to clear it up as it is; don't make
+it worse."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace raised his head.</p>
+
+<p>"But who can have done it, Harding? Who
+can have done it? Every place locked up and yet
+the money has gone! No one knew all that gold
+was here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You and I knew it."</p>
+
+<p>"My God! You don't mean&mdash;&mdash;" Eustace cried
+as he sprang out of his chair. "You don't&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Steady, old man, steady. Keep your head.
+There's nothing to be gained by getting excited.
+You and I knew it was here and someone at the head
+office knew, as well as the fellows at Wyalla. Some
+word may have leaked out while it was on the road.
+There's no saying off-hand; what we've got to do
+is to keep cool and go slow if we're to clear ourselves.
+I'm as much concerned in this matter as you are."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Harding. I'm manager, and all the responsibility
+is on my shoulders. Whatever comes to
+light, I'm ruined. The bank will fire me out directly
+they hear of it&mdash;and this was my first branch
+too."</p>
+
+<p>"I would not look at it like that," Harding replied.
+"No game is lost till it's won. I'll send Brennan
+over as I pass the station. He may be able to throw
+some light on it. Come. Let us draft the report
+for the head office."</p>
+
+<p>But Eustace was too unnerved to render any
+assistance, and it was Harding who, single-handed,
+drafted and coded a brief message reporting what
+had been discovered. Not until this message was
+handed to him did Eustace move.</p>
+
+<p>"That's my death warrant," he said gloomily
+as he signed it.</p>
+
+<p>Harding took the message and left the office. The
+township boasted only one street, the bank being at
+one end, the post office at the other. Midway<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
+between the two was the police-station, where the
+one constable responsible for the maintenance of
+law and order within the district resided.</p>
+
+<p>"Get over to the bank, will you, Brennan?"
+Harding said as he entered the station. "You'll
+have your hands full this time. There's been a
+robbery during the night, and all the cash cleared
+out."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that, Mr. Harding? The bank robbed?
+You don't mean it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Go and ask Eustace; he'll give you all the
+details. It's floored him. Hurry over, there's a good
+chap. I'm on my way to the post office to wire to
+the head office; I can't stay now."</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later the news was known from one
+end of the township to the other, and was travelling
+in every direction through the bush to the outlying
+stations and selections.</p>
+
+<p>The farther it travelled the more astounding it
+became, and yet the form in which Brennan telegraphed
+it to his Inspector showed it to be sufficiently
+startling and mysterious.</p>
+
+<p>When the reports had been wired away, Eustace
+recalled an incident he had forgotten in the excitement
+of the initial discovery.</p>
+
+<p>During the evening, soon after sunset, a stranger
+called at the bank. He came to the private entrance
+where he was seen by Eustace, who described him
+as a well-built man of medium height, with sandy
+hair and beard and, by appearance, an ordinary
+bushman. He said he had come in from a distant
+station with a cheque he wanted to cash, but as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
+bank was closed for the day, Eustace told him he
+would have to come again in the morning. He had
+gone, mounting his horse and riding away in the
+direction of the hotel where stockmen usually
+congregated.</p>
+
+<p>Brennan went to the hotel in search of him, but
+no one knew anything about him there, nor had anyone
+else seen him either in or out of the township.</p>
+
+<p>"But he must have been seen," Eustace exclaimed
+impatiently, when Brennan returned to the bank
+with the news. "He must have been seen. He could
+not have vanished."</p>
+
+<p>"Did anyone else see him besides you when he
+called?" Brennan asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I was passing the front door at the moment
+he came. No one else saw him, so far as I know.
+But he must have been seen in the township. He
+must have gone to the hotel."</p>
+
+<p>They were standing in the bank office, Brennan on
+one side of the counter, Harding and Eustace on the
+other.</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't see him?" Brennan asked, looking at
+Harding.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I didn't see him," Harding answered.</p>
+
+<p>"But you heard me speak to someone&mdash;I came
+into the dining-room and told you it was a man who
+wanted a cheque cashed," Eustace exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," Harding said quietly, "I was going
+to say so when you interrupted me."</p>
+
+<p>There was a hum of voices outside and half a dozen
+men came into the office&mdash;Allnut, the largest storekeeper
+in the town; Soden, the hotelkeeper; Gale,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
+the local auctioneer; Johnson, the postmaster, and
+two men who were strangers.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Soden," Eustace cried, as soon as he caught
+sight of the hotelkeeper. "Do you mean to say
+that the man I told Brennan about never came to
+your house last night?"</p>
+
+<p>Soden, a slow-witted, heavy-built man, shook
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a sign of him, Mr. Eustace," he answered.
+"But these two men came in just now. They've
+got something to say," he added, turning to
+Brennan.</p>
+
+<p>One of the two men stepped forward.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn't think much of it in a general way," he
+said, "leastways not until we heard at the pub
+about the robbery. You see, me and my mate camped
+last night about five miles out on the road. As near
+as we can say, it was somewhere about midnight
+when Bill&mdash;my mate," he added as he waved his
+hand towards his companion, "looked out of the
+tent. 'Hullo, Jim,' he says, 'what's this? Here,
+come and look, quick.' You see, from where our
+camp was we could get a view half a mile down the
+road. Well, when I looked out I saw, coming along
+the road at racing speed, a pair-horse buggy with
+two men in it. The chap who was driving had the
+horses at full gallop as they passed the camp, but
+it wasn't him so much that I noticed as the horses.
+You see, they were both white&mdash;white as milk.
+The moon was up and they showed real pretty."</p>
+
+<p>"White?" Brennan exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"White as milk," the man replied. "That's what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
+made Bill call out. We didn't know there was a white
+horse in the whole of Waroona, let alone two of them."</p>
+
+<p>"Was that on the main road?" Brennan asked.</p>
+
+<p>"On the main road&mdash;just about five miles out."</p>
+
+<p>"I know every horse in the district, and there's
+not a white one among them," Gale said.</p>
+
+<p>"These were white&mdash;white as milk," the man
+repeated. "It was what made us look."</p>
+
+<p>"If the horses were galloping the tracks would
+still show in the road," Gale said to Brennan. "Shall
+I ride out and have a look?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you've got a buggy, me and my mate will
+come too and show them to you," Jim exclaimed
+resentfully.</p>
+
+<p>"That would be better," Brennan said.</p>
+
+<p>"Come along then," Gale exclaimed, and left the
+bank with the two men.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as they were gone Brennan turned to
+Johnson.</p>
+
+<p>"Two white horses can't go far in this district
+without being noticed. Will you wire round to the
+different telegraph offices and ask if anything of the
+kind has been seen or heard of?"</p>
+
+<p>"They cannot have gone more than a hundred
+miles since midnight, can they?" Johnson asked.</p>
+
+<p>"A hundred? No, not fifty," Allnut exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'll say a hundred. I'll wire to every
+telegraph office within a hundred miles. I'll send or
+bring you word within half an hour."</p>
+
+<p>"Supposing there is any truth in the yarn," Soden
+remarked slowly, "how is it going to help? I
+brought the men along, not because I believed their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
+yarn, but because it seemed to me they might know
+more about the robbery than they would care to have
+known."</p>
+
+<p>"There's no harm in sending off those telegrams,
+anyway. I'll get away and put them through,"
+Johnson said as he went to the door.</p>
+
+<p>He stood for a moment looking out along the road.</p>
+
+<p>"I fancy that's Mrs. Burke coming," he called
+back over his shoulder to Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>Soden, Allnut, and Brennan, at the mention of the
+name, moved towards the door, and Harding came
+round the counter to join them.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better see her, Harding," Eustace said
+under his breath. "Tell her everything will be all
+right so far as she is concerned. We cannot say more
+until we hear from head office."</p>
+
+<p>The other three men were already out on the footpath
+in front of the bank entrance. Eustace slipped
+into the little ante-room that served as the manager's
+private office, as the sound of a vehicle pulling up
+outside the bank reached him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>DISAPPEARED</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Oh, never mind," Mrs. Burke exclaimed as Brennan
+went to the horse's head and took hold of the reins.
+"Sure I'm only stopping for a moment&mdash;I won't get
+out. It's just to see Mr. Eustace I've come."</p>
+
+<p>The men on the footpath looked at one another
+and then at her.</p>
+
+<p>In the doorway Harding stood hesitating whether
+to go out or to wait until Mrs. Burke alighted from
+the buggy.</p>
+
+<p>"You've heard the news, haven't you?" Allnut
+asked as he stepped to her side. "Ill news travels
+apace, they say. Hasn't word got out as far as the
+Downs?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Burke turned the full battery of her dark-fringed
+eyes on the storekeeper.</p>
+
+<p>"News? What news?" she exclaimed. "I've
+only just come in. Has anything happened?"</p>
+
+<p>She glanced at Harding where he stood in the
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"To Mr. Eustace? Nothing has happened to Mr.
+Eustace, has there?" she added, as she leaned
+towards Allnut.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know," he replied in an uncertain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>
+voice. "It affects him more or less, I suppose,
+seeing he is the manager. The bank has been robbed,
+you know."</p>
+
+<p>It was well Brennan was at the horse's head, for
+the shriek with which Mrs. Burke greeted the information
+was heard at the post office the other end
+of the town and made the horse plunge and rear.
+Although Brennan managed to hold it from bolting,
+it forced the buggy back on the footpath and almost
+turned it over. But Mrs. Burke was out long before
+then, for with a bound she sprang from the vehicle,
+sending Allnut staggering as she blundered against
+him in her rush for the bank.</p>
+
+<p>Harding, having heard Allnut's words, stepped
+forward to meet her.</p>
+
+<p>"You need not be alarmed, Mrs. Burke," he said,
+as she dashed up. "So far as you are concerned&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Where's that villain? Where's that wretch?
+He's stolen my deeds! I know it, I know it! I'm
+ruined! Brennan, come and arrest him."</p>
+
+<p>Her words, shouted at the top of her voice, rang
+through the place and out on the roadway, where
+Brennan was still struggling with her rearing horse,
+and Soden and Allnut stood by as sympathetic
+onlookers.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will come in, the manager will explain the
+matter to you," Harding said.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk to me about explaining," she shouted
+in answer. "Where are my deeds? Where are the
+deeds of my Irish property? If you've stolen
+them&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Pray speak quietly, Mrs. Burke," Harding said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>
+"There are others who can hear you, and the
+bank&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Others? Others hear me? I'll let them hear
+me. I want them to hear me. I've nothing to hide,
+and I'll not shelter any scoundrel who will rob and
+cheat a lonely widow. Maybe others will not stand
+by and see an unfortunate poor weak woman robbed
+and swindled&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"If you will come inside, Mrs. Burke&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll not come inside. I want my deeds back.
+I'll have nothing more to do with your wretched bank.
+Sure I'm distracted. Have you those deeds?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Eustace," Harding began, when she flung
+round and leaped away from the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Brennan!" she cried. "Brennan! Come here,
+Brennan. They've robbed me of my deeds, the deeds
+of my Irish property. They insisted I should leave
+them here, and now they tell me they're stolen. Who's
+stolen them if it isn't that scoundrel in there? Come
+and arrest him. Come and help me recover my
+just rights."</p>
+
+<p>She shouted out the words despite the fact that
+Brennan was still careering round in the roadway
+trying to pacify her plunging horse.</p>
+
+<p>Harding glanced over his shoulder towards
+Eustace's room as she left the doorway. He saw
+Eustace slip from the room and make for the door
+leading into the private portion of the house. At the
+door he turned.</p>
+
+<p>"Get her to come in here," he said impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>As he was speaking Mrs. Burke flounced round
+again and caught sight of him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there you are," she cried, as she stepped
+inside. "Now, what have you to say?"</p>
+
+<p>Eustace closed the door after him as she was
+speaking.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Burke rushed out again into the road.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Allnut! Mr. Soden! I can trust you. Will
+you stay here and see that villain does not slip
+out and escape? He's gone into the house. I'll go
+to the front door."</p>
+
+<p>She ran towards the private entrance, but stopped
+opposite Brennan, who had at last succeeded in
+getting the horse under control.</p>
+
+<p>"They've robbed me, Brennan," she cried. "I
+left all the deeds of my Irish property with them.
+They've stolen them and say the place has been
+broken into as a blind. I don't believe it. It's
+Eustace. I never believed in him. Sure, if it hadn't
+been for Mr. Gale I'd never have listened to him.
+But now what am I to do? Where's Mr. Gale?
+Why isn't he here to help me? Why don't you tell
+him to come at once?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Gale has gone along the road with two men
+we want to know something about, Mrs. Burke.
+He'll return shortly. You had better see Mr. Eustace.
+It's only money which has been taken, I believe.
+Mr. Eustace will be able to tell you all about it."</p>
+
+<p>"But he is trying to escape," she said in a whisper.
+"I saw him go out of the other door. He'll get away.
+Come and arrest him."</p>
+
+<p>"Never fear," Brennan answered, as he smiled.
+"I'll see he doesn't get away. I'll watch here till
+you come out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Will you please come this way, Mrs. Burke?
+Mr. Eustace is waiting to see you," Harding called
+out from the bank entrance.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go," she said to Brennan. "But mind!
+I rely on you&mdash;thank God your father and mother
+were Irish even if you were born out here."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Eustace asks if you will mind going into the
+dining-room," Harding said.</p>
+
+<p>She shot a resentful glance at him as she swept by
+and passed through into the house. Eustace met
+her and led her into the dining-room, closing
+the door after him. As Harding shut the door
+leading from the bank, Johnson, the postmaster,
+came in.</p>
+
+<p>"Here is a message just come through&mdash;I brought
+it down at once as I thought you'd be anxious," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"Half a minute," Harding said, as he took the
+telegram. "Eustace is seeing Mrs. Burke in the
+house. I'll take it to him in case there is a reply."</p>
+
+<p>He went through to the dining-room, knocked at
+the door and opened it. Mrs. Burke, her eyes flashing
+and her cheeks flushed, was standing facing Eustace,
+who sat by the table with his head resting on his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's a telegram&mdash;Johnson is waiting to see if
+there is any reply," Harding said, as he held out the
+message.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace took the telegram mechanically, opened
+and read it and handed it, open, to Harding.</p>
+
+<p>"Read it," he said. "There's no answer. I'll join
+you presently."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Harding left the room, glancing at the message as
+he crossed the passage. It required no answer, as
+Eustace had said. It was very brief.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Inspector Wallace will take charge."</p></div>
+
+<p>Harding whistled. Wallace was the senior inspector
+of the service, and his special faculty was the unravelling
+of tangled accounts and the detection of
+defaulting managers and cashiers. Leaving the
+ordinary inspection of branches to his juniors, Wallace
+only journeyed from the head office to take charge
+when grave suspicions were entertained as to the
+integrity of a branch staff. The telegram was tantamount
+to an intimation that the authorities of the
+bank did not regard the robbery as the work of an
+outsider.</p>
+
+<p>As he re-entered the office, Brennan was standing
+at the entrance with Johnson.</p>
+
+<p>"No answer," Harding said quietly, and Johnson
+nodded and went off. Brennan turned and crossed
+to the counter.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mr. Eustace about?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"He is talking to Mrs. Burke in the dining-room.
+She's rather excited, and he took her in there because
+she would shout so. He'll be back in a few minutes,
+unless you want to tell him something particularly
+at once," Harding answered.</p>
+
+<p>Brennan glanced at a telegram he held in his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"It will do when he comes out," he answered
+slowly. "Have you had any word?" he added, as
+he leant over the counter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The head office wires that Inspector Wallace&mdash;our
+bank inspector, that is, not one of your police
+inspectors&mdash;is coming up."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all?"</p>
+
+<p>Harding gave a short laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"All? It's quite enough, Brennan. Between
+you and me it means that Eustace and I are suspected&mdash;one
+of us or both."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's right," Brennan said quietly. "One
+or both."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke he held out a message for Harding to
+read.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Keep manager under close surveillance till I
+arrive.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Durham.</span>"</p></div>
+
+<p>"You know who Durham is?" Brennan asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Never heard of him," Harding answered.</p>
+
+<p>"He's the finest man who ever put on a uniform,"
+Brennan exclaimed. "He is the sub-inspector in
+charge of this district&mdash;he's only been appointed a
+couple of months. I reckon it's only a temporary
+thing for him, just until there's room to make him an
+inspector. It's a good thing for your bank he is
+coming up. If anyone on earth can unravel a mystery,
+my sub-inspector is the man. He won't be long before
+he has the matter cleared up."</p>
+
+<p>"If he can get to the bottom of this business, I'll
+agree with you," Harding replied. "But I don't
+think very much of his first idea; I don't think he is
+right if he suspects Eustace. When do you expect him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should say he will be here some time during
+the day. He wired from Wyalla, and I expect he'll
+ride across country&mdash;it will be quicker than waiting
+for a train at the junction. Ah, there's Mr. Gale back,"
+he exclaimed, as a buggy drove past the bank. "If
+you'll let me know when Mr. Eustace is free, I'll
+just step out and hear what he has discovered about
+the yarn the men told us."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. I'll call you as soon as Eustace
+comes in," Harding said, and Brennan left the
+office.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after he had gone Harding heard the dining-room
+door open and Mrs. Burke's voice ring through
+the house.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe a word of it. It's false; it's
+untrue. It's all a blind. I'll see whether there is not
+justice in the land for an unfortunate widow robbed
+of her all."</p>
+
+<p>Then the door was slammed and the front door
+opened and slammed also.</p>
+
+<p>Harding sat waiting for Eustace to come back to
+the office. He heard Mrs. Burke's voice sounding
+shrill outside, but not clear enough for him to distinguish
+what she was saying. Then the buggy started
+and drove rapidly away.</p>
+
+<p>A gentle tap came at the door leading to
+the house, and Mrs. Eustace opened it and looked
+in.</p>
+
+<p>"Has that dreadful woman gone?" she asked in an
+agitated voice. "Is Charlie here?"</p>
+
+<p>Harding rose and went over to her.</p>
+
+<p>"No. He has not come back yet. He is in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
+the dining-room. Shall I tell him you want
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, perhaps it will be better to leave him alone
+till he comes out. Did you hear what she said? She
+has been making such a scene in there. Poor Charlie,
+as if he had not enough to worry him as it is, without
+her saying such terrible things."</p>
+
+<p>Brennan, with Gale and Johnson, appeared at
+the entrance, and Mrs. Eustace went back into the
+house, closing the door after her.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Burke has gone," Brennan said, as he came
+over to the counter. "Is Mr. Eustace in the office?"</p>
+
+<p>"He has not come out of the dining-room yet.
+Shall I tell him?" Harding replied.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go through," Brennan said.</p>
+
+<p>Harding opened the door and stood holding it,
+with Gale and Johnson behind him, as Brennan went
+to the dining-room door and knocked.</p>
+
+<p>Receiving no answer, he opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no one in there," he called out.</p>
+
+<p>With one accord the three moved forward. Brennan
+was half-way across the room when they reached
+the door. He went to the window and looked at the
+fastening.</p>
+
+<p>"He did not get out this way," he cried. "He
+must be in the house somewhere."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace appeared on the stairs, and came
+down.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is your husband, Mrs. Eustace?" Brennan
+exclaimed directly he saw her.</p>
+
+<p>"He was in there&mdash;isn't he in there now?" she
+said, as she passed into the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He is not here, Mrs. Eustace, though Mrs. Burke
+left him here when she came out a few minutes ago.
+Where is he?"</p>
+
+<p>With widely open eyes Mrs. Eustace stared from
+one to the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what is it?" she cried. "What is it? Tell
+me&mdash;is it&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>For a moment she stood with her eyes fixed on
+Brennan.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my God!" she cried as she flung up her arms
+and fell headlong to the floor.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>DURHAMS'S SURMISE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Eustace had disappeared as completely and mysteriously
+as the gold which had been in his keeping.</p>
+
+<p>Every corner of the building from the roof to the
+basement was examined. Even the cupboards were
+inspected and the made-up beds pulled to pieces,
+lest he should have succeeded in secreting himself
+amongst the jam-pots or inside the covering of a
+pillow; but no trace of him could be found.</p>
+
+<p>His hats hung on their accustomed pegs, so that
+if he had gone from the house he must have gone bareheaded.
+But the question which none could answer
+was how he had managed to go from the house at all.</p>
+
+<p>At the time Mrs. Burke left the dining-room,
+Brennan was standing talking to Gale and Johnson
+in front of the private entrance. In the office Harding
+was waiting for his manager to come from the house.
+Thus two out of the three ordinary means of exit
+could not have been used without Eustace being
+seen. The third was the back door opening from
+the scullery, which, in turn, opened from the kitchen.
+Bessie was in the kitchen when the slamming of the
+dining-room door announced the departure of Mrs.
+Burke.</p>
+
+<p>Both she and her mistress were insistent that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
+Eustace did not pass through the kitchen. Each
+told the same story when interrogated. As soon as
+the signal of Mrs. Burke's departure was heard,
+Mrs. Eustace went to the door leading from the
+kitchen to the passage and stood waiting for her
+husband to appear. When he did not do so, she went
+to the door of the office, knocked, and asked Harding
+if Eustace were there. She maintained that the door
+of the dining-room had not been opened after Mrs.
+Burke flounced out. Harding, who was listening
+in the office, also maintained it had not been
+opened.</p>
+
+<p>The mystery of Eustace's disappearance was still
+agitating everyone when Sub-Inspector Durham rode
+up to the bank. Listening, without comment, to all
+Brennan had to report, he went through the premises
+with Harding and Brennan, saying nothing till he
+came to the back door.</p>
+
+<p>Situated as it was, with only the bush behind and
+beyond it, the bank was thus free from being overlooked.
+A block of ground at the back was surrounded
+by a three-rail fence, but the cultivation was
+limited, a score of fowls occupying the far end and
+the remainder of the area consisting of a grass patch
+and a few indigenous shrubs left when the ground
+was fenced in from the bush.</p>
+
+<p>Standing there, he waved his arm comprehensively
+towards the unoccupied land at the side and back
+of the building.</p>
+
+<p>"Once outside, who was to see him clamber over
+that fence and make for the shelter of the bush?"
+he asked. "While you were loitering at the front<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
+door, Brennan, your man was walking out at the
+back."</p>
+
+<p>Brennan gnawed his moustache in chagrin.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;how did he get out of the dining-room?"
+Harding exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>Durham turned slowly and looked steadily into
+Harding's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"He walked out, Mr. Harding, walked out through
+the door."</p>
+
+<p>"The door was shut."</p>
+
+<p>"When you saw it. It was probably closed as
+noiselessly as it was opened&mdash;his wife saw to that.
+Then, as soon as he had slipped out this way, she
+came to your office and threw dust in your eyes by
+asking where her husband was. Just the sort of
+thing a woman would do. What did he do with his
+keys&mdash;the bank keys, I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"He had them with him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, Mr. Harding. They would be no further
+use to him. He must have left them behind him.
+We shall find them somewhere. Let me have a look
+at the safes which were robbed."</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I send off a description of the man to the
+police in the neighbourhood, sir?" Brennan asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you not do so at once?" Durham asked,
+swinging round sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"I was preparing it when you arrived, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"We will look at the safes," Durham said.</p>
+
+<p>Harding had pushed-to the doors of the big safe
+As he pulled them open Durham pointed.</p>
+
+<p>"What keys are those?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>In the lock of the reserve recess the keys Eustace<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
+gave Harding in the morning were still hanging.
+Harding took them out.</p>
+
+<p>"They are the manager's keys," he said. "In the
+excitement of the discovery that all the gold had gone,
+I must have forgotten to return them. I had no idea
+they were here when you asked me what Eustace
+had done with the keys. I entirely forgot them."</p>
+
+<p>"But he did not, Mr. Harding. Do you know where
+he kept his private papers?"</p>
+
+<p>"That was his private office," Harding replied,
+pointing to the little ante-room.</p>
+
+<p>"When do you expect the relieving officer to
+arrive?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can hardly say. He may come by train to the
+junction, in which case he should be here about noon
+to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will be in charge until he arrives?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have telegraphed to the head office reporting
+that Eustace has disappeared and asking for instructions.
+Until they come, of course, I am in charge."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will come with me while I examine his
+desk, though I do not suppose it contains anything
+but official papers&mdash;now. In the meantime, Brennan,
+send away your description to all the neighbouring
+police-stations and also to head-quarters for general
+distribution. When you have done that you can come
+back here. I shall be waiting for you."</p>
+
+<p>He followed Harding into the little room.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better go through the papers, Mr.
+Harding. They will probably all relate to the bank's
+business. I only want to see those which do not."</p>
+
+<p>"It was in this drawer he kept his own papers,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
+Harding said, as he touched the knob of one of the
+side drawers.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it locked?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," Harding replied, as he pulled it out. "But
+it is empty," he added.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so," Durham replied in an unconcerned
+voice. "As I expected."</p>
+
+<p>Harding stared at him in perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;" he stammered. "I don't understand
+it. I cannot&mdash;I cannot believe it of him."</p>
+
+<p>Durham stood silent.</p>
+
+<p>"Only a madman would have done such a thing,
+and Eustace is no more mad than I am," Harding
+added.</p>
+
+<p>Still Durham said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"But if he had done such a thing, why did he
+remain here? Why not get away at the same time
+as he got the gold away? Surely&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Would you mind looking through the remainder
+of the drawers?" Durham interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>Harding opened them one after the other, examined
+the papers they contained, and replaced them
+without making any further remark. The search was
+unavailing so far as private papers were concerned&mdash;all
+were connected with the bank. As Harding
+examined them, Durham stood beside the table
+without a word or a glance at the papers. When the
+last drawer had been opened, gone through, and
+closed, Harding turned to him.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing here except what concerns the
+bank," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"You are sure he kept all his own papers here?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Quite sure. The first drawer I opened was full of
+them yesterday. He had it out after the bank closed
+last night when I came in to give him the cash
+balance."</p>
+
+<p>"I will see Mrs. Eustace," Durham said shortly.
+"In the interests of the bank I should like you to be
+present. Will you ask her to come in here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps she would rather see you in the house."</p>
+
+<p>"As she pleases&mdash;if you will ask her."</p>
+
+<p>Harding found her sitting disconsolately in the
+dining-room and gave her Durham's message.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, I'll see him&mdash;here&mdash;if you stay."</p>
+
+<p>She spoke without moving her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I will be here," he said as he left the room to call
+Durham.</p>
+
+<p>In the office he found a telegram had just arrived.
+It was an answer to his wire to the head office.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Close office. Do all to assist the police. Wallace
+should arrive noon to-morrow."</p></div>
+
+<p>He handed the message to Durham, who just
+glanced at it.</p>
+
+<p>"Is she coming in here or not?" Durham
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"She is in the dining-room, and will see you there,"
+Harding answered.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace was standing staring out of the
+window when they entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you nothing. I know nothing more
+than I have already said," she exclaimed as she
+turned to meet them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If you will kindly answer my questions I will be
+obliged," Durham replied. "Can you tell me where
+your husband kept his private papers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, in his office&mdash;that is, as a rule."</p>
+
+<p>"And when he did not keep them there, where
+were they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he always kept them there, but sometimes
+he had some in his pocket. Last night&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes? Last night&mdash;&mdash;?" Durham said as she
+stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's nothing. Merely that he had some papers
+in his pocket and discovered they were there when he
+was upstairs."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know what he did with them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do. He left them on the dressing-table.
+They are there now."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you show them to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Harding, will you take him upstairs? The
+papers are by the looking-glass."</p>
+
+<p>Durham followed Harding upstairs without a
+word. On the dressing-table a small packet of folded
+documents was pushed half under the mirror. Durham
+picked them up and glanced at them.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," he said. "Now we will go down
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"These are the papers you referred to?" he asked,
+as soon as they were in the dining-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Mrs. Eustace answered.</p>
+
+<p>Durham laid them on the table in front of him.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you tell me anything about your husband's
+private affairs?" he asked, looking steadily at
+her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don't quite understand what you mean," she
+replied slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"In regard to his mining speculations."</p>
+
+<p>Harding saw the momentary start, quickly recovered,
+that she gave at the question.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know he speculated?"</p>
+
+<p>She sat silent with averted face.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know he speculated both in shares and
+horse-racing?"</p>
+
+<p>Still there was no reply, and Durham added,
+"Speculated and lost&mdash;heavily?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not heavily," she exclaimed, flashing round upon
+him. "He did not lose heavily. He may have&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She checked her words suddenly, closing her lips
+and turning her face away.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you please finish your sentence, Mrs.
+Eustace?"</p>
+
+<p>"He may have lost&mdash;sometimes; but he won as
+well. He had those shares&mdash;they may yet bring him
+in a fortune," she said, pointing to the papers on the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know if there was ever any official reference
+to his speculations?"</p>
+
+<p>Harding could barely hear the words as, with bowed
+head, Mrs. Eustace replied.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not quite catch your answer," Durham
+said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"I said yes, there was&mdash;once."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he tell you what was said?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," she said after a few moments'
+silence. "You had better ask the bank. I don't
+know anything about it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you know why your husband was appointed
+to this branch?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know anything about it," she replied
+in a low tone.</p>
+
+<p>"It may save time if I tell you at once, Mrs.
+Eustace, that the general manager of the bank has
+put me in possession of all information regarding
+your husband&mdash;you will not improve the situation
+by denying what I know you thoroughly understand."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace looked up and met a glance which gave
+her the uncomfortable sensation of being looked
+through and through. She lowered her eyes more
+quickly than she had raised them, paled and then
+flushed blood-red.</p>
+
+<p>"Your husband did not escape through the
+kitchen," Durham said in his even tone of
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I have already said so," Mrs. Eustace replied,
+scarcely above a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"He left this room by the window."</p>
+
+<p>The blood left her cheeks as she started. Harding
+saw her hands clasp tightly.</p>
+
+<p>"And you secured the window on the inside after
+he had gone."</p>
+
+<p>"No!"</p>
+
+<p>The monosyllable escaped her lips like the yap of a
+dog at bay.</p>
+
+<p>"You secured the window on the inside after he
+had gone," Durham repeated in cold, unruffled
+tones.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace sprang to her feet and faced him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's a lie," she cried. "The room was empty
+when I came to it."</p>
+
+<p>"The room was empty, quite so. And the window
+was open. You closed and secured it."</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you I did not."</p>
+
+<p>"You have already said that you only stood at the
+kitchen door until you went to the office to ask
+whether your husband was there. Now you say the
+room was empty when you came to it. Which statement
+do you expect me to believe?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care what you believe," she cried. "You
+have no right to ask me these questions. I will not
+answer you. Mr. Harding, I appeal to you. If you
+have no regard for the honour of an absent friend,
+at least you might protect the wife of your friend
+from insult."</p>
+
+<p>Durham's eyes never wavered as he watched
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"No insult is offered or intended, Mrs. Eustace,"
+he said quietly. "Mr. Harding, in the interests of
+the bank, as well as in the interests of your husband,
+is desirous, as we all are, of knowing the truth. I
+will ask you one more question: Where were you
+when Mrs. Burke left the dining-room and crossed
+the passage to the front door?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace, with close-set lips, stood defiantly
+silent.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you answer that question?" Durham
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I will not. I will tolerate this no longer."</p>
+
+<p>With a quick, angry gesture she turned to the
+door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Durham was on his feet and in front of her before
+she could take two steps.</p>
+
+<p>"Until I have seen your servant, Mrs. Eustace,
+you will remain here," he said. "Will you kindly
+come with me, Mr. Harding?"</p>
+
+<p>He held the door open while Harding passed out,
+following him without another word.</p>
+
+<p>But there was little to be ascertained from Bessie
+more than she had already told. She heard the door
+slam and her mistress go to the kitchen door, but
+whether she went on to the dining-room or not, Bessie
+"didn't notice."</p>
+
+<p>"Could you see out of the window at the time?"
+Durham asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, I was in the scullery washing up," the
+girl replied.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace, much to Harding's surprise, was still
+in the dining-room on their return. The papers
+Durham had placed on the table were untouched.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry to have had to detain you, Mrs.
+Eustace. For the present I have nothing further to
+ask you. These papers you had better take&mdash;I have
+no doubt they were left for you."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean&mdash;left for me?" she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"A woman of your quick intelligence, Mrs. Eustace,
+scarcely needs to be told," he answered, adding, as he
+turned to Harding, "I would like a few moments with
+you in the office."</p>
+
+<p>In the little ante-room that Eustace had used as his
+private office, Durham turned the searchlight of his
+questions upon Harding.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Have you known Mr. Eustace for very
+long?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have only known him personally since I came
+to this branch a few weeks ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you apply to be sent here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I knew nothing about it until I received
+instructions to come."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you know Mrs. Eustace before you came
+here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not as Mrs. Eustace."</p>
+
+<p>"You knew her before she was married?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Am I right in saying that you knew her very
+well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I did know her very well."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't think I am attempting to pry into your
+private affairs, Mr. Harding. In a case of this kind,
+the clues that lead to the unravelling of the mystery
+often lie on the surface in some trifling circumstance
+that seemingly has nothing whatever to do with the
+main question. You have already realised, I take
+it, that we are concerned with something quite distinct
+from the ordinary class of crime. Perhaps you have
+not had sufficient experience with the criminal class
+to recognise what was apparent to me from the
+beginning, that in this matter we are following the
+work of one who is a master of his craft."</p>
+
+<p>"So far as that goes, I am absolutely dazed,"
+Harding exclaimed. "The more I hear, the more
+hopelessly confused I grow."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I am not surprised. You are following the work
+of someone who is, I am quite satisfied, no ordinary
+criminal, but one of the most astute, clever and
+unscrupulous individuals who ever adopted dishonesty
+as a profession. If I ask you questions which
+appear to you to be irrelevant and possibly impertinent,
+will you give me credit for being
+actuated only by my sense of duty, and answer
+those questions as fully and as accurately as you
+can?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," Harding replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. Now, will you tell me this&mdash;Were
+you ever engaged to Mrs. Eustace before she married
+her present husband?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Did she break it off, or did you?"</p>
+
+<p>"She&mdash;she married."</p>
+
+<p>"She married Eustace, while she was practically
+engaged to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"While she was actually engaged to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Then he must have known of your existence?"</p>
+
+<p>"I assume so, but&mdash;well, nothing was ever said
+about it between us. I will tell you exactly what
+happened. The letters I had written to her, the
+presents I had given her, and her engagement ring,
+were returned to me in a packet through the post
+with a piece of wedding-cake. Until I came here
+and met her, I did not know to whom she was married.
+Whether Eustace knew we had once been engaged I
+do not know. I never referred to it."</p>
+
+<p>"You never knew that, in applying for an assistant,
+he named you personally to the general manager<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
+of the bank and gave as a reason a long-standing
+friendship?"</p>
+
+<p>The look of astonishment which showed on Harding's
+face was sufficient answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Yet it is what happened&mdash;I have the information
+from your general manager."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>MRS. BURKE'S PRESENTIMENT</h3>
+
+
+<p>Waroona Downs was fifteen miles from Waroona
+township by the road, and ten as the crow flies, the
+intrusion of a rocky and precipitous range making it
+impossible to take the shorter and more direct route.
+One had perforce to use the road, and the road turned
+and twisted where the level plains were broken
+by the range, passing, at one stage, through a narrow
+gorge hemmed in by steep, rock-strewn heights,
+on which a growth of stunted gums flourished
+sufficiently to hide the jagged boulders from the road
+below.</p>
+
+<p>Half-way through the gorge a stream, having its
+source in a series of springs hidden among the tumbled
+rocks, swept across the track in a shallow ford. The
+road dipped to it on both sides, the constant flow
+of water having stripped away the soil and left a
+barrier of naked rock which dammed back the stream
+to form a wide pool sheltered among the hills and
+fringed by a more luxurious growth of vegetation
+than clothed the heights above.</p>
+
+<p>The last gleam of the setting sun shed a ruddy
+tinge on the topmost branches of the trees as Durham
+reached where the road dipped to the stream. The
+subdued light in the pass made the distances elusive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>
+and turned the shadows into subtle mysteries of
+purpling greys. The air was full of the scent from
+the thickly growing vegetation, but, save for the
+rippling swish of the water trickling across the track,
+the silence was unbroken.</p>
+
+<p>Durham reined in his horse and sat loosely in his
+saddle as his glance swept over the tangled masses of
+undergrowth, the tumbled boulders peeping here
+and there from amid the shadows, the precipitous
+sides of the pass, and the broken ruggedness of the
+ground beyond. But it was not an appreciation
+of the picturesque, nor a recognition of the poetry in
+landscape which held him. He saw in the place only
+such a spot as the men concerned in the robbery of
+the bank would select for hiding their booty. Within
+that maze of rock and tree and mountain, how many
+nooks there must be to serve the purpose.</p>
+
+<p>Had he been occupied only with the matter of the
+robbery, he would have started there and then to
+satisfy himself whether his surmise was correct,
+and whether the missing thousands were not lying
+perhaps a few yards away, hidden among the undergrowth
+and boulders. But there was more than
+the robbery in his mind; it was not alone to make
+inquiries on the subject that he had ridden away
+on a journey Brennan could have accomplished
+equally well. There was a much more personal note
+in the affair.</p>
+
+<p>Durham was in love, and with a woman he had
+only met once, and of whom he knew nothing more
+than her name.</p>
+
+<p>Travelling one day by coach, he had, for a fellow-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>passenger,
+a woman. A dozen signs showed him
+that she was a new arrival in the country, unused
+to colonial ways, unversed in colonial methods.
+It was natural for him, at such places as they stopped
+for meals, to extend to her a share of the attention
+his official position secured for him. It was also
+natural for him to drift into conversation with
+her.</p>
+
+<p>The companion of his coaching experience was
+named Burke&mdash;Nora Burke&mdash;she had told him.
+Nora Burke was one of the victims of the bank
+robbery, and, apparently, the last person who had
+had anything to say to the vanished bank manager.
+It was more to ascertain whether the heroine of
+the coach journey were the same as the owner of
+Waroona Downs, than to learn what Eustace had or
+had not said, that Durham determined to ride out to
+the station.</p>
+
+<p>Even as his glance wandered over the picturesque
+scene before him, he was impatient to press on&mdash;five
+miles had yet to be covered before he reached Waroona
+Downs. He pulled the bridle with a jerk and rode
+steadily until he was clear of the range. Then he
+put his horse at a gallop and kept the pace till he
+saw the gleam of a light from the window of a house
+set back from the road. In the dusk he could not
+make out all the detail of the place, but Brennan
+told him the homestead was the first house he would
+come to after clearing the range.</p>
+
+<p>He swung on to the side track leading to the house.
+As he came up to it he saw the figure of a woman
+silhouetted against the light.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Is this Mrs. Burke's?" he called out.</p>
+
+<p>"And if it is, what might you want?"</p>
+
+<p>His heart leaped as he heard the answer&mdash;despite
+the sharp ring, sharp almost to harshness, he recognised
+the voice. It was that of the companion of his
+coach journey.</p>
+
+<p>A low verandah, about three feet from the ground,
+ran along the front of the house. It was on the
+verandah the woman stood. Durham sprang from
+the saddle, slipped his bridle over a post, and stepped
+up the short flight of stairs.</p>
+
+<p>The woman had drawn back into the shadow beyond
+the window. As he advanced, the light from
+the lamp within fell upon him, revealing to her the
+uniform he wore.</p>
+
+<p>With a soft, melodious laugh she came forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you say you were a trooper?" she
+said. "I thought&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I am Sub-Inspector Durham," he said quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, indeed," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>She met his glance without a suggestion of recognition
+in her own.</p>
+
+<p>"I have ridden out to ask you one or two questions
+in regard to the robbery at the bank, of which I
+understand you have heard," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Ask me questions? And pray what have I to do
+with the robbery, save that I am an unfortunate
+victim of the dishonesty of men you and the rest of
+the police ought to be chasing at this very moment?
+Ask me questions? It's me who has need to ask
+them of you. Where are my stolen papers?
+Where&mdash;&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If you will give me your assistance by answering
+the few questions I wish to ask you, I have no doubt
+that your papers, and all the rest of the stolen
+property, will very soon be recovered," Durham
+said. "I understand you saw Mr. Eustace this
+forenoon. Will you tell me&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ask Mr. Eustace himself," she retorted. "He
+can tell you what I said."</p>
+
+<p>She stood in front of him, with her hands hanging
+down hidden in the folds of her dress.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not detain you long. I have been travelling
+since early to-day and have to ride back to the township
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Travelling all day? Sure you must be tired!"
+she exclaimed. "Come inside and rest&mdash;this affair
+has so upset me I'm forgetting that Irish hospitality
+ought to be the first rule for Irish folk wherever they
+may happen to be. Come in, come in."</p>
+
+<p>She led the way into the room where the lamp was
+burning. As she stepped in through the long open
+window Durham saw she was carrying a heavy revolver
+in the half-hidden hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You were evidently prepared for emergencies,"
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed as she laid the weapon on the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>"After what happened to-day, Mr. Durham, I'm
+all nerves. When I heard you riding to the house I
+was frightened lest it should be some more of the
+scoundrels coming to see what else they could rob
+from me. You see, I'm all alone here except for
+poor old Patsy Malone&mdash;he's just a poor half-witted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>
+fool who was with my husband and my husband's
+father before him, and he thinks, poor old creature,
+that wherever I go he has to go too. I had to bring him
+out here with me to save the scandal he would have
+made. Sure, he's harmless enough anywhere, but what
+could he do if some of those thieving scoundrels rode
+up here and robbed me of the last few papers and
+things those bank rascals have not yet had the chance
+of stealing? But sit down, Mr. Durham, sit down.
+I'll tell the old fool to get you some tea&mdash;a cup won't
+harm you after your long ride. And maybe you'll
+take just a bit of something? You'll be hungry."</p>
+
+<p>She was out of the room before Durham could
+answer, but he heard her calling for her ancient
+retainer and giving him instructions with the same
+volubility that she had shown when speaking to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"It won't be a minute, Mr. Durham. Luckily the
+fire was still in, for Patsy was only finished washing
+the dishes scarcely five minutes ago. And what is
+the news from the township? Have they caught
+the robbers yet? Or do you think they have very
+far to look for them if they really want the man
+who did it? Now there's a foolish thing for me to
+say! I forgot. Of course, it's yourself that has come
+up to catch him. You'll forgive me, Mr. Durham,
+but I can assure you I never had so great a shock
+to my nerves as I had to-day. What's to become of
+me now that all those documents are gone? You see,
+when I came away my solicitor in Dublin&mdash;you see,
+he was my husband's solicitor and his father's solicitor
+before him, so, as you may judge, he is an old man,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
+though not so old as old Patsy out there&mdash;but, as I
+was saying, he said&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She commenced speaking as she entered the room,
+continued as she walked to the table and sat down,
+and appeared to Durham as though she were going
+on indefinitely.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you pardon me one moment," he said. "I
+left my horse at&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, of course," she cried, starting up.
+"Sure the poor beast will be tired, too, and
+hungry. Wait, wait, Mr. Durham, I'll send old
+Patsy&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, don't trouble. I'll just take the saddle
+off and turn him into the yard. It's Brennan's
+horse and had a feed before we started."</p>
+
+<p>He was out on the verandah before she could
+leave the room.</p>
+
+<p>When he returned, Mrs. Burke was watching a
+bent and decrepit-looking old man laying the cloth.
+He gave a furtive glance at Durham as he entered the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on with your work, Patsy, go on, and don't
+dawdle. Don't I tell you Mr. Durham is both tired
+and hungry? Never mind looking at folk. Go on
+now."</p>
+
+<p>Patsy mumbled an inaudible reply as he stooped
+over the table.</p>
+
+<p>"You must bear with him, Mr. Durham," she said
+as soon as the old man had left the room. "He's
+been so long with the Burke family he feels he's
+entitled to know everyone who comes into the place.
+You see what a fragile old creature he is&mdash;and he's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>
+all I've got in the place if some of those scoundrels
+come and attack us."</p>
+
+<p>She jumped out of her seat and paced from one
+end of the room to the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure I was a fool," she exclaimed. "I ought to
+have asked Brennan to come out. He's half Irish,
+leastways he's Irish born in Australia, and he'd
+have understood."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you need be afraid, Mrs. Burke,"
+Durham said quietly. "You're not likely to be
+troubled."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you don't know. You're a great strong man
+and able to fight a dozen maybe. But a lonely woman&mdash;haven't
+they got my papers, and won't they think
+that there's a lot more in the house and money too,
+maybe, and jewels? And what is there to keep
+them from robbing the place and burning it down
+over our heads, with only that poor old fool out
+there and a poor weak woman like myself to
+face?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her as she paced to and fro, her handsome
+figure moving with the grace of a Delilah
+and her wonderful eyes flashing a greater eloquence
+than her tongue, as her glance from time to time
+caught his.</p>
+
+<p>"You need not be afraid," he repeated. "Those
+responsible for the robbery of the bank will not be
+anxious to appear anywhere in public for some time."</p>
+
+<p>She stood in the centre of the room where the full
+glare of the lamp fell upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know," she said, "I don't know.
+I would not trust them. Besides&mdash;&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Besides what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I was thinking that nobody knows who
+they are for certain, and what difference would it
+make to them, or to any of us, if they rode down
+the main street of Waroona under the very noses of
+yourself and all the troopers in Australia?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is scarcely likely, Mrs. Burke."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," she repeated. "You don't know
+who they are, or you would have them inside the
+walls of the lock-up. Now tell me, have you any
+idea?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell you that, Mrs. Burke. What I can
+tell you is to put out of your mind entirely any fear
+that they will pay you a visit."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head and resumed her walk to and
+fro.</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose they come?" she exclaimed, halting
+at the table opposite to him. "Suppose they come
+at dead of night? I might be murdered in my bed
+while I was asleep and only know it when I woke up
+to find myself killed."</p>
+
+<p>Durham laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"It's true, and you know it, Mr. Durham. Sure
+I never was so shaken and nervous as I am to-night!
+Could you send Brennan out when you return to the
+township?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid that is impossible," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"But why? Sure the fellow has nothing to do
+but sleep, and he may as well sleep here as in his
+own quarters."</p>
+
+<p>"He is on duty to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"On duty? Now that the bank's robbed, I sup<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>pose
+he's guarding it? The horse is stolen, so you
+lock the door of the empty stable, Mr. Durham; but
+where there's a chance of another horse being stolen
+you let it look after itself as best it may. And that's
+what you call doing your duty and earning the money
+we poor unfortunate taxpayers have to provide for
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I cannot discuss that matter with
+you, Mrs. Burke," he said coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" she retorted hotly. "No, you can't. All
+you can do is to put the only constable in the place
+to guard an empty bank&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"There is a reason why Brennan should remain in
+the township to-night. It is therefore quite impossible
+for him to come out here&mdash;as well as being unnecessary."</p>
+
+<p>She flounced round and resumed her rapid striding
+until old Patsy appeared with the tea.</p>
+
+<p>"Make haste, now, Patsy, make haste!" she
+exclaimed. "Sure you are the slowest old fool
+ever set on the earth to delay and keep people
+waiting."</p>
+
+<p>The old man, mumbling to himself, set the meal
+and left the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mr. Durham, just make yourself at home
+with such scant hospitality as I can show you. If it
+was in Ireland, sure I'd give you a meal worth the
+eating, but here, with me not knowing whether I'm
+to own this place or not, and without a soul about
+it save useless old Patsy to do a hand's turn, you'll
+understand it's only a poor pot-luck sort of spread
+at the best I can offer. But such as it is, it is offered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>
+with a free heart, though you are going to leave me
+to be murdered by the scoundrels whenever they like
+to come."</p>
+
+<p>"You will laugh at your fears to-morrow," Durham
+said as he drew up to the table.</p>
+
+<p>"They are not fears, Mr. Durham. You don't
+know; you're not Irish, and so don't understand,
+but Brennan would. It's not fear. It's what we
+term presentiment. Not all the Irish have it, but
+only some of them. It's my misfortune to be one of
+them. I have it. Sure I was tortured the whole of
+last night, what with anxiety and sleeplessness and
+worry, and all through that wretched bank affair.
+It was presentiment. I tried to laugh myself out of
+it, but as soon as I got into the township this very
+morning, what did I hear? Of course, you know.
+Well, now I have just the same feeling that to-night
+there's to be more dirty work by those thieving
+scoundrels, and it's here they're coming this time,
+here&mdash;and I'm to be left to their mercy, just one poor
+weak, defenceless woman and an old half-witted fool
+of a man. It makes me just&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She left her sentence uncompleted as she turned
+away, with a break in her voice, and stood by the
+open window leading out on to the verandah. As
+Durham glanced at her he saw her shoulders heave
+and her hands convulsively clasp.</p>
+
+<p>Through the chill of her forgetfulness the love impulse
+surged.</p>
+
+<p>"If you are really so distressed about the matter,"
+he said quickly, "if you really fear you will be attacked
+to-night, I will stay here till the morning."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>With a magnificent gesture she faced round from
+the window and came swiftly towards him, her eyes
+sparkling, her lips wreathed in a happy smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a weight of care you have taken from
+my mind!" she cried. "I can rest now in peace and
+comfort without thinking that every moment may be
+my last on earth."</p>
+
+<p>"But if they come they may kill me. What
+then?" Durham asked, with a smile which had more
+than amusement in it.</p>
+
+<p>She flashed her brilliant glance at him, raising her
+eyes quickly to his and drooping them slowly behind
+the shelter of the dark, heavy lashes.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she said softly. "You are too brave a man&mdash;they
+will not dare to come while you are here."</p>
+
+<p>"And so your presentiment passes into thin air?"
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>"It's relieved," she said. "Maybe I'm too timid&mdash;that
+affair has upset me so much. Now tell me,
+do you really think you know who the thieves
+are?"</p>
+
+<p>She sat down at the table opposite to him and
+leaned her chin on her hands, her loose sleeves falling
+away from her arms and revealing, to the best advantage,
+their rounded whiteness. Into her eyes there
+came the flicker of a challenge, the sparkle of mischief
+which gave a new character to her face, a
+different expression to all he had hitherto seen. There
+was flippant raillery in her voice as she repeated her
+question.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really think you will find out who the
+thieves are?" she exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"One I already know," he replied, fixing his eyes
+on her as his square jaws set firm in his effort to refrain
+from allowing his features to relax into the smile
+which was hovering so near.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the lines round her eyes hardened,
+and the sparkle became a flash before it melted again
+as a rippling laugh came from her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"How terribly stern you look!" she cried in a
+mocking voice. "Do you ever think of anything but
+your work, Mr. Durham?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not when I have anything at all difficult on
+hand," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Then this does puzzle you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It has its difficulties; but, for all that, it is a
+problem I shall solve."</p>
+
+<p>Again the rippling laugh rang through the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, of course! Was there ever a case the
+police had in hand where they did not have a clue
+at the very beginning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Several," he answered. "A clever, resourceful
+criminal, Mrs. Burke, always has the advantage.
+Where they fail ultimately is in becoming too sure
+of themselves and too forgetful of the network of
+snares laid to entrap them and always waiting to
+trip them."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose that is so," she said slowly. "I suppose
+that is so. Poor things&mdash;I can't help pitying
+them, Mr. Durham. One never knows what lies behind
+their wickedness&mdash;what it was which first sent
+them rolling down the slope that ends&mdash;often&mdash;on the
+gallows."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She shuddered as she spoke, averting her face from
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"This is a dismal subject," he exclaimed. "Let
+us change it. Will you answer the questions I want
+to ask you about the bank affair?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ask them. Oh! ask the wretched things and
+let me get it over. Sure I begin to hate the mention
+of it," she exclaimed as she shrugged her shoulders
+impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>Without apparently heeding her objection, he asked
+her to say whether anyone was in the passage as she
+passed from the dining-room to the entrance of the
+bank.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course there was. Didn't I tell Brennan at
+once?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"His wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Brennan's?"</p>
+
+<p>"Brennan's! No! The bank manager's; she
+was just outside the door&mdash;listening, I'll be
+bound."</p>
+
+<p>"You are sure of that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure that she was listening? Well, isn't she a
+woman? What else would she be doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is all I want to ask you," he said
+quietly.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>"All?" she asked. "You rode out from
+Waroona merely to ask me that bit of a
+question?"</p>
+
+<p>He nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then," she exclaimed, "if that's how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>
+you're going to catch the thieves it's good-bye to
+my papers."</p>
+
+<p>The eyes which met his told of anger and indignation.</p>
+
+<p>"You expected a rigid cross-examination?" he
+asked, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I expected questions which would have some
+bearing on the affair," she retorted.</p>
+
+<p>"Your experience in this sort of thing is somewhat
+limited, Mrs. Burke. A tangled skein is unravelled
+by following a mere thread, not by tearing
+at the entire mass. I have hold of a thread, and I
+am following it."</p>
+
+<p>"And where will it lead you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where? It does not matter where so long as
+the tangle is made straight."</p>
+
+<p>"While my papers and my&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You need not be uneasy," he interrupted.
+"They are just as safe as though you held them in
+your hand."</p>
+
+<p>"Safe for those who stole them," she retorted,
+with a short, satirical laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Safe for you," he answered. "You have not
+been long enough in the country to realise how complete
+a system of detection we have here. I have
+never felt more certain of securing both the culprits
+and the stolen property than I am in this
+case."</p>
+
+<p>Again she gave a short, satirical laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," she said. "Of course. You know
+exactly where the thieves are and where they have
+hidden what was taken and also where they are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
+hiding. You can put your hands on them whenever
+you like. One does not need to come to Australia
+to hear that sort of romance, Mr. Durham; I
+hoped rather that one would not hear it in
+Australia, but you police are as capable at
+blundering and bungling and bluffing here as
+elsewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"I am neither bungling nor bluffing," he answered
+quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"You are doing both," she replied warmly.
+"What are you doing here now? Why have you
+come bothering me with ridiculous questions?
+What can I tell you more than the bank people
+themselves? Or is it that you think I am the thief?
+Why don't you say at once you suspect me&mdash;old
+Patsy and myself? Sure it would be in keeping
+with the rest of it&mdash;wasting your time and mine by
+coming out to ask who was in the passage when I
+left the dining-room! What has that to do with my
+loss? Do you think I care whether Mrs. Eustace
+heard what I told her husband? I'd say it to her
+face if she likes, just as I said it to his. I told him
+he ought to be arrested, and I say so to you. I'd
+arrest him and his wife and his assistant and his
+servant&mdash;everyone in the place if I had my
+way."</p>
+
+<p>He was watching the light flashing in her eyes,
+watching and admiring. The full rich tones of her voice
+vibrated with the heat of her words, her bosom rose
+and fell as in her indignation wave after wave of
+expression swept across her face, each one intensifying
+the charm she had for him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you include me in your list of suspects,"
+she blurted out as he did not speak. "Why don't
+you say so at once? Your questions certainly
+suggest it."</p>
+
+<p>"Do they?" he asked, with a smile which irritated
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, they do. What else do they suggest? It
+would be quite in keeping with the rest of the business&mdash;you
+riding out here to ask me pointless questions
+while the people most likely to have been concerned
+in the robbery are left alone. They are known, I
+suppose you will say, where I am a stranger, someone
+you have never seen before&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You are wrong," he interrupted, still smiling;
+"I have seen you before."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes concentrated on his with keen intensity.</p>
+
+<p>"When? Where?" she asked sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"We were fellow-passengers by a coach four or
+five months back. You have forgotten me, but I"&mdash;now
+that the personal note had been struck, the
+note he wished so much to sound and yet shrank
+from, he was almost carried away by it; by an effort
+he checked himself, and instead of telling her all
+that the meeting had meant for him, he added,
+"I rarely forget a face when I have once seen
+it."</p>
+
+<p>She flashed a swift glance at him, reading in
+his eyes, in his face, in his attitude, the confirmation
+of what she knew from the tone of his
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"But you&mdash;you do not&mdash;remember me," he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+slowly as she did not reply. He saw the glance,
+saw the fleeting questioning light in her eyes,
+and with the fatuity bred of love-blindness, misread
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"I do remember&mdash;distinctly," she answered softly.
+"I recognised you as you came on to the verandah.
+I thought it was you who had forgotten&mdash;or did not
+wish to remember."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke the last words softly, demurely,
+she raised her eyes to his and looked steadily
+at him with no sign on her face of her recent
+indignation.</p>
+
+<p>"I not wish to remember? I not wish to remember
+you?" he exclaimed in a ringing tone.
+"Why&mdash;it was because I have never ceased to remember
+that I came here to-night. Your name was
+mentioned at Waroona&mdash;it was the only clue you
+gave me when we parted, the only clue I had to follow
+when I tried to find you, tried to trace you every day
+since then. I have never ceased to seek for you,
+never ceased to think of you, nor to remember the
+day I met you. Had you not been here to-night,
+had I found it was someone else with a similar name,
+I should not have forgotten you&mdash;I shall never do
+that&mdash;never."</p>
+
+<p>She sat back in her chair, her eyes downcast, a
+slight frown puckering her brows. He saw the
+frown as she spoke and it checked his words, but he
+continued to watch her steadily, noting the graceful,
+yet seemingly unstudied way in which the wavy
+mass of her luxuriant hair was coiled on her head, the
+clear whiteness of her skin, the heavy fringe of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+drooping lashes. Even as he watched she raised her
+eyes to his.</p>
+
+<p>For one brief moment she allowed them to rest,
+filled with an earnestness and depth of softness that
+made his pulses leap again.</p>
+
+<p>Impulsively he stretched out his hand to her
+across the table.</p>
+
+<p>She lowered her glance, and a faint smile flickered
+round her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I must away," she said softly, as she arose.
+"You will need a good night's rest after your long
+and wearying ride."</p>
+
+<p>He pushed away his chair, as he started abruptly
+to his feet. The warmth of his impulse went
+cold.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall start with the dawn or before it," he said,
+keeping his eyes averted from the glamour of her
+face. "I have a riding-cloak. I will take this
+hammock-chair on to the verandah. Don't let me
+disturb you."</p>
+
+<p>"But you cannot go in the morning without a
+bite," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall require nothing," he said brusquely. "I
+shall be away before you are awake. I am merely
+staying to set your mind at rest on the question
+of the house being visited and robbed. Don't let me
+disturb you&mdash;or detain you."</p>
+
+<p>She bent her head slowly and gracefully.</p>
+
+<p>"As you will," she replied in a gentle voice.
+"Good night, Mr. Durham."</p>
+
+<p>Without waiting for a reply she turned and went
+from the room, closing the door quietly after her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He stood where she had left him, staring fixedly
+at the closed door.</p>
+
+<p>"I was a fool to come, a greater fool to speak," he
+muttered savagely. "What satisfaction is there in
+knowing who she is, when&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He swung round petulantly, diving his hand into
+his pocket for a pipe. When it was filled and lighted,
+he dragged his chair out on to the verandah, lowered
+the lamp flame to a glimmer, pushed-to the window,
+and lay back in the chair, blowing furious clouds of
+smoke out upon the night and staring, with unseeing
+eyes, into the dark.</p>
+
+<p>But always before him there floated the vision
+of the speaking grey-blue eyes looking at him from
+the shelter of their dark-fringed lashes; always
+in his brain he heard the gentle melody of her voice
+as she had last spoken to him, and always there
+came to taunt and goad him the jarring memory of
+the half-mocking way in which she had pushed back
+upon himself the frank revelation he had made. But
+though it jarred, it had no power to lessen the
+fascination she exercised over him. Despite her rebuff,
+despite the seeming hopelessness of his infatuation,
+it held him. The more he tried to force it back,
+the stronger it grew; the greater, the more
+beautiful and more lovable did Mrs. Burke appear
+to be.</p>
+
+<p>The jarring note passed from his memory. Under
+the soothing quiet of the night and the stillness of
+the bush, looming dark and mysterious against the
+sky, scarcely less sombre with only the light of the
+stars to illumine it, his fancy was filled with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
+image he had carried in his mind for so many months.
+The weariness of an arduous day added its softening
+influence, and he drifted out upon the sea of dreams
+and thence into a deep slumber, while yet his pipe was
+unfinished.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE FACE AT THE WINDOW</h3>
+
+
+<p>While Harding sat talking to Brennan in the office,
+Bessie came to him with a note.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Eustace asked me to give you this, sir,"
+the girl said, as she handed it to him at the door.</p>
+
+<p>He tore open the envelope. A single sheet of paper
+was enclosed, on which was written, "For the sake
+of the bygone days, come to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Mrs. Eustace?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"She's in her room, Mr. Harding, in her little
+sitting-room."</p>
+
+<p>It was one of the rooms where he had never been, a
+tiny chamber at the far end of the passage which she
+had made into a boudoir. Once he had seen into it
+through the open door, seen the daintiness with which
+it was decorated, a daintiness redolent of her as he
+had known her in the days when, for him, the world
+held no other woman.</p>
+
+<p>And she had chosen this as the place where they
+should meet!</p>
+
+<p>He knocked at the door, and heard her voice
+answer, bidding him to come in. She was sitting in
+a cane lounge-chair, listless, pale, and weary-eyed.</p>
+
+<p>As he entered she gave him one swift glance and
+then looked away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Do you wish to see me, Mrs. Eustace?" he asked
+in a cold, formal voice.</p>
+
+<p>She did not reply at once, but sat with her head
+bowed and her hands loosely clasped in her lap.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will say what you wish to as quickly as
+you can, I shall be obliged," he said. "Brennan is
+in the office, and I have some matters to arrange
+with him."</p>
+
+<p>Her head was raised slowly, steadily, until her face
+was turned full towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you please arrange them first?" she replied.
+"I want to say something which may take
+some time, and I&mdash;I would not inconvenience the
+bank."</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather hear what you have to say first,
+Mrs. Eustace."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not a matter I can sum up in a few brief
+sentences," she replied. "If you cannot arrange
+things with Brennan and then come to me here, pray
+forget I mentioned anything about it."</p>
+
+<p>He moved uneasily as she averted her face and sat
+back in her chair.</p>
+
+<p>"I will see what I can do," he said shortly, and
+left the room.</p>
+
+<p>When he returned to the office he found Brennan
+talking to Bessie, who had brought him some supper
+and a couple of blankets with which to make a bed
+on the floor. Brennan nodded towards them as
+Bessie disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"You know the idea of my being here at all, don't
+you?" he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"To tell you the truth, I don't," Harding replied.</p>
+
+<p>"The Sub-Inspector fancies someone may try
+to get back to learn what he can about our doings.
+You know who will most likely be asked, and so
+you see what it means when, as soon as I am here,
+and before I say a word about staying, these things
+are brought in. As if there is likely to be any sleep
+for me with the chance of the Sub-Inspector riding
+up any hour and catching me off duty. But it shows
+what's in the wind, doesn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Eustace has asked me to discuss something
+with her," Harding said quietly. "She knows you
+are here to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, Mr. Harding. She knows that, I've no
+doubt, but how did she or the girl know I was to be
+on duty here all the night? Don't you see? Supposing
+the Sub-Inspector is right, and a certain person
+we know wants to hear all that had happened since
+he went away, is he likely to come while I am here?
+It is not difficult to put a lighted lamp in a window,
+or to leave a blind pulled up or drawn down, is it?
+Anything of the kind is enough to give him a warning
+that the coast is clear or that there is danger ahead."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but we can easily stop that," Harding exclaimed.
+"We can easily prevent any signal being
+used."</p>
+
+<p>"If you know what the signal is," Brennan said.
+"But if you don't know, what are you to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have to watch."</p>
+
+<p>"That's it, we shall have to watch and take care
+nobody knows it," Brennan replied in a low tone.
+"Have you a revolver?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No. The one we kept in the bank was stolen from
+the drawer with the money."</p>
+
+<p>"Then slip this into your pocket," Brennan said,
+as he passed a bright nickel-plated "bull-dog" to
+Harding. "It's loaded in all the chambers and has a
+snap trigger; but it's no good for a long shot, though
+it makes as much noise as a service carbine. Don't
+hesitate to use it if anything happens&mdash;the noise will
+let me know, and there's no danger of hitting anyone
+with it unless you are a better shot than I am."</p>
+
+<p>"But where are you going?"</p>
+
+<p>Brennan jerked his head towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>"You see me off the premises and then tell the girl
+to fetch those blankets away again. After that,
+keep your eyes open and rest assured that as soon as
+you let off the barker I've given you, I shall not be
+far off. If there is any arrangement such as I have
+suggested, my going now will put them off their
+guard and our gentleman will get the signal to make
+his call as expected. Bringing in those blankets has
+given the game away&mdash;to me it shows just what is in
+the wind."</p>
+
+<p>When he had seen Brennan off the premises, Harding
+told Bessie to remove the blankets from the
+office, and returned to the little room.</p>
+
+<p>The door was ajar when he reached it, but there
+was no answer to his rap. He pushed it open and
+entered. Mrs. Eustace was not there.</p>
+
+<p>He turned, and came face to face with her as he
+stood in the doorway, though he had not heard her
+approach.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not hear you coming," he exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, I am wearing light shoes," she answered.
+"But won't you sit down? Have you made all your
+arrangements? I don't want to begin to say what I
+wish if you will have to go away before I have
+finished."</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing to call me away now. Brennan
+has gone," he said, as he took the chair she indicated.</p>
+
+<p>"Before I begin, I must ask you to forgive me for
+mentioning the subject at all," she said slowly.</p>
+
+<p>She sat facing him and, up to that moment, had
+kept her eyes fixed on him; but as she ceased speaking
+she glanced aside until her head was bowed as it
+had been previously. He took advantage of the
+opportunity to give one quick look round. The
+chair in which he sat was so placed that the profile
+of the person occupying it was thrown by the light
+of the lamp directly upon the window-blind. The
+window faced the bush at the back of the bank.</p>
+
+<p>He moved his chair until his shadow fell on the wall,
+but then the lamp was between her and himself,
+and he could not watch her face.</p>
+
+<p>"I will take this chair," he said shortly, as he
+stepped to the one where she had been sitting when
+he first came to the room. From it he commanded
+not only a complete view of her, but also out of the
+window, for the blind, pulled down to the full extent,
+was slightly askew, and left a space between it and
+the window-pane. Through that space he could
+see across the yard to the fence running round the
+allotment, and beyond it to the dark line of the bush,
+rendered the darker at the moment by the soft sheen
+of the rising moon showing above it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A silence followed his movement, a silence during
+which she fidgeted uneasily and impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"You do not answer," she said presently. "Shall
+I go on?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am waiting for you to do so," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"You will forgive me for mentioning this subject?"</p>
+
+<p>"You have not mentioned any subject yet, Mrs.
+Eustace. I don't know what it is you wish to talk
+about."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid it is very distasteful to you. I am
+not surprised if it is, but&mdash;if you knew everything in
+connection with it, you might think differently.
+That is why I want to tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said indifferently, as she paused.</p>
+
+<p>"You do not want to speak of it," she said again.
+"But I must explain&mdash;I ought to have done so
+directly you came up here. I want to explain my
+conduct to you when I returned your&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"There is no need," he interrupted her. "That
+matter was at an end at once. There is no benefit
+to be gained by attempting to revive it."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not seek to revive it," she retorted, colouring
+at his words. "Surely if I wish to set straight what
+I know is not straight, I am not seeking to revive it?
+I wish to make one thing clear to you. You have
+not known Charlie as long as I have. Neither do you
+know him as well as I do. In the face of the accusations
+made by that police inspector anything may be
+said or suspected."</p>
+
+<p>He did not reply, and she went on.</p>
+
+<p>"You, hearing Charlie painted in the blackest
+colours, are not likely to raise any protest either to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>
+yourself or to anyone else. You will rather believe all
+ill of him and will most likely impute things to him he
+never did. One thing I do not want blamed on to
+him. Those letters and things which were sent back
+to you, I sent&mdash;I sent them entirely myself&mdash;Charlie
+did not send them&mdash;I sent them."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him quickly and then away as
+though she feared to meet his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all you wished to tell me?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I wished to tell you&mdash;all about it. I do not want
+you to blame Charlie. It was not his fault&mdash;nothing
+was his fault. I was a silly, flighty girl and fancied
+myself in love with everyone, whereas, really, I never
+cared at all, not until I met him. I don't want you
+to think he was to blame, because, if you do, you may
+want to be revenged on him, and now you have this
+opportunity you may take it. If you believe me and
+realise he had nothing whatever to do with my
+changing my mind, more than to come into my life,
+as he did, then you may sympathise with him in his
+present trouble and save him all you can."</p>
+
+<p>She did not attempt to look at him again as she
+spoke. He leaned back in his chair and turned his
+glance away from her, away to the space between the
+window and the blind. The first glint of the moon
+was stealing over the dark line of the bush and
+spreading over the open country between it and the
+line of fence. He could see, indistinctly, what seemed
+to be a heavy shadow moving slowly away from the
+trees.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a subject on which I would rather say
+nothing, Mrs. Eustace," he said presently, without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>
+removing his eyes from the window. "If you wish to
+speak about it, and you think it will ease your mind
+in any way, I will listen to all you wish to say.
+But do not expect me to reply to you. Do not
+expect me to express any opinion. I do not wish to
+appear harsh, but I must tell you that so far as I am
+concerned, the curtain was rung down upon the last
+act of my romance when my letters were returned&mdash;was
+rung down to remain down for ever."</p>
+
+<p>"I was afraid it would be a distasteful subject to
+you," she said; "but I must talk about it&mdash;I must.
+I have wanted to tell you for so long&mdash;I wanted to
+write to you and explain after the things were sent
+off, but&mdash;but it was so difficult. I felt how horrible
+it was of me, how horrible and how mean, never to
+say one word, but just throw everything in your face
+after&mdash;after all you had done for me. I deserve to
+suffer what I am going through now&mdash;I deserve
+everything. It was so contemptible of me to allow
+myself to be&mdash;to do what I did," she added quickly,
+and he felt rather than saw the way she glanced at
+him, for he was still staring out through the narrow
+opening between the window and the blind, away
+at the curious dark shadowy patch which was slowly
+moving further and further away from the line of
+thickly growing trees.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you say one word? Not even that you
+forgive me?"</p>
+
+<p>Her voice was soft and gentle&mdash;the voice he
+remembered having heard so often in the bygone
+days&mdash;the days for whose sake she had appealed to
+him to come to her. He leaned forward in his chair,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
+staring through the little slit of space between the
+blind and the window, intent upon distinguishing
+what it was he saw, resenting what he believed to be
+her efforts to beguile him.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you hate me so much?"</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely above a whisper the words reached him,
+a whisper with tears in it, and his heart shrank at
+the sound. He turned quickly towards her.</p>
+
+<p>She started impulsively to her feet and held out her
+hands to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred!" she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>He sat unmoved, for the shadow in the distance was
+growing more and more distinct, and the suspicion
+with which he regarded her drove away every particle
+of commiseration, and made him blind to the emotion
+welling up in her eyes, hostile to the pathos in her
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>She clasped her hands and let them drop limply in
+front of her as she sank into her chair again.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am so lonely, so lonely," she murmured,
+"I don't know what to do. If you would only help
+me. I know I behaved horribly to you, vilely; but
+surely&mdash;surely you have some pity for me in my
+misfortune. I have no one to turn to&mdash;no one&mdash;no
+one. If you would only help me to understand&mdash;if
+you would only talk the matter over with me, it
+would be some relief."</p>
+
+<p>"There can be no benefit in talking over what has
+passed&mdash;the best thing is to forget it ever happened.
+That is what I have striven to do. If you returned
+my letters of your own free will, you were merely
+exercising a right to which you were perfectly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
+entitled. You preferred Eustace to me, that is
+all."</p>
+
+<p>"All?" she echoed in a tone of amazement.
+"All? Is that what you thought? Is that what you
+think?"</p>
+
+<p>"What else can I think?" he retorted. "If you
+chose for yourself&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She sprang up and faced him with widely opened,
+gleaming eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not," she cried. "I did not. There! Now
+you know. It was a&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She stopped abruptly, staring with eyes so full of
+entreaty that he looked away from her lest the
+emotion roused by her words, by her attitude and her
+eyes, carried him away at a moment when he required
+above all things complete self-control. To avoid her
+eyes he turned once more to the window&mdash;the moving
+shadow had grown clearer&mdash;it had split in twain,
+and he could distinctly see the forms of two horsemen
+riding swiftly towards the bank.</p>
+
+<p>The sight sent a chill through him; he recoiled
+from the woman whose pleading a moment before
+had thrilled him, recoiled from her as from some
+reptile. While she was appealing to him, pleading
+with him, the man she was expecting&mdash;whom she
+was even ready to vilify in order to throw dust in the
+eyes of the one who was a menace to him&mdash;was coming
+in response, probably, to a signal given by the clear,
+lamp-lit window-blind.</p>
+
+<p>He faced her where she stood, his eyes hard and
+cold, his mouth set stern.</p>
+
+<p>"I prefer not to hear anything further on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>
+subject," he said in a measured tone. "It is a subject
+which does not now concern me."</p>
+
+<p>"Fred!"</p>
+
+<p>Despite his anger, despite the resentment the
+spectacle of those two riders had roused within him,
+the anguish in her voice cut him. Her eyes, fixed on
+his, were filled with intense sorrow, her face went
+ashen.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Fred! I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She swayed as she stood, staggered, and sank into
+the chair between the lamp and the window, flinging
+her arms out over the table and burying her head
+upon them as she gave vent to a fit of sobbing.
+But as she moved, her shadow swept across the
+blind.</p>
+
+<p>He looked out again upon the moonlit scene&mdash;the
+horsemen had passed from the field of vision.
+He leaned forward to get a wider view, but there
+was no further sign of them&mdash;it was as though the
+shadow passing across the blind had been a danger
+signal on which they had acted immediately it was
+given.</p>
+
+<p>He wondered whether Brennan had seen them,
+whether he was also on the look out or was waiting
+hidden somewhere until he heard the warning shot.
+Harding was to fire in the event of anything happening.
+Ought he to fire now? Ought he to give the
+alarm or wait, lest the sound of the shot warned
+the two horsemen as well as alarmed Brennan?</p>
+
+<p>Leaning forward, with his attention riveted as he
+gazed through the narrow slit, he scarcely noticed
+that Mrs. Eustace had ceased to sob&mdash;the sudden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>
+appearance of her head, in shadow, upon the blind,
+made him start to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Put out that lamp," he exclaimed, but before she
+could move he was past her and had blown out the
+flame.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred! What is it?" she asked in an agitated
+whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence," he said fiercely, as he crept back to the
+window and stooped to peer into the night.</p>
+
+<p>Along the fence which formed the boundary of the
+bank's ground, the fence Durham had pointed out as
+the one over which Eustace must have made his
+escape, he saw the figure of a man stealthily creeping.</p>
+
+<p>He thrust his hand into the pocket where he had
+slipped the revolver Brennan had given him.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred! Fred! What do you see?" he heard
+Mrs. Eustace whisper, and in the dim obscurity he
+saw her come to his side.</p>
+
+<p>"Quiet," he said harshly.</p>
+
+<p>Both her hands, trembling, touched his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me," she whispered; "I will be brave. Who
+is it you see?"</p>
+
+<p>The thin streak of moonlight falling through the
+narrow space between the blind and the window
+glinted on the bright barrel of the revolver, as he
+drew it from his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>She fell on her knees beside him, her arms flung
+round him, her voice in his ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Fred&mdash;no, not that! Is it Charlie? Oh,
+don't&mdash;don't&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He pushed her back roughly, his eyes straining
+to catch another glimpse of the creeping figure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
+which had gone out of sight as he raised his revolver
+ready to fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, no! Don't shoot him! Don't, Fred,
+don't! He&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her words ended in a shriek, for even as she spoke
+there appeared outside the window, showing clear
+with the moonlight falling full upon it, the face of a
+yellow-bearded man. Harding wrested himself free
+from her clinging arms, leapt to the window, and tore
+the blind away.</p>
+
+<p>The form of the man, running swiftly, was disappearing
+amongst the bushes.</p>
+
+<p>Heedless of the glass in front of him, of the
+terrified woman at his knees, Harding raised his
+revolver and fired.</p>
+
+<p>As the shivered glass crashed to the ground, the
+report of other shots, fired in rapid succession, came
+from outside, and across the patch of grass, firing
+as he ran, Brennan dashed after the runaway.</p>
+
+<p>Harding scrambled through the broken window
+and ran after him.</p>
+
+<p>From behind the clustering shrubs which formed
+a screen in front of the chicken-run, there came the
+sound of horses galloping. Brennan stopped as he
+heard it. When Harding caught up to him, he was
+rapidly reloading his revolver.</p>
+
+<p>"He's slipped us," he cried. "The sub-inspector
+has my horse, and ordered me not to leave the bank
+till he came back. And there's that scoundrel riding
+away from under our noses!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see him?" Harding exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"See him? Wasn't I crawling on him round the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+house when she screamed out to him, and you fired?
+Another two minutes and I had him, yellow beard
+and all. Now we know who the man was who called
+at the bank to cash a cheque after hours. Anyhow,
+I'll have the woman safe before she can do any more
+mischief. I'll arrest her right away, and the girl as
+well. They're both in the game, if you ask me."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>SNARED</h3>
+
+
+<p>Durham awakened with a sense of oppression.</p>
+
+<p>For the moment he could not recall where he was.
+It seemed as though some sound had disturbed him,
+yet before he opened his eyes he realised the utter
+silence which reigned.</p>
+
+<p>It was the silence which brought back to him where
+he was. He had fallen asleep as he lay in the hammock
+chair on the verandah at Waroona Downs.</p>
+
+<p>In his half-awakened state he made an effort to sit
+up. But he could not move&mdash;arms, legs, body were
+held as though in paralysis. He could only open his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Before him, in the faint light shed by the down-turned
+lamp, he saw the figure of a man, leaning
+slightly forward, clad in the attire of an ordinary
+bushman&mdash;an unbuttoned jacket hanging loosely
+open over a cotton shirt; tweed trousers secured
+at the waist by a narrow strap; travel-stained
+leggings and heavy boots with well-worn spurs
+dangling at the heels. The head was covered by a
+soft felt hat pulled forward, shading the upper part
+of the face, while the lower was hidden by a thick
+growth of yellow beard. The hair, where it showed
+under the hat, was fair almost to whiteness and close-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>cropped.
+Eyebrows and lashes of the same light
+hue gave a sinister expression to the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Durham recognised him at once as the man
+Eustace had declared called at the bank after office
+hours.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Burke's presentiment had come true! The
+men from whom he had so lightly offered to protect
+her had stolen upon him while he slept.</p>
+
+<p>With a frantic plunge he strove to break free, at the
+same moment opening his mouth to shout a warning.
+But even as his lips parted, a hand came from behind
+him and placed a soft muffling substance over his
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Tie it&mdash;tight," the man in front said in a low
+whisper.</p>
+
+<p>Durham felt the passing of a thong round and
+round his head. He tried to raise his legs to kick the
+floor of the verandah, but they were too securely
+fastened to the sides of the chair. He could move
+neither hand nor foot. He was as helpless as though
+he were dead.</p>
+
+<p>The man with the yellow beard bent nearer.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll see you again&mdash;later," he whispered.
+"That's a good horse you were riding&mdash;Government
+property, I think, it was. Well, it has changed
+owners."</p>
+
+<p>He moved noiselessly away and Durham was left
+alone. Bracing his muscles, he strained at the cords
+which bound him, trying to writhe himself free.
+The chair creaked. In a moment the man with the
+yellow beard was back.</p>
+
+<p>"If you wriggle for a year you won't get free," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>
+said in a harsh whisper. "But I tell you what
+you will get; that's a crack on the head to keep you
+quiet. Do you hear? You lay still, or there'll be
+an ugly bump on your skull."</p>
+
+<p>He stepped out of sight, and Durham heard the
+window he had pulled-to quietly pushed open.
+A rage of mingled anger and jealousy swept over
+him. Regardless of the threat, he plunged and
+struggled till the veins in his head were bursting,
+and he smothered as the muffler over his mouth
+worked up and covered his nostrils.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a sound cut through the night which
+sent his blood cold.</p>
+
+<p>From within the house there came the wild,
+terrified shriek of a woman. A hoarse shout blended
+with it, and then the report of a revolver-shot echoed
+through the place.</p>
+
+<p>For a few minutes there was silence, deathly,
+nerve-destroying silence. Durham, trembling with
+mortification, strained his ears to catch some further
+sound.</p>
+
+<p>Two shots in quick succession rang out, followed
+by a rush of scuffling feet, and on the air there came
+the thud of galloping horses' hoofs.</p>
+
+<p>"They're off, Patsy! The rifle, quick! Quick!
+Oh, you old fool, be quick! They'll be too
+far!"</p>
+
+<p>Durham heard the words screamed in a high
+shrill voice. Thereafter he could only hear the
+hum of voices dimly.</p>
+
+<p>Presently they came clearer.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you only two got away, three horses and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>
+two men. I saw them. The other's somewhere.
+Sure I hope I put a bullet through him, and I believed
+him when he said he was a police inspector. Oh,
+what a country to come to. To think that the
+dirty&mdash;oh, look out, Patsy! Look out, you old
+fool!"</p>
+
+<p>The noise of a shot rang through Durham's head as
+though a pistol had been fired close to his ear. He
+saw a splinter fly from the verandah post as the bullet
+glanced off.</p>
+
+<p>"I've hit him! I've hit him! See if he's dead,
+Patsy. Don't be frightened. I tell you I'll cover
+him if he moves."</p>
+
+<p>The light spread clear as the lamp was turned up,
+and Durham heard the slow-moving footsteps of the
+old man approaching.</p>
+
+<p>"Bedad! It's all tied up he is!"</p>
+
+<p>Quick footsteps came, and as Durham turned his
+eyes he saw, looking down at him, with her hair
+flying loose, her cheeks white, and her eyes wild with
+excitement, Nora Burke.</p>
+
+<p>"What has happened? What does it mean?"
+she said slowly. "Patsy, get a knife and&mdash;no, let
+me."</p>
+
+<p>She reached and caught hold of the cord tied round
+Durham's legs.</p>
+
+<p>"Get a knife, Patsy. It is too tight to untie."</p>
+
+<p>Obedient, the old man brought her the table-knife
+Durham had used at his supper, and with it she cut
+through some of the cords.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you move now? Oh, it's a gag they put on
+you!" she exclaimed, as she leaned over him and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+cut the thong which held the muffler so securely
+across his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Free my arm, and give me the knife," he
+said, as soon as he could speak. "I will cut
+quicker."</p>
+
+<p>She placed the knife in his hand when she had
+slipped the cord twined round his arm. He could
+scarcely close his fingers on it, so stiff had they
+become, and he fumbled clumsily before he had cut
+himself free. Then he rose to his feet and stood
+unsteadily.</p>
+
+<p>Patsy had vanished; Mrs. Burke watched him
+from the shadow at the side of the window.</p>
+
+<p>"You saw them?" he exclaimed. "It was you
+who fired?"</p>
+
+<p>Before she could answer his eye caught sight of
+something white lying by the chair. He stooped
+and picked it up. It was what had been used
+to muffle his cries, and he saw it was a handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>Instinctively he opened it out, stepped into the
+full glare of the light and ran his eyes along the
+edge. At one corner a name, boldly written, showed
+clear.</p>
+
+<p>"Charles N. Eustace."</p>
+
+<p>He could not repress an exclamation as he read the
+name.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she cried, as she came over to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>She gripped his arm as she also read the name.</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace!" she cried. "Eustace&mdash;then it was
+he who&mdash;&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She stopped abruptly, staring at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you recognise him?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"It was dark&mdash;I only saw them against the sky.
+They had their backs to me as they rode off. I mean
+it was Eustace who robbed the bank."</p>
+
+<p>"When did you come to that conclusion?"</p>
+
+<p>"I said so at first&mdash;I told Brennan. Why did you
+not arrest him? I told Brennan to go in and arrest
+him when I left, before you arrived."</p>
+
+<p>"Brennan went to do so, Mrs. Burke."</p>
+
+<p>"Then&mdash;how could Eustace be here to-night if
+Brennan arrested him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Brennan did not arrest him. By the time he
+reached the dining-room at the bank it was empty.
+Eustace had disappeared. This handkerchief is the
+first token of him that has come to light since you
+saw him."</p>
+
+<p>"Disappeared?"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes opened to their utmost as she uttered the
+word. It was as though she could speak nothing
+more, for she stood staring, her clasped hands
+pressed to her bosom, her dishevelled hair flowing
+in great masses and framing her face with its dark
+folds.</p>
+
+<p>"Disappeared&mdash;until to-night," he said. "This
+handkerchief completes the chain of circumstances
+which points to Eustace as the person mainly concerned
+in the robbery."</p>
+
+<p>"How sad, oh, how sad, for his poor wife," she
+exclaimed. "Why is it, Mr. Durham, that the
+woman always has to suffer while the man goes
+free?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The man will not go free. There is a net spread
+for him he cannot possibly escape. Tell me, which
+way did they ride?"</p>
+
+<p>"You are not going after them? You must not
+do that&mdash;you must not face that risk."</p>
+
+<p>"Risk is the pastime of my life, Mrs. Burke. But
+in this there is no risk. I shall follow their tracks
+until I find where they are hiding."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no! You must not go. They will hear you
+coming; they will see you and then&mdash;think! You,
+who have only just escaped them! What mercy
+would they show?"</p>
+
+<p>"The mercy I would show them," he answered
+fiercely. "They have stolen the revolver from my
+belt. Will you lend me the one you have?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is the only one I have. What shall I do if they
+come back and I am without it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I must go without."</p>
+
+<p>He moved away, but before he had gone two steps
+she was at his side, her hand on his arm, her face
+turned appealingly to him.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you must not! Mr. Durham, I ask you.
+Don't go. You may be throwing your life away.
+They may come back. Don't leave me alone in the
+place. Don't, please don't. For my sake, for my sake,
+stay till it is light."</p>
+
+<p>Gently he took her hand in his and lifted it from
+his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"You who have been so brave to-night, would
+not have me show cowardice," he said softly. "These
+scoundrels must not remain at large a moment
+longer than we can help. There is more now at stake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+than the bank's money&mdash;I shall not rest till they
+are captured, for only then shall I feel you are safe."</p>
+
+<p>"But you must not go now."</p>
+
+<p>Her disengaged hand was laid gently, caressingly,
+on his shoulders; her face, showing white amid the
+tumbled mass of her tresses, was close to his, so close
+he could feel the faint fanning of her breath and catch
+the subtle perfume from her hair. The fingers of the
+hand he held gripped his in a clinging, lingering clasp;
+the hand on his shoulder pressed firmer; she leaned
+against him.</p>
+
+<p>"You must not go&mdash;you must not&mdash;for my sake,"
+she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>The head drooped till the tumbled tresses met the
+caressing hand; one pale cheek was so close to his
+he had but to bend his head to touch it with his lips.
+His arm slipped round her, drawing her soft, yielding
+form yet closer to him, and over him there swept a
+wave of emotion which in another moment had
+carried him away upon its crest, away from duty,
+away from the prosaic material world, away from
+everything but the woman he held.</p>
+
+<p>"You must not say that," he said hoarsely.
+"You must not. You are the last who should try
+to turn me from my duty."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I cannot&mdash;I cannot let you go&mdash;it may
+be to your death. Wait till day comes," she answered.
+"There are horses in the paddock. Patsy
+can fetch you one. If you go now you will only
+wander aimlessly in the dark while they may turn
+upon you, if they do not get farther and farther away.
+Stay till the dawn."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It will not be dawn for many hours."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what time do you think it is? It is nearly
+four."</p>
+
+<p>Nearly four! Then he had slept right through the
+night so soundly that on waking he thought he had
+only dozed.</p>
+
+<p>"You will not go? Tell me you will not go?" she
+whispered, and he felt her hands touch him lightly.</p>
+
+<p>He drew back, fearful lest her fascination again
+overmastered him.</p>
+
+<p>"Show me which way they went," he said
+brusquely, as he walked to the steps leading down
+from the verandah.</p>
+
+<p>As he reached them he turned. Mrs. Burke had
+drawn back into the shadow beyond the open
+window.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you show me which way they went?" he
+repeated.</p>
+
+<p>He saw her hide her face in her hands, and the
+sound of a choked sob came to him. In a moment he
+was at her side.</p>
+
+<p>She shrank to the wall as he approached, raising
+her head and shaking back the loose locks which
+streamed across her face.</p>
+
+<p>"Go!" she exclaimed. "Go! Leave me! What
+am I that you should care? Only a poor, weak,
+sad, and lonely woman. Forget&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Do not say that," he answered quickly, his voice
+vibrating with passion. "You&mdash;you do not know&mdash;I
+would give my life&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I will not give you cause to say I kept you from
+your duty, Mr. Durham," she went on. "Forget<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>
+my weakness. I promise you it shall never occur
+again."</p>
+
+<p>She slipped past him and stood for a moment
+at the window, just long enough to flash one look of
+resentment at him before she passed into the room
+and extinguished the lamp.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE NOTE THAT FAILED</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Durham, having walked in from Waroona
+Downs, arrived at the bank, he found the township
+in a state of excitement bordering on panic.</p>
+
+<p>The noise of the firing during the night had brought
+everyone who was awake at the time rushing to the
+scene. Men had mounted their horses and raced
+away in the direction the fugitives were supposed to
+have taken, returning hours afterwards with the
+information that no trace of them could be discovered,
+beyond the prints of their horses' hoofs, here and
+there, right up to the line of rocky rises which formed
+the commencement of the range.</p>
+
+<p>Durham brushed aside the volley of questions
+directed at him as to how it came about that he had
+returned on foot. Passing into the bank he asked
+Harding to come with him into the manager's office,
+and told Brennan to clear everyone else out of the
+building.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he had heard Harding's account of what
+had happened, he produced the handkerchief bearing
+Eustace's name.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you identify that?" he asked. "It is
+marked, but I want to know if you can recognise it
+apart from the name it bears?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It is like the handkerchiefs I use," Harding
+answered, as he pulled one out of his pocket.
+"Eustace and I ordered some to be sent up, and we
+divided them, taking half each."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you mark them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Eustace did that for us. Is the name on
+this?"</p>
+
+<p>He turned it round until he saw the name.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is one of Eustace's," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"What time do you think it was when you saw
+that man's face at the window?" Durham inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Between half-past nine and ten&mdash;nearer ten
+probably."</p>
+
+<p>"Was the face familiar?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was, but I cannot recall where I have seen it
+before. It struck me as being a familiar face disguised.
+It was not Eustace's."</p>
+
+<p>"You feel sure of that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm quite sure. I wish you had been here to have
+seen it."</p>
+
+<p>"I did see it."</p>
+
+<p>"But you were at Waroona Downs."</p>
+
+<p>"So I was. It was there I saw it. That man and
+his companion stuck the house up. I was asleep on
+the verandah and they must have crept on me, for
+when I awakened I was bound hand and foot. The
+man you describe was standing in front of me. When
+I attempted to shout to warn Mrs. Burke, a handkerchief
+was pressed over my mouth and tied by
+someone who kept behind me. That is the handkerchief
+which was used. Who would you say
+tied it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should suspect Eustace, of course; or do you
+think the man with the beard was Eustace?"</p>
+
+<p>Durham shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said. "The description I have of
+Eustace does not agree at all with the build and
+general appearance of that man. If Eustace were
+there at the time he must have kept behind me. Is
+Mrs. Burke a woman who talks much?"</p>
+
+<p>"Talks? She does nothing else. She tells everyone
+everything."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it is no use my trying to keep this episode
+of the handkerchief quiet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not if she knows anything about it. She will tell
+everyone about it directly she comes to the township."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, she knows about it. She is a plucky woman.
+She drove them off, firing at them; then she discovered
+me on the verandah and nearly shot me
+into the bargain. When I was set free this handkerchief
+was on the verandah and she saw it as soon as
+I picked it up."</p>
+
+<p>"Then everyone in the township will hear about
+it," Harding said. "She is to come in this afternoon
+to meet Mr. Wallace."</p>
+
+<p>"When is he due?"</p>
+
+<p>"About noon he ought to be here."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll ride out and meet him," Durham said
+shortly. "Is there anyone in particular who was
+with the crowd last night to whom I can go for
+further information?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Gale was one."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'll see him," Durham said, and left the bank,
+finding Gale in the street discussing the latest
+raid with half a dozen other men of the town.
+He left them at once and came over to the sub-inspector.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, it's no use wasting more time," he
+exclaimed warmly. "We all say there is only one
+thing to be done if those scoundrels are to be caught.
+We must scour the ranges. I'll volunteer and so will
+everyone else in the place. The only hope is to
+ride them down."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite useless," Durham replied curtly.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the only course to adopt," Gale retorted.
+"We're all bushmen here and know what's the proper
+thing to do. You can't apply town methods to bush-rangers,
+you know. You may be the smartest man in
+the force at catching city burglars and spielers,
+but you are out of your element in the bush.
+There's only one thing to be done&mdash;track them
+down."</p>
+
+<p>"How many are there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, two for certain&mdash;probably more."</p>
+
+<p>"Probably more&mdash;exactly. And most probably
+one or other of the remainder is in the town acting as
+a spy for the others. If that is so, what will happen
+when you set out in force? Everyone would volunteer,
+as you say, and one of the number would give
+warning of what was being done. What chance would
+there be then of making a capture? You tried last
+night. What was the result?"</p>
+
+<p>"We found their tracks."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then why didn't you follow them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because with the crowd riding all over the
+ground we lost them, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Just so," Durham interrupted. "It is what
+would happen again if your suggestion were carried
+out. This is a one man's job, Mr. Gale. Directly I
+want assistance I will come to you, but in the meantime
+I must ask you to keep your fellow-townsmen
+from interfering."</p>
+
+<p>He went on to the police-station, leaving Gale to
+convey his refusal of assistance to the men who were
+keen on taking the matter into their own hands. The
+refusal was received with open resentment and the
+group moved towards the station to argue the
+matter out with the sub-inspector, but before they
+reached it Durham rode out of the yard and set
+his horse to a gallop along the road leading to the
+railway.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, boys, he's got a clue," one of the
+men exclaimed scornfully. "He's going to catch them
+at the junction!"</p>
+
+<p>"Give him a cheer for luck," another cried, and the
+ironical shout reached Durham as he galloped. But
+he paid no heed to it, riding on steadily till he was
+away from the town and some miles along the road
+when he saw, coming towards him, a pair-horse buggy
+accompanied by a couple of mounted troopers. As
+they came nearer he recognised Wallace in the buggy.
+The troopers drew to the side of the track as he reined
+in beside the vehicle.</p>
+
+<p>"Come back along the road a bit," he exclaimed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>
+as he got off his horse and gave the bridle to one of the
+troopers.</p>
+
+<p>"Why are these troopers with you?" he asked
+when he and Wallace had walked out of
+hearing.</p>
+
+<p>"I have close on thirty thousand pounds in the
+buggy. I have had to bring with me not only
+sufficient funds to enable the bank to carry on its
+ordinary business, but a further twenty-five thousand
+in gold to carry through the purchase of Waroona
+Downs from Mr. Dudgeon."</p>
+
+<p>"Why is it necessary for all this gold to be used?
+I did not care to ask Mr. Harding, but if it is not a
+bank secret&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it is no secret," Wallace exclaimed. "Mr.
+Dudgeon had a quarrel with the bank some time
+since, and, in addition to giving himself a great deal
+of unnecessary trouble, he delights in making everything
+we have to do with him as unpleasant and
+difficult as possible. Any payments we have to make
+to him have to be made in gold. He is legally entitled
+to demand it, and he avails himself of his right to the
+utmost. That is why I have had to push through
+with the amount so as to be able to complete Mrs.
+Burke's purchase to-day. As we were not anxious to
+lose another twenty-five thousand, we obtained an
+escort from head-quarters, but I fancy the men have
+to return to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace would know this second amount would
+have to be sent up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course he would."</p>
+
+<p>"And the presence of your escort would announce<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
+to him or his spies, assuming that he is concerned in
+the robbery, that you have it with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally; but the risk was more than the
+general manager would allow for me to travel with
+it unless I had police protection."</p>
+
+<p>"You expect to pay it out this afternoon?"</p>
+
+<p>"I anticipate Dudgeon will be at the bank clamouring
+for it, under threat of crying off the sale, by the
+time I get there. The first thing I shall most probably
+do is to pay it over."</p>
+
+<p>"So that it will soon be out of the bank, and the
+bank's interest in it will have ceased."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly," Wallace replied. "Mr. Dudgeon, who
+refuses to act through the bank, will have the
+pleasure of providing his own strong-room for its
+safe keeping."</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace would know that too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will have to send one or both of those
+troopers with Mr. Dudgeon; otherwise he will be
+robbed to-night. It would certainly be the last thing
+necessary to identify Eustace with the robbery at the
+bank, but there is already enough to prove that, to
+my mind. Your duty ceases when you have handed
+this sum over, but there mine begins."</p>
+
+<p>"I intend to suggest to Mr. Dudgeon the advisability
+of his having police protection while the gold is
+in his possession, in view of what has already occurred.
+But I am quite sure that the suggestion will be
+treated with contempt."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me where Mr. Dudgeon lives."</p>
+
+<p>"He has another station on the opposite side of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
+the township to Waroona Downs, about ten miles
+out. He wants to sell that, too, and I don't mind
+saying we all hope he will soon find a purchaser."</p>
+
+<p>"How many men has he there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he sold off all his stock from both places and
+discharged his hands some months ago. He might
+have a couple of men about the place, but not any
+more, I should say."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, try and persuade him to take the escort.
+If he will not, send the men out to the station to-night.
+I shall probably be there by the time they arrive, but
+you need not mention this to them. Give the impression,
+if you can, that I am on my way to Wyalla,
+and don't be surprised if I take you unawares any time
+between this and noon to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm never surprised at anything you do, Durham,"
+Wallace retorted grimly. "We're quite satisfied the
+money will be recovered if head-quarters leave you
+alone."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so&mdash;I can't say more," Durham said.</p>
+
+<p>"But I can," Wallace continued. "It's in confidence,
+of course, but the directors have decided that
+in the event of your recovering this money they will
+present you with five thousand. I don't suppose that
+will make you work any harder, but it may interest
+you to know it."</p>
+
+<p>Durham rode at a slower pace when he had parted
+with Wallace than when he came out of the township.
+The news that a fifth of the missing money
+would be his when he recovered it gave him a far
+greater incentive than Wallace anticipated. With
+five thousand pounds behind him he knew his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>
+prospects of winning the woman who had fascinated
+him would be much greater than if he had only his
+official salary as a financial backing to his suit.
+Further, if he succeeded in recovering the gold he
+would also recover the stolen documents. He had
+little doubt but what he would be able to woo her
+successfully, were he able to return to her the papers
+which had been stolen and go to her with his freshly
+won laurels of victory.</p>
+
+<p>A mile down the road he turned his horse into the
+bush and rode straight for the range which rose
+between the township and Waroona Downs. Skirting
+the flanking spurs, he followed on until he caught
+sight of the tracks left by the horsemen who had
+ridden after the fugitives the night before. In their
+haste and lack of system, he saw how they had
+crossed and recrossed the marks left by the riders
+they were chasing. He walked his horse to and fro
+until he came upon the tracks of the two horses
+showing clear beyond the jumbled confusion of hoof-prints
+the amateur trackers had made.</p>
+
+<p>The two had ridden direct to the range. As he
+followed the track, bending down in his saddle to
+note the marks, he laughed aloud. The men were
+the veriest fools at bush-craft. There were instances
+by the dozen which revealed to him the fact that
+neither had had any experience in tracking, and so
+had failed to avail themselves of the chances the
+ground they had ridden over offered to render their
+track difficult to follow. Where the ground was soft,
+they had not swerved to avoid it, but had left the
+prints of their horses' hoofs showing so clearly that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>
+to the skilled bushman it was as an open book he
+could read as he rode. Where low-growing shrubs
+stood in their way they had crashed through, sometimes
+setting their horses to jump what should have
+been ridden round. Everywhere the same thing was
+manifest. The riders were not bushmen; they were
+in a great hurry; they were in country with which
+they were not acquainted, and were hastening
+towards some landmark that would bring them to
+a locality where they would be more at their ease.</p>
+
+<p>As he followed the track, he sat back in his saddle.
+There was no need to study the ground when he
+could see the hoof-prints showing right ahead. So
+it was that he saw what those other riders had failed
+to distinguish in the half light of the moon. There
+was a sudden dip in the surface, a shallow depression
+sloping down to a little stream. Riding, as they must
+have been riding, at a full gallop, it was a trap for an
+unsteady horse and one of the horses was unsteady,
+for it had propped at the brow of the slope, slipped,
+and come down on its knees, pitching its rider clear
+over its head.</p>
+
+<p>The spot where he fell was still distinguishable by
+the bent and broken herbage and his heels had
+scored the ground as he scrambled to his feet, caught
+his horse, and hastily remounted. He had been in a
+great hurry and so had his companion, for there was
+no break in the tracks of the second horse&mdash;the other
+man had ridden on without a moment's halt, had
+ridden past his fallen companion and left him to do
+the best he could for himself. All this was plain at
+one glance. Again Durham laughed aloud at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>
+folly of the pair, as he reined in his horse and sprang
+from the saddle.</p>
+
+<p>In his fall the fugitive rider had dropped something.
+It lay white on the ground just beyond the mark he
+had made in falling. Durham picked it up&mdash;a closed,
+unaddressed envelope bearing the bank's impress on
+the flap.</p>
+
+<p>He tore it open. Inside was a sheet of paper with
+the bank's heading, but undated.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"No one saw me go, and I am safe now where they
+will never find me. Stay there till you hear from me
+again. A friend will bring you word. Ask no
+questions, but send your answer as directed. You
+must do everything as arranged, or all is lost. Whatever
+you do, don't leave till I send you word. I am
+safe till the storm blows over.&mdash;C."</p></div>
+
+<p>As Durham read the words, written in pencil and
+obviously in haste, he was satisfied that his suspicion
+not only of Eustace, but of Mrs. Eustace, was correct.
+The man with the yellow beard whom he himself had
+seen, was possibly the "friend," through whom
+communication was to be maintained between
+husband and wife. He and Eustace had evidently
+ridden in during the evening with the intention of
+advising Mrs. Eustace of the successful flight of her
+husband. Hesitating to approach the bank, until
+he was certain the way was clear, Eustace had
+given the note to his companion to deliver. Harding's
+vision of the face at the window completed the
+picture. The man had crept up to the window of the
+room where it was probably arranged Mrs. Eustace<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>
+was to wait. So long as any other person who might
+have been in the room occupied the chair Mrs.
+Eustace placed, the shadow on the blind would warn
+the visitor that the coast was not clear. It was due
+to the fact that Harding had noticed the shadow and
+had moved to another chair that the man had so
+nearly been captured.</p>
+
+<p>What had followed was equally clear to Durham's
+mind.</p>
+
+<p>Directly he found he was discovered the man had
+run to his horse and, together with his companion,
+had galloped off, too quickly to allow him either to
+explain how he had failed to deliver the message or
+to hand it back to Eustace. It was most probably
+he who had come down with his horse at the edge of
+the depression, by which time the letter would have
+passed completely from his mind and so he would
+not notice its loss. Under the circumstances it was
+very unlikely he would tell the truth to his companion,
+but would rather leave Eustace under the impression
+that the letter had been put where Mrs. Eustace
+would find it. Sooner or later, therefore, Eustace
+would make another attempt to communicate with
+his wife. If he were not captured otherwise there
+would be every hope of securing him by keeping a
+close watch upon her.</p>
+
+<p>With the letter in his pocket Durham remounted
+his horse and continued to follow the track. It led
+him into the broken country which formed the outlying
+spurs of the range, and continued along a narrow
+depression lying between two ridges. The trees grew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>
+closer together in the shelter of the little valley, and
+the track turned at right angles and continued up
+the side of one of the ridges.</p>
+
+<p>The surface became more rocky and Durham had
+to watch closely for the hoof-prints as he gradually
+ascended to the top. For a time the track ran along
+the summit and then turned down the other slope,
+following the course of what, in the rainy season,
+would be a small rivulet. This again turned where it
+met the bed of a larger stream and Durham set his
+horse at a canter as he saw, distinct as a road, the
+marks left by the runaways right along the bed of the
+stream.</p>
+
+<p>As he went he worked out the direction in which he
+was travelling; the stream he was following was
+evidently one which fed the watercourse crossing the
+road in the range. It turned and twisted in and out
+small flanking spurs, down the sides of which
+other streams had cut narrow scars, now as dry
+as the stream-bed along which he was riding,
+but which, in the time of the rains, would be
+roaring little torrents adding their quota to
+that great pool dammed back by the mountain
+road.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the creek took a sharp turn round a jutting
+bluff, and as he passed beyond it he reined in his
+horse. Scarce twenty yards in front was a sheet of
+water, its surface, without a ripple, reflecting the
+tree-clad slopes that encompassed it. In the sand of
+the stream-bed the track was so strong it might have
+been made only a few hours ago.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He rode warily to the water's edge. The pool
+stretched on both sides away into the hills, but it was
+not that which made him rein in his horse and sit
+motionless.</p>
+
+<p>Along the margin of the pool there was a strip of
+sandy soil. It extended to the right and to the left
+of the creek-mouth. Upon it the marks both of
+wheels and hoof-prints showed.</p>
+
+<p>The tracks he had been following swung sharp
+to the right; the wheel-marks came from the
+left, crossed the creek-bed and continued to the
+right.</p>
+
+<p>His first impulse was to spur his horse along the
+track to the right, see where it led, and then return
+along it to the left, but the twenty-five thousand
+pounds to be paid to Dudgeon would be at the mercy
+of the marauders, if, as Wallace anticipated, the old
+man refused police protection.</p>
+
+<p>Great as the temptation was to learn where the
+track led and whence it came, Durham set his face
+against it.</p>
+
+<p>He had stumbled on a clue, but the following it up
+was not for that day. Later he would return and
+complete his discovery. For the present he must
+leave it.</p>
+
+<p>There was a long ride before him if he were to
+reach Dudgeon's homestead at Taloona by sunset.
+That Eustace was one of the two men concerned in
+the robbery of the bank he had now no doubt. The
+question he had to consider was who the other man
+was. At the back of his mind there was a lurking
+suspicion that the owner of Taloona might possess<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>
+information on the subject if he could be induced or
+inveigled to reveal it.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced regretfully in the direction the tracks
+led. He would have preferred to follow them to the
+end, but after all he might get nearer the solution of
+the problem by a visit to Taloona.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>DUDGEON'S HOSPITALITY</h3>
+
+
+<p>Within half an hour of Wallace's arrival at the bank
+Dudgeon drove up.</p>
+
+<p>He scrambled out of his rackety old buggy and
+stamped into the place, passing direct into the little
+room Eustace had used as a private office, where,
+by the chance of circumstances, he came face to face
+with Mrs. Burke.</p>
+
+<p>His keen, grey, hawk-like eyes flashed an envenomed
+look at her, and were met by a glance not
+one whit less steadfast. For a moment he stood, his
+shaggy white brows meeting in a scowl as he found
+himself confronted by one who even to his distorted
+vision possessed a charm of face and figure such
+as he had not seen since the days of Kitty
+Lambton.</p>
+
+<p>Something in the eyes which met his touched a
+chord of memory long suppressed. So Kitty had
+looked when he met her for the first time after her
+flight with O'Guire; so she had looked the last time
+he had seen her when she had pleaded for mercy to
+her dying parents and he had taunted her and mocked
+her till she turned and left him with curses as deep-voiced
+as any he himself could have uttered.</p>
+
+<p>"This is Mrs. Burke, the purchaser of Waroona<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>
+Downs, Mr. Dudgeon," he heard, and faced round
+on the speaker, turning his back upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" he blurted out.</p>
+
+<p>"I am the officer in charge of the bank for the
+time being," Wallace replied suavely.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's Eustace? He's the only man I know
+in the matter."</p>
+
+<p>"He is not here at present, Mr. Dudgeon. But
+that need not concern you. I assume you have
+come to complete the sale of&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I only know Eustace. I'm prepared to deal
+with him&mdash;I don't know you and don't want
+to."</p>
+
+<p>"Unfortunately Mr. Eustace cannot be present.
+But I am in his place. I arrived from the head office
+this morning with the gold you demand as payment
+for the sale of Waroona Downs. You may have
+noticed it as you came in&mdash;the bags are on the counter
+in charge of the police escort."</p>
+
+<p>"But where's Eustace? That's what I want to
+know."</p>
+
+<p>He looked from Wallace to Harding savagely.</p>
+
+<p>"If you are prepared to sign the transfer, Mr.
+Dudgeon, we can proceed with the business," Wallace
+replied. "Mrs. Burke is waiting."</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon glanced at her covertly.</p>
+
+<p>She was standing, as she stood throughout the
+subsequent proceedings, a silent spectator, irritating
+him by the mere fact that she was so absolutely
+impassive. When the time came for her to sign the
+formal documents which made Waroona Downs hers,
+Wallace placed a chair at the table; but she ignored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
+it, bending down gracefully as she signed her name in
+beautifully flowing characters.</p>
+
+<p>Old Dudgeon's hands, knotted and stiff with
+many a day's toil, were not familiar with the pen.
+As he laboured with the coarse, splodgy strokes
+which ranked as his signature, the sight of the delicate
+curves of the letters she had made fanned the flame
+of his wrath still higher. He also stood to sign, not
+because she had done so, but because he scorned to
+use a chair which belonged to his enemies. When
+he drew back from the table he saw how she had been
+standing almost behind him, looking over his shoulder
+as he wrote. A smile which he read as a sign of
+derision was on her lips and in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>He kicked the chair viciously towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you sit down, woman?" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I prefer to stand&mdash;man," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time he had heard her voice, and he
+started at the sound, wincing as, with one quick,
+furtive glance, he met her eyes again.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all you want?" he asked Wallace
+abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Mr. Dudgeon, that is all. Will you
+take the gold with you, or leave it for safety in the
+bank?"</p>
+
+<p>"Leave it at the bank, eh?" he sneered. "No,
+thank you, Mr. Wallace, I trust you as far as I trust
+your bank, and you know how far that is without my
+telling you."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, Mr. Dudgeon. Will you watch it
+while it is being carried to your buggy? There are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
+two troopers here who have acted as my escort from
+the head office. If you care to take them with you
+as a protection&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I want neither you nor your troopers," Dudgeon
+snarled. "I can take care of myself and my money,
+too, without anyone's help."</p>
+
+<p>He watched, with undisguised suspicion, while the
+counted piles of sovereigns were replaced in the bags,
+while the bags were carried away and stacked in the
+rackety old vehicle. Then, when the tally was complete,
+he walked out of the bank, climbed into the
+buggy, gathered up the reins and drove away without
+a word or a glance for anyone.</p>
+
+<p>The bitterness of defeat was rankling in him, the
+defeat of his lifelong determination that never,
+while he was on the earth to prevent it, should a
+woman live where his faith in the sex had been
+wrecked. It was bitter to think how he had been
+foiled after all by a woman, but still more so when
+the woman was of such a type as the one who had outwitted
+him. It was a new experience for him to be
+beaten at his own game, still a newer experience to
+find himself remembering the one by whom he was
+beaten as he was remembering the woman whose
+voice, despite his surly antagonism, rang in his ears
+with a melody which was as the song of a syren.
+Each time he had measured swords with her she
+had triumphed&mdash;just as, in the far-off days, Kitty
+Lambton had triumphed.</p>
+
+<p>Kitty Lambton!</p>
+
+<p>He pulled himself up short as the name passed
+through his mind. Why should he recall her now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
+as Kitty Lambton when she had ceased to be that
+the day she left Waroona Downs with O'Guire?
+Why should this resolute woman recall her as Kitty
+Lambton and not as Kitty O'Guire?</p>
+
+<p>As he drove along the lonely bush track which
+led to Taloona, his mind drifted across the years
+to the time when first he had come to the district,
+to the time when Kitty Lambton stood for him
+for all that was noble and generous and pure in life;
+when he was content to work the livelong day with a
+light heart and happy mind, satisfied with the reward
+of her presence when his day's work was done.
+For a mile or so of the journey he strove to nurse his
+resentment against this clear-eyed woman whose
+raven black hair was in such absolute contrast to the
+flaxen locks of the vanished Kitty, but whose voice
+had caused the intrusion of these bygone memories
+into his waking thoughts. But gradually, unconsciously,
+the long-suppressed recollections of the girl
+who had charmed his youthful fancies took possession
+of him.</p>
+
+<p>Hitherto, whenever he had remembered her, it
+was with bitterness and anger; but now his mind
+was as free from anger as though the cause for it
+had never existed. It was the time when Kitty
+was the charmer which had come to him, the time
+when the gnawing anguish of betrayal was unknown,
+and slowly there obtruded itself upon him a dim,
+shadowy, speculating wonder as to all which might
+have been had she never changed for him from the
+charmer to the betrayer.</p>
+
+<p>But he was not used to introspective analysis, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>
+the efforts to grapple with the subtleties of his own
+subconscious memories brought a tendency to his
+mind to lose the clear-cut edge of a fact in a blur of
+misty vision. No longer did the memory of Nora
+Burke irritate him. Had he associated her with
+Kitty the betrayer, the irritation would never have
+passed; but as it was Kitty the charmer her voice
+brought to him, he drifted, in the sere and yellow
+age, down the stream of fantasy upon which he had
+turned his back in scorn when the blood of youth
+ran in his veins.</p>
+
+<p>For miles the road slipped by unnoticed and unheeded
+as the old horse stumbled on at his own pace,
+unguided by the hand that held the reins. The breath
+of life had sought to fan the withered soul, but only
+one small spark, deep-smothered by the dead mass
+of loveless years, smouldered weakly where the record
+of a long life filled with human sympathy should
+have blazed in answer. The gold for which he had
+striven lay forgotten at his feet; the hate which he
+had nurtured passed, a vapid filmy shade, as the
+withered soul shrank shivering, chilled at the void
+the one poor spark revealed.</p>
+
+<p>The sight of his solitary hut, glowing in the warm
+mellow light of the evening sun, broke in upon a
+reverie so deep he could never recall all that it had
+contained.</p>
+
+<p>A horse hitched to one of the verandah posts, against
+which a man in uniform was leaning, brought him
+back to the world of reality with a shock. The hawk-like
+eyes gleamed as suspicion flashed through his
+brain. Had Wallace, despite his refusal, sent the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>
+troopers after him? The whip-lash fell viciously
+across the horse's back and the old rackety buggy
+rattled as Dudgeon finished his drive at a canter.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you want?" he cried, as he pulled
+up opposite his door.</p>
+
+<p>Durham glanced from the stern, hard face of the
+man to the pile of money-bags clustered round his
+feet on the floor of the buggy, and over which he
+had not even taken the trouble to throw a rug.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a sub-inspector of police&mdash;Durham is my
+name&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Durham?" the old man exclaimed. "Are you
+the man who rode down Parker, the cattle thief,
+when he was making off with a mob of imported
+prize stock?"</p>
+
+<p>"I arrested Parker&mdash;a couple of years ago."</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon leant forward and held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm proud to meet you, my lad. That mob of
+cattle belonged to me. You saved me a few thousands
+over that job of yours. I'm much obliged to you. I
+hoped to meet you some day so as to thank
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't remember your name in the case,"
+Durham said.</p>
+
+<p>"No, my lad, there was no need for me to appear.
+It was a Government affair to prosecute Parker.
+Why should I pay money away for the Government?
+Look at the anxiety and loss of time I had to put up
+with. Nobody offered to make that good."</p>
+
+<p>"But you got your cattle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they <i>were</i> mine&mdash;I paid for them. But
+that's all right. I'm much obliged to you for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+trouble you took to catch the scoundrel&mdash;ten years
+I think he got? He ought to have been hanged.
+I'd have hanged him if I had been the judge. What
+are you after now? After more cattle-stealers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not this time. I'm on my way to Waroona;
+but I've been travelling all day and my horse is a bit
+knocked up. Can I turn him into one of your
+paddocks for the night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Grass is worth money these times," the old man
+said slowly. "I suppose the Government will pay
+me for the use of the paddock, won't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can demand it, of course, if you care to,"
+Durham replied.</p>
+
+<p>"And where are you going to camp? You'll want
+a feed, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"I reckoned I could get one here."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you can get one here all right. There's no
+luxury about the place. I'm a poor man and just
+carry enough stores to keep me going. There's only
+me about the place now, so you'll have to do your
+own cooking; but you'll find it as comfortable
+as any bush pub, and cheaper, for there's no drink
+to be had, and half a crown for your supper and bed
+won't hurt you. You can take it or leave it&mdash;I'm
+not particular."</p>
+
+<p>He climbed out of the buggy and began unharnessing
+the horse.</p>
+
+<p>"You have heard of the robbery at the bank, I
+suppose, Mr. Dudgeon?" Durham asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Heard of what?"</p>
+
+<p>He stood up with his hand still on the buckle he
+was unfastening.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The robbery at the bank. I thought everyone
+in the district had heard of it."</p>
+
+<p>The old man remained without moving, his eyes
+fixed on Durham.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't heard a word. What's the yarn?"</p>
+
+<p>"The bank was robbed yesterday&mdash;all the money
+taken, including the gold which had been sent up to
+pay you for Waroona Downs. Soon after the robbery,
+Eustace, the manager, disappeared."</p>
+
+<p>"Then who's Wallace?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is one of the officials from the head office."</p>
+
+<p>"But he had the money ready to pay me. How
+could that be if&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He arrived with it to-day&mdash;he was expected
+about noon, I believe."</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon let go the buckle and took two slow,
+deliberate steps nearer Durham.</p>
+
+<p>"Brought it with him?" he exclaimed. "And
+only arrived about noon?"</p>
+
+<p>"About that, I believe," Durham replied.</p>
+
+<p>The old man snatched the hat from his head and
+flung it on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Sold! by God! Sold!" he yelled. "If I'd
+been there before that chap arrived, I'd have beaten
+them&mdash;they couldn't have paid, and I'd have cried
+off the deal. Why didn't you come and tell me
+earlier? What's the good of your coming here
+now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think it rather risky to drive through
+the bush with a pile of money like that in your buggy
+while those bank robbers are still at liberty?"
+Durham said quietly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon stood back and looked at him quizzically.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you're on it too, are you? That's your
+game, is it? Well, see here, my lad, anyone who can
+take this money without my knowing it is welcome
+to it. Do you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>He resumed his work of unharnessing the horse,
+leading it away, as soon as it was clear of the shafts,
+to a lean-to shed at the side of the hut where he
+hung up the harness and turned the horse free.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, how about that half-crown? Are you
+going to stay, or aren't you? Government won't
+pay that, you know. You find your own tucker, my
+lad."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish to stay here to-night," Durham answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Then chuck over the cash."</p>
+
+<p>It was obvious that if Durham wished to stay, he
+would have to pay, so without further demur he
+passed over the amount Dudgeon demanded for his
+supper and bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we start fair," the old man said, as he put
+the money in his pocket. "I'm under no obligation
+to you and you're under no obligation to me. That
+is what I call trading square."</p>
+
+<p>He unlocked the door and flung it open.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll find some cold meat and bread on the
+shelf, and there's tea in the canister over the fire-place.
+You'll have to fetch what water you want
+from the tank."</p>
+
+<p>As Durham entered the hut, Dudgeon went to the
+buggy and lifted one of the bags of gold in his arms,
+carrying it inside.</p>
+
+<p>The hut was a small and unpretentious structure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>
+The door opened directly into the living-room, to
+which there was only one small window looking
+out on the verandah. A second door led into a small
+kitchen, off which opened another small room used by
+Dudgeon for sleeping.</p>
+
+<p>With the bag of gold in his arms he stood in the
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to sleep on that stretcher over there,"
+he said, nodding to a rough framework of untrimmed
+saplings with a length of coarse canvas fastened
+across. "You won't be cold. Keep a good fire on.
+You'll find an axe in the harness shed if you want to
+get any wood."</p>
+
+<p>He passed on through the second door and Durham
+set about lighting the fire. As he did so, Dudgeon
+made journeys to and fro, coming from the back of
+the hut empty-handed and returning from the buggy
+with a bag of gold in his arms until he had carried all
+the twenty-five thousand pounds in. By that time
+the fire was alight, and Durham went out to turn his
+horse loose. He returned by way of the harness shed,
+took the axe and went to the back of the hut to cut
+some wood for the night. As he turned the corner,
+he saw old Dudgeon with a spade in his hand, entering
+the hut by the back door.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's good," the old man exclaimed, when
+Durham entered the living-room with an armful of
+cut wood. "That'll last the night through. I see
+you made the tea, so I had mine as I was wanting
+a feed. You'll have to boil some more water&mdash;there
+was only enough for one in the first lot you
+made."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I made that tea for myself, Mr. Dudgeon,"
+Durham exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, make some more. There's plenty of water
+in the tank&mdash;I won't charge you any more for using
+the can twice, though every time it's put on the fire
+means so much less life for it."</p>
+
+<p>Durham swung round in heat.</p>
+
+<p>"You're the meanest man on the face of the
+earth," he cried.</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon looked at him with his shaggy brows
+almost obscuring the cold, hawk-like eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"If you hadn't paid me for your grub and a
+camp, I'd turn you out of the place," he snarled.
+"You've no more gratitude for kindness than a black
+fellow."</p>
+
+<p>Durham bit back the angry retort which rose to
+his lips. Little wonder the bank people were so
+indifferent to the old man's safety; little wonder no
+one had troubled to bring him news of the incident
+which formed the main item of gossip from end to
+end of the district. If this was the way he treated a
+visitor who paid, and paid dearly, for his board and
+bed, how, Durham asked himself, would he treat an
+ordinary guest?</p>
+
+<p>But he held his peace, refilled the can with water
+and set it to boil, Dudgeon sitting in the one chair
+the room contained, as he stolidly cut a pipeful of
+tobacco.</p>
+
+<p>When the water boiled, Durham made a second
+brew of tea and took his seat on a stool which was by
+the table. He helped himself to bread and meat and
+commenced his meal, but never a word did Dudgeon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>
+speak. He sat placidly smoking, his eyes on the
+smouldering embers of the fire, without as much as a
+glance in the direction of his visitor.</p>
+
+<p>The sun went down and the interior of the hut
+grew gloomy.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't you a lamp?" Durham asked. "I
+cannot see what I am eating."</p>
+
+<p>"Make the fire up&mdash;that's good enough for me,"
+Dudgeon replied without raising his head.</p>
+
+<p>On the shelf over the fire-place Durham had
+noticed a kerosene lamp, a cheap, rickety article with
+a clear-glass bowl half-full of oil. He rose from
+the stool, reached for the lamp, put it on the table
+and lit it.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, that oil costs money," Dudgeon snarled as
+he looked round. "Half a crown won't cover
+luxuries&mdash;you'll pass over another bob if you're going
+to waste my oil."</p>
+
+<p>Durham resumed his seat without heeding.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you hear?" Dudgeon exclaimed. "If you
+ain't going to pay, you ain't going&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stood up as he spoke, stood up and took a step
+towards the table with one hand outstretched to lift
+away the lamp.</p>
+
+<p>Durham, looking round as he moved, saw his
+eyes suddenly open wide and stare fixedly at the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>At the same moment a voice rang through the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Hands up, or you're dead men!"</p>
+
+<p>Springing to his feet Durham faced towards the
+door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Standing in it were two figures, one the yellow-bearded
+man he had seen at Waroona Downs, the
+other a man of slighter build whose face was entirely
+concealed by a handkerchief hanging from under his
+hat and gathered in at the throat, with two holes
+burned for the eyes. Each man held a revolver, the
+masked man covering Durham, the bearded man
+covering Dudgeon.</p>
+
+<p>"Hands up!"</p>
+
+<p>There was the sharp ring in the voice which
+betokens the strain of a deadly determination. The
+eyes which glanced along the sights of the levelled
+weapon, aimed direct at Durham's head, were
+merciless and hard. Unless they were the last words
+he was ever to hear, Durham realised there was only
+one course open. He raised his hands above his head.
+A side glance showed him Dudgeon standing with his
+arms up.</p>
+
+<p>"Turn your back, and put your hands behind you,"
+he heard the bearded man say, and Dudgeon shuffled
+round.</p>
+
+<p>A double click followed, a familiar sound to
+Durham&mdash;the click of snapping handcuffs.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mr. Detective, it's your turn," he heard the
+man say. "Put your hands behind you."</p>
+
+<p>The eyes behind the mask wandered for an instant
+from their aim to glance at the shackled Dudgeon.</p>
+
+<p>On that instant Durham acted.</p>
+
+<p>Straight at the face of the man beside him he hit,
+and as his clenched fist came in contact with the
+bearded face, he ducked.</p>
+
+<p>A shrill cry came from the man he had struck,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>
+almost simultaneously with the report of a revolver-shot.</p>
+
+<p>Durham heard a scream of pain from Dudgeon, but
+before he could know more there was a crashing blow
+on his head, and he fell senseless to the floor.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>"FOOLED"</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the dining-room of the bank Wallace, Harding,
+and Mrs. Eustace sat.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no alternative," Wallace said. "My
+instructions are peremptory on the subject. If, after
+investigation, I considered the suspicion against
+your husband as well founded, I was to request you
+to leave the bank premises without delay."</p>
+
+<p>"You believe my husband stole that money?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe your husband stole that money, Mrs.
+Eustace."</p>
+
+<p>"You may live to change your opinion, Mr.
+Wallace. My husband is as innocent as I am. He
+has acted precipitately, I admit, and more than
+foolishly in going away as he has done; but that
+does not prove him guilty."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I cannot discuss the question with
+you," Wallace replied evenly. "I can only carry
+out my instructions. I have told you what they are,
+and what my opinion is. I am sorry to inconvenience
+you, but I have no alternative."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you wish me to leave at once?"</p>
+
+<p>"Scarcely to-night; but I must ask you to get
+away as soon as you can."</p>
+
+<p>For a space there was silence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I would like to speak to Mr. Harding, if you don't
+mind," she said presently.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will leave you, for I have been steadily
+travelling all last night and to-day till I arrived here,
+and shall be glad to get to bed," Wallace answered.
+"Any arrangement you can make, Harding, to
+assist Mrs. Eustace, I shall be pleased to hear about.
+You will quite understand, Mrs. Eustace, that in
+asking you to vacate the premises the bank is merely
+actuated by ordinary considerations and is in no
+way acting vindictively or harshly."</p>
+
+<p>She inclined her head slightly in response, but
+otherwise made no sign as Wallace left the room.</p>
+
+<p>For some time after he had gone she remained
+silent, Harding waiting for her to speak. Raising her
+head, she looked him steadily in the face.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I ought to call you Mr. Harding now,"
+she began, "but I can't, Fred, I can't."</p>
+
+<p>"As you wish," he said.</p>
+
+<p>There came another silence, the woman unable
+to trust herself to continue, the man fearing to
+begin.</p>
+
+<p>"How life mocks one," she said, half to herself.
+"Surely it is punishment enough that I should have
+to turn to you in my distress, humiliating enough
+even to satisfy your desire for retribution. I do
+not blame you, Fred. I deserve it all. I treated you
+vilely."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there any necessity to refer to that now?" he
+asked. "I told you the curtain had been rung down
+for ever upon that. I have no wish either to punish
+or humiliate you. I don't think that I have given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>
+you reason to believe that I do. If you think there
+has been any reason, I can only say you are mistaken."</p>
+
+<p>She started impulsively to her feet and stood in
+front of him, holding her hands to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred, I must say it. I cannot bear this longer.
+It may make you hate me&mdash;detest and despise me,
+but I must say it. If you had only shown resentment
+or anger or spite for the way in which I treated you,
+it would not have been so hard to bear. Oh, don't
+you see? Don't you understand? Oh, isn't there
+one scrap of pity left in you for me? I was trapped
+into marriage, Fred. I never loved him, never,
+never! He&mdash;oh, have some pity on me, Fred, some
+pity."</p>
+
+<p>She sank into a chair and buried her face on her
+arms on the table as she gave way to a storm of
+weeping.</p>
+
+<p>To the man it was agony to see her, anguish to
+hear her, more bitter after the confession she had
+made and while the grip of suspicion still held him.
+Scarcely knowing what he did, he stepped to her side
+and laid his hand gently upon her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I have pity, more than pity for you, Jess," he
+whispered. "Don't think&mdash;&mdash;" He caught his
+breath to check the quiver in his voice, and so
+remembered. "I beg your pardon&mdash;Mrs. Eustace I
+should have said," he added as he drew back.</p>
+
+<p>With hands close clenched behind him he stood.
+The love he fancied he had stifled had burst through
+the restraint he had placed upon it; the injury she
+had inflicted upon him, the wrong she had done, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>
+cause for resentment she had given him were alike
+forgotten. The lingering suspicion alone prevented
+him from taking her in his arms to soothe and
+comfort her in her distress. Fighting against himself
+he stood silent, and the woman, aching for someone
+on whom to lean, shivered.</p>
+
+<p>"What am I to do?" she moaned. "What am I
+to do?"</p>
+
+<p>He, thinking only of her, took the words to refer
+to her present difficulty.</p>
+
+<p>"I think it would be better if you went away," he
+said gently. "I do not think it will be easier for
+you to bear if you are here when&mdash;should anything
+else come to light."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean if&mdash;if he is arrested?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>She lifted up her head and turned a tear-stained
+face towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"Have they found him? Have they? Is that
+why&mdash;why I am asked to leave the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mrs. Eustace. A new manager will be
+appointed, and the house is wanted for him."</p>
+
+<p>"But I will not leave Waroona," she exclaimed,
+as she stood up. "I dare not leave it&mdash;till I know.
+If he&mdash;suppose he did do it&mdash;and wants to find me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should advise you to go right away," Harding
+said, still speaking gently. "You will do no good
+by remaining here where everybody knows what has
+happened, whereas if you go away you will be able
+to put all the worry of it away from you."</p>
+
+<p>"I will not go."</p>
+
+<p>She spoke with a fierce emphasis, the more pro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>nounced
+because she felt that the course he suggested
+was the one she ought to follow, and resenting it
+because, by following it, she would pass out of his
+sight, and perchance out of his life for all time.</p>
+
+<p>"I can only advise you," he said. "The new
+manager may be here in a day or two, and the bank
+will&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm not going to stay in this house," she
+interrupted. "I will be out of here to-morrow;
+but I will not leave Waroona."</p>
+
+<p>"You will make a mistake if you do not, I think,
+but it is for you to decide."</p>
+
+<p>She sat down again, clasping and unclasping her
+hands in her lap.</p>
+
+<p>"If I go&mdash;will you&mdash;will you write to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I cannot do that," he answered at once.</p>
+
+<p>"May I&mdash;write to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should be sorry if you did."</p>
+
+<p>She raised her eyes and again looked at him
+steadily in silence, looked until he turned away.</p>
+
+<p>"How hard you make it, how hard!" she said at
+length. "How am I to know what is happening if I
+go away? I am sure you are expecting his arrest.
+Why did those two troopers go off so mysteriously
+this afternoon? They did not go to the railway.
+I watched them from upstairs. They rode the other
+way."</p>
+
+<p>He did not reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you answer me this one question? Do you
+believe I know he is the thief?"</p>
+
+<p>"If there is anything that I can do to help or assist
+you in your present difficulty, Mrs. Eustace, I shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
+be only too pleased to do it. But I cannot discuss the
+robbery with you."</p>
+
+<p>For the first time there was a tone of sternness in his
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I take it that you do," she said. "I only
+want to tell you this. I still do not believe he did
+it. I know he is&mdash;he is not as you are. I have tried
+to shield this from you. I did not want you to know&mdash;then.
+Now I have told you. I did not know he
+was going to run away. I did not know he had gone
+until Brennan came to arrest him. But I can understand
+why he went. He knew the bank would
+suspect him at once, knew that there was a black
+record against him. It was cowardly of him, cowardly
+to leave me here alone. But he has gone, and I do
+not think I shall ever hear from him or see him
+again. That is why I want to remain here. If I
+go away, I may never know; if I am here, I shall be
+able to find out. But don't think that I know
+either that he intended to run away or where he has
+gone. At least have that much faith in me."</p>
+
+<p>"I did think so," he said quickly. "Now I do
+not."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," she said softly. "I know how
+difficult it is for you to say even that. You cannot
+discuss the matter, but&mdash;don't think harder of me,
+Fred, than you can help."</p>
+
+<p>She turned quickly and hurried from the room.
+She had scarcely closed the door when she reopened
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"Constable Brennan is asking for you," she said.
+"Will you go in?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She pushed the door wide open and Brennan came
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mr. Wallace here?" he asked, as soon as he
+had seen the door close.</p>
+
+<p>"He has gone to bed&mdash;he is rather tired out after
+his journey. Is it anything particular?"</p>
+
+<p>"One of the troopers has just ridden back. When
+they reached Taloona they found the place on fire.
+The sub-inspector was outside with his head smashed,
+and Mr. Dudgeon, with a bullet through him and his
+hands handcuffed behind his back, lying on the floor
+of the hut. They saw the glare of the fire through
+the trees and only galloped up just in time to get the
+old man out. He's in a bad way, Conlon said, and
+so is the sub-inspector."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait till I tell Mr. Wallace," Harding exclaimed,
+as he rushed from the room.</p>
+
+<p>Outside in the passage, Mrs. Eustace faced him.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred, what is it? I heard&mdash;who is killed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody, I hope. I'll be back in a moment."</p>
+
+<p>He dashed up to Wallace's room and hammered
+at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, what's the matter now?" Wallace cried,
+as he answered the knock.</p>
+
+<p>"Come down to the dining-room. Brennan is
+there. One of the troopers has come back. Taloona
+is burnt and both Dudgeon and Durham injured."</p>
+
+<p>When they reached the dining-room they found
+Mrs. Eustace with Brennan.</p>
+
+<p>"I can be of use. I know how to nurse. I've
+learned how to give first aid. Let me go out and
+attend to them till the doctor comes. He is twenty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>
+miles away, and they may bleed to death before he
+can get there. I've got some bandages. I'll fetch
+them," Mrs. Eustace was saying.</p>
+
+<p>She turned as Wallace and Harding entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell them, Brennan, while I get the things," she
+added as she ran out and upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>"It's wicked to think of her wasted on a scoundrel
+like that," Brennan exclaimed. "You heard what
+she said, sir? I know she's the only one in the
+township who understands what to do till the doctor
+comes. We've sent a man off for him, and they're
+getting a party together to go out and fetch the
+sub-inspector and the old man in. She's offered to
+go too. It may save their lives, for, from what
+Conlon said, they're badly hurt, both of them."</p>
+
+<p>"Has the gold gone?" Wallace asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I reckon so, though there's no saying until we
+hear what has happened. But it looks like a bad
+case of sticking the place up and trying to murder the
+inmates. Hullo, there's Mr. Gale calling. He's
+got his buggy. There's a seat to spare if either of
+you like to go."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd be of more use than I should, Harding,"
+Wallace said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'll go," the younger man replied.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace came running into the room, her
+arms full of bottles and bandages.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't stopped to sort them out&mdash;I'll take all
+I've got," she exclaimed breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"I will put them in the buggy while you get a
+cloak. I am coming with you," Harding said, as he
+took the articles from her and carried them out to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>
+Gale's buggy, which was drawn up outside the
+bank.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better bring them here; it's quieter
+and more roomy than any other place in the town,"
+Wallace said to Brennan when they were alone.</p>
+
+<p>"If they can stand the journey," Brennan said
+under his breath. "I've told Conlon to ride back
+and let us know; I'll have to stay here."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll tell Harding."</p>
+
+<p>He reached the front door as Harding was returning,
+after having packed the things Mrs. Eustace had given
+him in the buggy. At the same moment Mrs. Eustace
+tripped down the stairs and ran across the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better bring them here," he began
+when she turned quickly towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring them here? Mr. Wallace, do you want to
+kill them? If they are badly injured it would be
+fatal to move them this distance. I will send word
+back at once, but if the doctor comes before you hear,
+send him on. Now, I'm ready."</p>
+
+<p>She went out with Harding at her side.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad to have you with me," she said
+softly. "It is good of you to come."</p>
+
+<p>He helped her into the buggy without speaking,
+though the clinging touch of her hand thrilled him.
+He had known her as a light-hearted girl, full of
+frolicsome impulses and mischievous tricks, and had
+loved her with a passion that kept her ever before
+him. He had seen her when that love-lit image had
+been veiled by the gloom of seeming disillusion.
+He had seen her striving to sacrifice herself in order to
+shield the man who had blighted her life, and he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>
+seen her as a man loves best to see the woman he
+reveres, throw aside the conventional reserve for
+him to learn the innermost secret of her heart.
+But never had he seen her as she appeared to him
+at that moment and later, when they arrived at the
+scene of the outrage, cool, clear-headed, capable,
+thinking only of the sufferings of others, cheering
+them with tactful sympathy, tending them with
+gentle care, the while her own soul was down-weighted
+with care and sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout the ten-mile drive little was said,
+each one of the three instinctively refraining from all
+reference to the subject which was uppermost in
+their minds, and failing to maintain even a desultory
+conversation on more commonplace topics. Gale
+drove his pair at a hand gallop all the way till the
+road swerved from the straight and through the dim
+mystery of the starlit bush an angry red glow showed
+among the trees.</p>
+
+<p>The last of the homestead, now an irregular heap
+of smouldering ashes over which stray lambent flames
+flickered and danced, served to shed sufficient light
+to show where two still figures lay under the shelter of
+Dudgeon's rackety old buggy, thrown over on its
+side. The trooper's horse, tethered to a tree, pawed
+the ground impatiently as it champed its bit, while
+its master, with a carbine on his arm, paced slowly
+to and fro. As the galloping pair swung into sight
+he faced round sharply and brought his carbine
+to the ready, till he recognised Harding.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you the doctor? You're badly wanted," he
+exclaimed as Gale reined up beside him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Quick. Help me out," Mrs. Eustace said as
+Harding leaped to the ground. She ran lightly over
+to the two figures. Through the rough bandage the
+troopers had tied round Durham's head a red stain
+was spreading. Dudgeon lay with glittering eyes
+staring vacantly. His right leg was bandaged, but
+more than a stain showed upon it.</p>
+
+<p>She knelt down beside the old man, and as with
+deft, quick fingers she untied the bandage, she looked
+up at Harding.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring me that packet of cotton-wool, the little
+leather case, all the bandages, and the bottle with the
+red label, at once. Tell the trooper to fetch the
+others."</p>
+
+<p>By the time he returned she had the handkerchief
+the trooper had bound round the old man's leg
+loosened.</p>
+
+<p>"Open the case and give me the scissors," she said
+without a trace of excitement or nervousness in her
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>She slipped a rent in the trouser and held the
+edges back, revealing a punctured wound out of
+which a red stream gushed. In a moment she had a
+wad of cotton-wool rolled and moistened it from the
+bottle with the red label, placing it with a firm light
+touch on the wound.</p>
+
+<p>"While I hold this, cut the trouser leg right
+down," she said, and Harding, his own nerves
+steadied by the calmness of hers, did as she
+bid.</p>
+
+<p>The trooper came over with the rest of the articles,
+and while she watched what Harding was doing she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>
+told him, quietly, how to prepare a lotion and bring
+it to her.</p>
+
+<p>Gale came over as soon as he had secured his
+horses.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you go down to the men's huts and see if
+there is a bunk where we can put him?" she said,
+looking quickly at Gale.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you think of that?" Gale exclaimed
+as he glanced at the trooper. "You ought to have
+taken them there at once."</p>
+
+<p>"You had better go too," she added to the trooper.
+"Bring something back with you, a door or a table
+or anything that will do to carry him on."</p>
+
+<p>Left alone with Harding, she never ceased until
+she had the wound stanched, cleansed, and properly
+bound up.</p>
+
+<p>"There is brandy in that flask, Fred. Mix about a
+tablespoonful in three times as much water."</p>
+
+<p>He brought her the stuff in a pannikin, believing it
+was for herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Raise his head gently," she said, and slowly
+poured the mixture between the old man's nerveless
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>Without a pause she turned to Durham and had
+the ugly wound on his scalp laid bare. Snipping the
+hair away from it, she lightly touched the bruised
+skin surrounding the jagged cut.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid the skull is fractured&mdash;I hope the
+doctor will soon be here," she whispered, as she
+busied herself with the cotton-wool and red-labelled
+bottle.</p>
+
+<p>By the time she had Durham's head bandaged,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>
+Gale and the trooper returned, carrying the door
+from one of the huts.</p>
+
+<p>"There are two huts with a single bunk in each,
+and one with four," Gale said.</p>
+
+<p>"Use the two with the single bunks," she said.
+"When are the others coming from the township?"</p>
+
+<p>"They're coming along the road now," the trooper
+answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Run and see if they have any blankets with them.
+If not, send someone back at once for some."</p>
+
+<p>But there was more than blankets in the buggy
+that came up at breakneck speed. By the veriest
+chance the doctor had been within a mile or so of
+Waroona and had come away at once, bringing
+with him such articles as he knew would be wanted.
+He hastened over to the two wounded men just as
+Dudgeon gave utterance to the first sound he had
+made since the troopers had dragged him out of the
+burning homestead.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor bent over him, rapidly examining the
+bandage round the leg. He stood up and turned to
+Durham.</p>
+
+<p>"Who put on those bandages?" he asked sharply,
+as he looked up.</p>
+
+<p>"I did, doctor. I plugged the bullet-hole with an
+iodoform wad and stopped the bleeding. I put a
+pad on Mr. Durham's wound, but I fancy his skull
+is injured."</p>
+
+<p>"Where were you going to send them?"</p>
+
+<p>"There are two single-bunk huts at the men's
+quarters. I was going to have them taken there
+on that door until you came."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We will take them there at once."</p>
+
+<p>Under his directions the two were lifted and carried
+away to the huts and made as comfortable as was
+possible in the rough timber bunks. With Mrs.
+Eustace and Harding to assist him, he found and
+removed the bullet from the old man's leg and
+quickly operated on Durham.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what they would say in some of the
+swagger hospitals, if they were asked to trepan a
+man's skull under these conditions," he said as the
+operation was finished. "But he'll pull through, and
+thank you, as the old man will when he knows, for
+saving his life. Aren't you Mrs. Eustace?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"I hardly had time to notice who you were before.
+You're a brave woman. For your sake I hope your
+husband gets away."</p>
+
+<p>The blood surged to her face, and then left it pallid.
+The shadow of her sorrow had been forgotten during
+the strenuous moments she had gone through; the
+tactless remark brought it back upon her with cruel
+emphasis. She turned aside and slipped through
+the door at the back of the hut while the doctor,
+oblivious to his blunder, went out at the other.</p>
+
+<p>Harding was about to follow her, when one of the
+troopers appeared at the door through which the
+doctor had gone. He held a letter in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I found this where the lady knelt when she tied
+up the sub-inspector's head&mdash;I fancy it's either hers
+or yours."</p>
+
+<p>On the flap of the envelope Harding saw the bank's
+impress.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It probably is hers," he answered as he took it.
+"I will give it to her at once."</p>
+
+<p>There was no sign of her as he passed out of the
+little door at the back of the hut and, believing she
+had gone round to the other, he turned to go back
+when, in a limp and dishevelled heap, he saw her
+lying on the ground against the wall of the hut.</p>
+
+<p>Her upturned face was white and drawn as he
+stooped over her.</p>
+
+<p>"Jess!" he whispered. "Jess! Are you ill?"</p>
+
+<p>She made no response, and he placed his arms
+gently round her and lifted her till she lay in his
+clasp, her head drooped on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>The movement revived her sufficiently for her to
+know what was happening.</p>
+
+<p>A long-drawn sigh escaped her lips and she essayed
+to stand alone.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Jess, no. Lean on me. You must get back
+home and rest. You have overdone it," he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred! You!"</p>
+
+<p>The arms that had hung lifeless wreathed round
+his neck, the head that had dropped on his shoulder
+nestled close and the white face upturned.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, take me away, Fred, take me away from
+this horror&mdash;anywhere, anywhere, so that I may be
+with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, Jess, hush. You must not talk like that,"
+he whispered, the strength of the grip with which
+he held her and the soft tremor of his voice giving her
+the lie to his words.</p>
+
+<p>"Darling, I must," she answered. "Give me
+freedom from the misery that man has brought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>
+into my life. Oh, you do not know what it has been
+and is still. You heard what the doctor said."</p>
+
+<p>She shuddered as she recalled the words.</p>
+
+<p>"The tactless fool," he muttered, resentment
+rising against the man who had not hesitated to
+add another twelve hours' work to an already arduous
+day when the call of suffering reached him.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he only said what others think. I know,
+Fred. I can feel it. Mr. Gale was the same. They
+all are."</p>
+
+<p>"You must not think that&mdash;you must not," he
+said. "And you must not stay in Waroona. You
+must go away."</p>
+
+<p>Her arms held tighter.</p>
+
+<p>"I will never go, never, while you remain. Don't
+despise me, Fred, don't think ill of me. I know what
+I am saying. I am on the edge of a precipice. If I
+go over, I go down, down, down, an outcast, and a&mdash;a&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't," he whispered hoarsely. "Don't talk
+like that."</p>
+
+<p>"Who would care?" she added bitterly, "even
+if I did?"</p>
+
+<p>It was no longer merely support that his encircling
+arms gave her as they strained her to him.</p>
+
+<p>"It would break my heart," he whispered simply.
+"I am one who would care."</p>
+
+<p>Unconsciously he bent his head, unconsciously
+she raised hers, until their lips met, and in one passionate
+embrace the intervening years since they
+had been heart to heart before passed as a dream,
+and only did they know that despite all the barriers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>
+which had been raised between them they were bound
+by a tie beyond the reach of custom, circumstance, or
+force.</p>
+
+<p>With that knowledge uplifting and upholding them,
+they drew apart.</p>
+
+<p>"You must go and rest now, Jess. You have
+need of all your strength to face what lies before
+you," he said gently.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind what it is&mdash;now," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will go and ask Gale to drive you back.
+I will give you all the news when I return in the
+morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you staying?" Gale exclaimed directly he
+saw him. "I've harnessed up, so if you and Mrs.
+Eustace&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm staying, but she will come back with you&mdash;the
+experience has been rather trying for her."</p>
+
+<p>"Trying?" Gale exclaimed. "She's the noblest
+woman I've ever met. I don't care what's the truth
+about the bank affair, but there's not a man in
+Waroona who won't reverence that woman when he
+hears what she has done to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell her you are ready," Harding answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is she? Down at the huts? I'll drive
+down for her."</p>
+
+<p>She was standing talking to the doctor when
+Harding returned.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm more anxious about the old man," the doctor
+was saying as Harding came up. "He'll want very
+careful nursing, so if you could undertake it, you'll
+lift a weight off my shoulders."</p>
+
+<p>"I will be ready to come out to-morrow if you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>
+want me," she answered. "Send word by Mr.
+Harding when he comes in&mdash;he is going to stay here
+to-night. You will bring me word, won't you?" she
+added, turning to Harding. "Is Mr. Gale driving
+back?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is coming now to pick you up&mdash;here he is,"
+Harding replied as Gale's buggy and pair swung
+into sight.</p>
+
+<p>He helped her in and wrapped a rug round her.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be late in the morning&mdash;I shall be anxious
+to hear if the doctor wants me," she said as Gale
+turned his horses and drove off.</p>
+
+<p>"She's a splendid woman that," the doctor said
+as he stood looking after the buggy disappearing
+in the dusk. "Pity she's tied to such a rat as that
+chap Eustace. I suppose you know him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am in the bank," Harding answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, are you? Then perhaps I've put my foot
+in it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you known him long?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace? No, only since I've been in the
+branch&mdash;about three weeks."</p>
+
+<p>"I should have judged you had known her for
+years."</p>
+
+<p>"I have, but I have only known her husband since
+I have been here."</p>
+
+<p>"Knew her before she was married?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is so."</p>
+
+<p>"Then tell me, why did she want to marry that
+rat? I've only seen him once, but that was more
+than enough. Smoke! Women are regular conun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>drums.
+There's that one, as true and big-hearted a
+creature as ever breathed&mdash;look at the pluck she
+showed to-night&mdash;and yet she goes and throws herself
+away on a miserable crawler who can't even
+respect the trust his employers placed in him. What
+does it mean to her? Just think of it&mdash;the wife of
+a common thief, worse than a common thief to my
+mind. What'll become of her? He'll be caught
+and sent to gaol for years. What's she going to do
+then? It's a pity someone doesn't shoot him&mdash;it
+would save her from degradation."</p>
+
+<p>The buggy had vanished in the dusk. He turned
+to his companion. The dim light from the hut fell
+full on Harding's face. The doctor whistled.</p>
+
+<p>"Hope I haven't said too much, old chap. I forgot.
+If you've known her for years&mdash;well, you know what
+I mean, don't you? I must get in to my patient.
+You'll look after the old man? I've given him a
+draught that'll keep him asleep. But call me if you
+want me."</p>
+
+<p>He went into the next hut where Durham lay.
+Harding stood where he left him, staring away into
+the night, in the direction the buggy had gone. The
+click-clock of the trotting horses came in a gradually
+diminishing clearness, beating time to the refrain
+which was running in his mind, the refrain of the
+doctor's words.</p>
+
+<p>If Eustace were captured there was little doubt
+what the sequence would be. A long sentence and
+his wife branded with the stain of his guilt. Better
+if he were dead&mdash;better if he were killed, rather than
+that destiny should overtake her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Harding's jaw set firm as his teeth gritted.</p>
+
+<p>The memory of her white, drawn face as he saw her
+lying on the ground outside the hut; the memory
+of her desolate wail for him to take her away from
+the horror of her surroundings; the memory of
+her patient care of the two injured men, injured,
+perhaps, by the "rat" who had ruined her life and
+his; the memory of her as he had first known her,
+jostled one another in his brain.</p>
+
+<p>Better, a thousand times better, if Eustace were
+dead.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor, looking out of the next hut, saw him
+still standing staring into the night.</p>
+
+<p>"How's the old man? Restless?" he asked as
+he came over.</p>
+
+<p>The voice brought Harding back from the clouds&mdash;the
+thunder-clouds, towards which he was drifting.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm just going in," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor followed him to the door. Dudgeon
+lay breathing peacefully in a deep sleep.</p>
+
+<p>"You can roll up in that blanket and make yourself
+as comfortable as possible&mdash;I don't think he'll awaken
+till the morning," the doctor said in a low tone when
+he had crossed to the bunk where Dudgeon lay and
+looked at him. "I must get back to my man."</p>
+
+<p>He went out of the hut without waiting for a reply
+and Harding made no attempt to follow him, but
+spread the blanket on the floor and lay down upon it.</p>
+
+<p>Until that moment he had entirely forgotten the
+letter the trooper had given him. As he lay back it
+suddenly recurred to him. He sat up and put his
+hand in his pocket to make sure it was still there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>
+As he did so the old man stirred, and Harding waited
+to see whether he was going to wake.</p>
+
+<p>He remained with his hand in his pocket until
+Dudgeon's breathing showed he was again soundly
+asleep. Then, momentarily forgetful of the reason
+why he was holding the letter, he drew it out, took it
+from the envelope, and opened it.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"No one saw me go, and I am now safe where they
+will never find me. Stay there till you hear from me
+again. A friend will bring you word. Ask no
+questions, but send your answer as directed. You
+must do everything as arranged, or all is lost. Whatever
+you do, don't leave till I send you word. I am
+safe till the storm blows over.&mdash;C."</p></div>
+
+<p>The writing was only too familiar, even without
+the peculiarly formed initial which was Eustace's
+particular sign.</p>
+
+<p>He sat like one paralysed, his eyes reading and rereading
+the words which changed to mockery all the
+revived faith in her. His brain grew numb. Like
+a man upon whose head an unexpected blow had
+fallen, he was only half conscious of what had
+happened. Even as he read and re-read the letter he
+failed to gather all that it meant, all that it revealed.
+The very simplicity of the situation stunned him.</p>
+
+<p>Then through the darkness of his mind there came,
+in one lurid flash, clear as a streak of lightning in the
+night, the full significance of it.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace, having made his escape, had sent the
+message to her!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The scene in her boudoir the night before; the
+vision of the horsemen coming from the range; the
+face of the man with the yellow beard at the window,
+all passed before him. While he and Brennan were
+dashing across the yard, she or Bessie had found the
+note.</p>
+
+<p>So it had come into her possession, and it must
+have been in her possession while she was talking to
+him after Wallace told her she must leave the bank;
+must have been in her possession while she drove
+with him to Taloona, and, for aught she knew, was
+in her possession when he found her lying senseless
+outside the hut.</p>
+
+<p>He sprang to his feet, crushing the damning sheet
+in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>While she clung to him, and he held her in all the
+fervour of his re-awakened love, she must have
+believed the message he had read was still in her
+keeping.</p>
+
+<p>The sordid duplicity, the rank treachery of it
+seared and scorched.</p>
+
+<p>Forgetful of the sleeping man whom he was there
+to watch, forgetful of everything save the bitterness
+of his betrayal, he paced the floor with rapid, raging
+steps.</p>
+
+<p>He had been fooled, heartlessly, callously fooled.
+The bitterest thoughts he had ever had of her were
+all too gentle in the face of this final revelation. She
+was false to her finger-tips, a syren in cunning, a
+viper in venom.</p>
+
+<p>At the door of the hut he stopped to stand staring
+out into the dark in the direction whither she had gone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The last echo of the click-clock of Gale's trotting
+horses had died away; the bush lay mysterious and
+motionless under the silent veil of night; no sound
+came to him save the heavy breathing of the wounded
+man asleep in the hut; but through his brain,
+with the deadening monotony of numbing drumbeats,
+there throbbed the mocking, taunting words,
+"Fooled! Fooled! Fooled!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>MRS. BURKE'S REBUFF</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Harding returned to the bank the next
+morning, he presented such a careworn appearance
+that Wallace was genuinely concerned.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo," he exclaimed, "you look as if you had
+had enough of acting night-nurse to wounded men.
+It has been too much for you, my lad."</p>
+
+<p>"It has been an anxious night," Harding replied.
+"At first both were fairly well, but towards morning
+old Mr. Dudgeon became very bad. You have heard
+all about the affair, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have had a visit from Mr. Gale. There was
+only one thing he could talk about. You will
+guess what that was. The heroism of Mrs.
+Eustace."</p>
+
+<p>A cloud came over Harding's face at the mention
+of her name.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a message for her from the doctor. She
+offered to return to-day if he wanted her help. He
+asked me to let her know how bad the old man had
+been, and is, and say he would be glad if she could
+go out at once. I've had no sleep all night and am
+fairly tired out. If you don't mind, I'll go and have
+a few hours' rest."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Why, of course, my lad, I'll manage the office by
+myself all right. Go and get all the sleep you can.
+You have earned it."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you let her know what the doctor said?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll send word to Mr. Gale&mdash;I've no doubt he'll
+let her know," Wallace said with a short laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"But isn't she here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Gale said the place was in darkness when
+they passed and rather than disturb me she went on to
+the hotel, where they put her up. Very considerate
+of her, I must admit. She seems to have made the
+most of her time on the drive back with Gale, for he
+knew all about her having to leave the bank premises,
+and told me he had secured a vacant cottage there is
+in the township for her. But don't waste time talking,
+my lad. You look worn out. Go and get to
+bed for a few hours. I'll see she has the doctor's
+message."</p>
+
+<p>Harding went to his room with heavy steps. He
+locked the door and sat down, took the crumpled
+letter out of his pocket and read it through
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Then, sitting on the side of the bed with the letter
+in his hand, he stared at it as he asked himself once
+more the question which had been haunting him since
+the first rush of indignation passed.</p>
+
+<p>What should he do with it?</p>
+
+<p>Had the letter come into his possession the night
+of the scene in the boudoir, he would have had no
+hesitation. But much had happened since then. He
+had learned what he believed was the truth about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>
+the Eustace marriage; he had learned that the love
+he had treasured so dearly was still his. It was the
+latter which made it so hard for him to know what
+course to follow.</p>
+
+<p>A doubt had come into his mind, a doubt which
+operated in her favour. To hand the note over to
+the police was to admit he had no faith left in her,
+and he had faith. He could not bring himself to
+regard her as being so absolutely conscienceless as
+the circumstances suggested. Rather did he lean
+towards the idea that, after all, despite the evidence
+of the facts as they stood, she was innocent. And
+on that point he wanted to be sure rather than
+sorry.</p>
+
+<p>The opinion of another would be a help to him in
+coming to the right conclusion, but to whom could
+he turn?</p>
+
+<p>He dare not consult Wallace, who was already
+prejudiced against her; Brennan was out of the
+question. There was only one other&mdash;Durham&mdash;and
+he was out of reach, and would be so for some time
+to come.</p>
+
+<p>So the matter came back to where it started,
+and Harding, urged one way by his love and
+another by his reason, ultimately adopted a middle
+course.</p>
+
+<p>He determined to confront her with the letter, and
+tear the mask of hypocrisy from her face&mdash;if one
+were there&mdash;at the first opportunity. For the present
+the letter should be placed where no one but himself
+could find it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Taking off his coat, he cut through the seam of the
+lining, placed the letter inside, stitched it to the
+lining and resewed the seam.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not condemn her unheard," he said. "She
+shall have the chance of defending herself to me
+before I denounce her. But, if this is true, then God
+help her&mdash;and me too."</p>
+
+<p>He flung himself on the bed. He was too tired
+to worry further. The irksome question was
+shelved&mdash;for the moment there was peace, and
+before that moment passed Harding was sound
+asleep.</p>
+
+<p>Before he awakened, Mrs. Eustace visited the bank,
+received the doctor's message and went on her way to
+Taloona.</p>
+
+<p>She came with Gale.</p>
+
+<p>"Has Mr. Harding returned yet?" she asked,
+before Wallace could speak. "He was to bring me
+word whether the doctor wanted me to help to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"He came in about half an hour ago, utterly worn
+out. I have sent him to bed for a few hours,"
+Wallace replied. "He left a message for you&mdash;old
+Mr. Dudgeon is very bad, and the doctor sent word
+that if you could go out at once it would be a great
+help to him."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I'll go," she exclaimed. "Mr. Gale,
+you offered to drive me if I were wanted. Will you
+go for the buggy while I get some things together to
+take with me?"</p>
+
+<p>She turned to Wallace when Gale had left the office.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you have no objection to my going
+upstairs?"</p>
+
+<p>"None whatever," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"I will get what things I want. The others can be
+taken away later to the cottage I am renting. I will
+give Mr. Gale a list, as he very kindly offered to
+see to the removal if I had to go out to Taloona
+again."</p>
+
+<p>He held the door open while she passed into the
+residence portion of the building, and closed it after
+her. He was not a lady's man, even under the best of
+circumstances; with the conviction that Eustace
+was the culprit, not only in the bank robbery,
+but also in the outrage at Taloona, he wished to
+have as little to say to her as possible. The sooner
+she was out of the place the better he would be
+pleased.</p>
+
+<p>As he returned to his work, which, at the moment,
+was a lengthy report he was preparing for despatch
+to the head office in condemnation of Eustace, she
+went through to the kitchen, where she found
+Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>"I am leaving the bank to-day, Bessie, and all my
+things are going away. I have taken Smart's cottage
+and am going to live there. Although I engaged you,
+if you think you will do better for yourself by staying
+here, don't let me prevent you."</p>
+
+<p>"Stay on here, Mrs. Eustace? What, after
+you've gone? No, ma'am, no! If you don't want
+me any longer, there may be someone else in
+Waroona who does, but if this is the only place<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
+where I can stay, I'm off to Wyalla," Bessie
+exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"I would not like them to think I took you away,
+Bessie."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not the Bank's servant; I'm yours. Shall I
+help you get the furniture ready now?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not just at once. I am going out to Taloona
+to help the doctor nurse Mr. Dudgeon. I only want
+to take enough with me for a few days. Mr. Gale
+will arrange for removing the rest, but I would like
+you to see they are all taken."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll see that they're taken, and go with them, too,
+Mrs. Eustace. I don't want to stay in a place where
+everything I do is spied on and made bad of. Let
+me come and help you now."</p>
+
+<p>By the time they had packed a small box, Gale
+drove up in front of the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take this down," Bessie exclaimed. "It's not
+heavy."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace followed her out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>At the door she stopped. On the other side of the
+landing was Harding's room. She glanced at the
+closed door.</p>
+
+<p>Stepping over to it, she tapped. There was no
+response. She turned the handle; the door was
+locked.</p>
+
+<p>She did not want to go without a word for him.
+She opened her bag to see if she had a scrap of paper
+or a card on which she could scribble a line. As she
+did so, Bessie came up the stairs to ask if there was
+anything else she could do.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, that is all, Bessie. You might tell Mr.
+Harding I have gone. He is asleep at present."</p>
+
+<p>Bessie sniffed, with her nose in the air, as she
+followed her mistress down the stairs. Tell Mr.
+Harding? Tell the man who was, in Bessie's mind,
+the person solely responsible for the indignity placed
+upon her and Mrs. Eustace of being locked in their
+own rooms by Constable Brennan! All the message
+he would ever receive through her would do him
+good, she told herself.</p>
+
+<p>In the office Wallace heard the buggy drive away
+and caught a glimpse of it as it passed the door. Mrs.
+Eustace was sitting beside Gale, looking up at him
+and smiling.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of another vehicle driving up to the door
+interrupted him. He looked up from his work as Mrs.
+Burke came into the office.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Mr. Wallace," she exclaimed,
+"I've looked in as I was passing, to inquire what is
+the latest news about the scoundrels. Have they
+got them yet? Is there any word of my
+papers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Have you not heard? Has no one&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Heard? Heard what? Heavens about us, man,
+you're not going to tell me my papers have been
+destroyed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, I'm not going to tell you that, Mrs.
+Burke. As the news is all over the place, I fancied
+you must have heard it also. I forgot you were
+away in the bush. Taloona was stuck up last
+night and burnt to the ground; old Mr. Dudgeon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>
+was shot and is lying dangerously ill, while Mr.
+Durham had his skull fractured and is at death's
+door."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Burke reeled.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my God!" she gasped.</p>
+
+<p>Before Wallace could reach her she lurched heavily
+forward and fell, striking her face against the edge of
+the counter.</p>
+
+<p>Rushing to the door leading to the house, Wallace
+called to Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>"Come quickly," he cried, "Mrs. Burke has
+fainted."</p>
+
+<p>He was raising her from the floor as Bessie
+came.</p>
+
+<p>"Help me to get her into the dining-room," he
+exclaimed. "What a silly woman! I'm afraid she
+has hurt her face rather badly. She struck it against
+the counter."</p>
+
+<p>Bessie lent a somewhat unwilling aid. She disliked
+Mrs. Burke as cordially as she disliked Wallace, but
+she helped to support the semi-conscious woman,
+and undertook to revive her as soon as they had
+placed her on the sofa.</p>
+
+<p>Wallace returned to the office, leaving the two
+together. Presently Mrs. Burke came back, pale and
+agitated, and with a pronounced discolouration on
+her face where it had come in contact with the
+counter.</p>
+
+<p>"I must apologise, Mr. Wallace," she began, as
+soon as she entered the office. "Sure it's only us
+poor weak women who know the cruel pain of an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>
+unexpected blow. You'll not believe me, but when
+I heard the terrible news, it just turned my heart to
+stone, it did. Poor Mr. Durham! A fine, brave,
+clever gentleman if ever there was one, Mr. Wallace,
+and to think of him with all his brains scattered.
+It's no wonder I fainted."</p>
+
+<p>"But I did not tell you that, Mrs. Burke. I said
+his skull was fractured, and that he is at death's
+door."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, isn't that what I was saying?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I did not say his brains were knocked out.
+As a matter of fact, they are all in his head where I
+hope they will always remain, so that he can complete
+his task of catching your friends who were so
+considerate as to carry off your papers."</p>
+
+<p>"My friends, do you call them, Mr. Wallace?
+Sure I'd teach them a new form of friendship if I had
+my hands on them for a few minutes. But tell me
+now, what's being done with those poor wounded
+creatures? The girl told me the old man had had
+his leg blown off. Well, well! He won't refuse a
+chair next time he comes to see you, I'll wager. Or
+maybe he'll have his twenty-five thousand sovereigns
+made into a special wooden leg to take the place of the
+other live one he's lost."</p>
+
+<p>"His leg was not blown off&mdash;he was shot."</p>
+
+<p>"It's all the same. He won't be able to walk about
+any more, and sure that's bad enough for any man to
+have to put up with, isn't it, Mr. Wallace? How
+would you like to have it happen to you now?
+Having to go about on a wooden stump or just sit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>
+about in the same place from morning to night and
+never a chance of stretching a leg or crossing the
+road."</p>
+
+<p>"But it's not that at all, Mrs. Burke," Wallace
+exclaimed impatiently. "What I said was&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know, I know," she interrupted. "Well
+now, don't you think it a terrible thing for them to be
+lying out there without a single woman's hand to
+soothe them in their agony? Only a doctor to look
+after them and maybe a bushman or so to boil a billy
+and make some tea between whiles. It's more than I
+can bear to think of, Mr. Wallace."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't feel faint again, do you?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, not at all, Mr. Wallace. Bessie was
+very good to me. She would be better out there
+helping to relieve those poor wounded creatures
+instead of idling away her time here, I think;
+but still, she does her best, poor thing, such as
+it is. But do you know what I thought of doing?
+As soon as I heard the news I said to myself, there
+was only one thing I could do unless I were just a
+mere bloodless image of a woman. I'm going to
+drive straight away now to Taloona and soothe the
+pain of those poor unfortunates. It's the sound of
+a woman's voice that is cheering to a lonely man
+when he's in pain, Mr. Wallace."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it?" Wallace said curtly. "I hope you are
+right, Mrs. Burke, for you see Mrs. Eustace is there
+already."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Eustace! Out at Taloona? Mr. Wallace,
+it's enough to bring down the wrath of Heaven to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>
+think of that woman&mdash;that&mdash;well, I'll not say it;
+but there's her husband robbing me of my papers
+and the bank of its money and maybe robbing and
+murdering that poor old gentleman as well, and she&mdash;she
+of all women on the face of the earth&mdash;nursing
+his victims back for him to slay a second time. Sure,
+I'd&mdash;oh, I'd&mdash;I don't know what I wouldn't do,
+Mr. Wallace, to a woman like that."</p>
+
+<p>"It will be an interesting meeting between you,"
+Wallace observed drily. "I am sorry I cannot come
+to see it."</p>
+
+<p>"But it's not the old gentleman she's after, Mr.
+Wallace. I suppose they robbed him of his
+gold?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, Mrs. Burke."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you may be sure they did. So there's no
+more to be had out of him; but what would it be
+worth to that villain of a husband of hers if Sub-Inspector
+Durham were below ground? The only
+chance I have of ever seeing my papers again, Mr.
+Wallace, is with him. I'll go and drive him out to
+Waroona Downs and nurse him myself. I'll not let
+it be said that Nora Burke forgot a friend in his hour
+of need."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid the doctor will not let him be moved.
+I suggested bringing them in here, but Mr. Gale tells
+me the doctor said it would be fatal to move either at
+present."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll stay and nurse him there. Sure it's
+that woman I'll watch. I'll go away at once."</p>
+
+<p>He did not detain her. He did not even suggest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>
+she was going on a useless journey. But he sighed
+deeply as she left the office.</p>
+
+<p>"Little wonder she is a widow," he murmured to
+himself. "I wonder how long the late Mr. Burke
+managed to survive it? I hope they keep her at
+Taloona for a month."</p>
+
+<p>But she did not reach there that day.</p>
+
+<p>On the way she met Gale returning.</p>
+
+<p>"And what's the news of the poor injured creatures?"
+she cried as she reined in.</p>
+
+<p>Gale shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"You were not thinking of going out there, were
+you?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going out to do what I can to soothe the
+suffering of the unfortunates," she answered. "Mr.
+Wallace was telling me. What a frightful thing to
+happen to them, Mr. Gale. Sure the awful news was
+too much for me to bear, and I just fell like one dead
+at the sound of it. You'll see the mark on my face.
+They tell me I fell against the counter in the bank
+and might have killed myself entirely with the
+terrible smash I came against the wretched sharp
+edge, only that I struck it with my face instead of
+the back of my head, though it's little thanks to
+the bank, seeing the way they made the clumsy
+thing."</p>
+
+<p>"It's no use your going out to Taloona," Gale
+exclaimed. "No one is allowed near the huts where
+they are. The doctor and Mrs. Eustace are the only
+persons allowed to see the patients."</p>
+
+<p>"And by what right is that woman there?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The best right of all, Mrs. Burke. Had it not
+been for her splendid courage, they would both have
+been dead long before the doctor could reach them.
+She is the only one Mr. Dudgeon will bear near
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh."</p>
+
+<p>For once the voluble Irish tongue was reduced to
+the use of a simple monosyllable, but into the word
+there was thrown as much venom as would have
+taken a hundred of the snakes St. Patrick banished
+from the island to supply.</p>
+
+<p>"So it is fortunate I met you, otherwise you would
+have had a drive for nothing," Gale added.</p>
+
+<p>"And how's the sub-inspector?"</p>
+
+<p>"The doctor tells me he is doing as well as one can
+expect."</p>
+
+<p>"I was going to see if I could not take one of them
+out to Waroona Downs&mdash;it's good nursing they'll
+want, and that they'll get if they're in a place where
+they are properly looked after."</p>
+
+<p>"They are getting that now," Gale retorted
+shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go and see for myself."</p>
+
+<p>"If you want to tire your horse, do so, but that is
+all which will happen."</p>
+
+<p>"And why am I to be shut out when that woman is
+allowed to be there, with her husband probably
+hanging about the place all the time to see who else
+there is to shoot and maim?"</p>
+
+<p>"You have no right to say that," Gale cried
+angrily. "There is only suspicion against her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>
+husband, and even if there were more, it would not
+affect her. A noble-hearted woman such as she is
+should have sympathy, not unjust accusation."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure Mr. Eustace would be pleased to know how
+well his deserted wife is getting on with all the
+admirers she has in the place traipsing after her
+wherever she goes," she retorted.</p>
+
+<p>"You cannot go on even if you wish to," Gale
+exclaimed. "One of the troopers will stop you before
+you reach the huts."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the troopers are there too, are they? It's
+well to be a miserly old skinflint to have the State
+providing troopers at the ratepayers' expense to
+watch over one. Or maybe they're also giving
+sympathy to the poor distressed lady. Well, I'll
+interrupt them."</p>
+
+<p>"You will do nothing of the kind, Mrs. Burke. I
+tell you the doctor sent to stop me from driving up
+to the huts where they are. You would do no
+good by going there; you may do a great deal of
+harm."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, indeed. And pray what is there about me
+that is likely to do harm to any man?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know Mr. Dudgeon's character. The doctor
+says he is in a most critical condition. For him to see
+you now would probably mean his death. You remember
+how bitterly he resented the sale of Waroona
+Downs to you&mdash;your presence now would only
+irritate him and then&mdash;&mdash;" he shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"My presence? And what of the presence of the
+woman whose husband&mdash;&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You must not say that," Gale exclaimed quickly.
+"It is unjust&mdash;unwomanly&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The grey eyes flashed like steel.</p>
+
+<p>"Unwomanly?" she cried. "Me unwomanly?"</p>
+
+<p>She snatched up the buggy whip and in her anger
+cut at him, but the lash fell short, striking one of the
+horses. The animal plunged at the sting and its
+companion also started.</p>
+
+<p>By the time Gale had them under control, Mrs.
+Burke was vanishing down the road in a cloud of
+dust.</p>
+
+<p>Where the track to the station branched off the
+main road one of the troopers met and stopped her.
+The man recognised her from the previous day.</p>
+
+<p>"Very sorry, Mrs. Burke," he said, "but I've been
+sent to stop anyone going near the place."</p>
+
+<p>"Why can't I go? I want to know how they
+are and whether I can't help to nurse them," she
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"They're both pretty bad, I believe," the trooper
+answered. "I don't think you could do anything
+now, because there's the doctor and Mrs. Eustace and
+my mate looking after them. But I'll tell the doctor,
+and maybe to-morrow&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Burke slowly wheeled her horse.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not come to-morrow," she said. "It is
+evident I'm not wanted. But I shall come in a few
+days and take one of them away with me to my house.
+I'm sure Mr. Durham would be much better away
+from here. Tell the doctor I say so. Who is taking
+Mr. Durham's place?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Taking up his work do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;who is looking for the man who stole my
+deeds from the bank? Why aren't you doing it,
+instead of wasting your time here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that'll be all right, Mrs. Burke. We've got a
+clue&mdash;don't you be uneasy."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be uneasy until Mr. Durham is able to look
+after it again. He is the only hope I have of ever
+seeing my papers again."</p>
+
+<p>"You're right," the trooper exclaimed. "He's
+the smartest man for the job there is. That's why
+he's lying there now&mdash;we know for certain he was on
+their track when he got here, and as soon as they saw
+who it was after them, they went for him. It wasn't
+the fault of the chap who tried to brain him that the
+sub-inspector is alive to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"He is very badly hurt?" Mrs. Burke asked.</p>
+
+<p>"The chap who hit him saw to that&mdash;I'd just like
+to have my hands on him for a few minutes, the mean
+hound. There was probably more than one, and
+while the sub-inspector was facing the others, this
+one must have crept up behind him and tried to brain
+him from the back. But we'll get him, and then he
+will know something."</p>
+
+<p>"You think you will catch them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Catch them? Of course we shall. But it's the
+chap who knocked the sub-inspector on the head we
+want mostly."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll punish him when you do catch him?"
+she asked, with a gleam in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" he exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She leaned forward.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you do," she said. "I would&mdash;if I
+were a man&mdash;even if they had not stolen my
+papers."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>AS THROUGH A MIST</h3>
+
+
+<p>Wallace had scarcely completed his report when
+once more he was interrupted by Gale entering the
+office.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Eustace has given me this order to remove
+all her belongings at once," he said, as he entered the
+office and handed the order to Wallace.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good. I'll tell the girl to bring them downstairs.
+Will you be at the front door?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell the girl?" Gale remarked. "You don't
+think it's a girl's job, do you, to move a houseful
+of furniture?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's no furniture; there is nothing here
+belonging to Mrs. Eustace beyond her clothing, and
+some few odds and ends, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you know very little about the matter,
+Mr. Wallace. Everything beyond that door belongs
+to Mrs. Eustace; everything in the residence portion
+of this building is hers absolutely, her own personal
+private property. Even that lamp on your table
+is hers. I have it down on my list."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that is nonsense, utter nonsense," Wallace
+exclaimed pompously. "The furniture is the property
+of the Bank."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The furniture is not the property of the Bank.
+Ask Mr. Harding."</p>
+
+<p>"He is asleep at present, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then he had better get up, because I am about to
+remove the bed on which he is sleeping. It belongs
+to Mrs. Eustace; so do the blankets, the sheets, the
+coverlet, everything, in fact, even to the towels
+in his room."</p>
+
+<p>"What absolute preposterous nonsense!" Wallace
+replied. "I never heard of such a thing. The Bank
+always provides furniture for its branches."</p>
+
+<p>"And does the Bank always allow the wife of a
+branch manager so much a year for the use of that
+furniture, napery, linen, cutlery, and the rest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why ask such a ridiculous question?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because Mrs. Eustace has been paid such an
+allowance since she has been in Waroona. Refer
+to the office records. They will show you whether
+it is so or not."</p>
+
+<p>Wallace turned to the book-racks, and pulled
+down the ledger. Running his eye down the index,
+he saw the item "Furniture Account." Opening
+the book at the page indicated, he read enough
+to prove to him that Gale's statement was
+correct.</p>
+
+<p>"Then all I have to say is, that it is extremely
+unusual," he said, as he slammed the book, and
+returned it to its place.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not concerned in that, Mr. Wallace. All I
+know are the facts. Now that you are also satisfied,
+you will see the work is hardly what a girl can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>
+carry out. I'll send half a dozen men down at
+once."</p>
+
+<p>"But," Wallace exclaimed, looking up aghast,
+"you don't mean to say you are going to remove
+everything?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Eustace has given me her order to remove
+all her belongings. That, I understand, includes
+everything in the living portion of the premises,
+and the lamp now standing on your table."</p>
+
+<p>"But what am I to do? What is Harding to do?
+We cannot sleep on the bare boards and eat our
+meals raw."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see what concern that is of mine. You
+requested Mrs. Eustace to vacate these premises
+at once, and she is doing as you asked. It is not for
+you to complain, surely?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is, under the circumstances, most decidedly
+it is. Someone must always be on the premises after
+what has occurred; but if there is nothing on which
+to sleep, what can be done? Mrs. Eustace knew
+the furniture belonged to her and should have said
+so."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I cannot agree with you," Gale
+replied. "You should have known the furniture
+was hers. Your one desire, it seems to me, was to
+vent on her head the wrath of the Bank at what may,
+or may not have been, her husband's fault. Whether
+it added to the trouble she already had did not matter
+to you in the slightest. But directly you find that
+your spite recoils on yourself and entails some inconvenience
+for you, there is a very different tale to tell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>
+Personally I am very glad to think you can be inconvenienced.
+You had better have Harding called,
+as I shall be back in half an hour with my men.
+Oh, by the by, the servant is engaged by Mrs.
+Eustace, not by the Bank. She will leave with the
+furniture."</p>
+
+<p>He enjoyed the look of consternation on Wallace's
+face. The banker could not deceive himself. Gale
+held him in a cleft stick.</p>
+
+<p>"But this cannot go on," he exclaimed. "Mrs.
+Eustace must see how unreasonable it is. The
+Bank is entitled to at least a month's notice, before
+the things can be removed."</p>
+
+<p>"It is the Bank that gave the notice. Mrs. Eustace
+was told to go at once. Well, she waived her right
+to demand time and said she would go at once.
+Now you blame her!"</p>
+
+<p>"Will she sell the furniture?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, she will not."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall go to Taloona and see about it."</p>
+
+<p>"It will not assist you if you do. In the first place,
+you will not be able to see her, and, in the second,
+even if you did see her, you would only learn that the
+matter has been placed in my hands."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, if it is in your hands, deal with it as a
+reasonable business man. While Mrs. Eustace
+remains at Taloona she will not require the furniture;
+it will be at least a couple of weeks before we can
+have any sent up to serve us. How much does Mrs.
+Eustace want for the hire of what is in the house
+at present?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Twenty pounds a week," Gale replied, without
+moving a muscle, even when Wallace flared up at the
+proposal.</p>
+
+<p>"Utterly preposterous," he cried. "Ten shillings
+a week was what was allowed her. That amount is
+ample."</p>
+
+<p>"You are the buyer, not the seller, Mr. Wallace.
+You pay twenty pounds a week, or the furniture goes.
+Even at that sum I consider that Mrs. Eustace is
+placing the Bank under a distinct obligation to
+her."</p>
+
+<p>There was no escape; reluctantly Wallace admitted
+it, and agreed to the terms, humiliating though they
+were. But it was still more humiliating for him to
+learn the following day that Mrs. Eustace declined
+to accept anything whatever, but allowed the Bank
+to use the furniture and retain the services of Bessie
+until other arrangements could be made.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the game she is playing?" he said to
+Harding. "Is it all part of some elaborate scheme
+between herself and her husband, or is she really
+sincere?"</p>
+
+<p>The letter sewn into the lining of his coat seemed
+to burn itself into Harding's back. Was it all part
+of an elaborate scheme, part of the "everything"
+she had to do "as arranged"? If he could only be
+sure!</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what to make of it," he answered.
+"I don't know." But while they were speculating
+at the bank as to the sincerity or insincerity of Mrs.
+Eustace, she was driving her own troubles from her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>
+mind by the constant and unremitting care of a
+taciturn and exacting patient.</p>
+
+<p>For the first two or three days after the bullet was
+extracted from his leg, Dudgeon was in a high state
+of fever. In his semi-delirium he babbled incessantly
+of Kitty, grew dangerously excited whenever the
+doctor came near him, and would only be pacified
+by the presence of Mrs. Eustace. In his lucid intervals
+he told her over and over again the story of his
+betrayal; when his mind wandered, he regarded her
+as the Kitty he had known before the shattering of
+his life's romance. It was difficult for her to decide
+which experience was the more trying.</p>
+
+<p>Later, when the fever left him, he was as a child
+in her hands, listening while she read or talked to him,
+taking anything she brought him without demur,
+and only showing signs of impatience when she left
+the hut for a while.</p>
+
+<p>Consequently, she was unable to give any attention
+to Durham, and as the days slipped by the doctor
+began to chafe, for there were patients scattered
+through the bush whom he was anxious to visit,
+but he could not go away and leave both men to
+Mrs. Eustace to nurse.</p>
+
+<p>It was at this juncture that Mrs. Burke put her
+threat into execution, and drove over to Taloona in
+a big old-fashioned waggonette with Patsy perched
+on the box and a store of blankets inside.</p>
+
+<p>"I've come to do my share of the work," she told
+the doctor. "They stopped me from coming before&mdash;I
+was turned back by a trooper a mile from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>
+house. But I'm tired of waiting for word how the poor
+fellows are, and have just come to take one of them
+away with me."</p>
+
+<p>She had driven right up to the huts, and the sound
+of her voice penetrated both. Old Dudgeon, striving
+to sit up, stared at Mrs. Eustace with gleaming
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"That devil," he muttered. "It's her voice. I'd
+know it in a million. Keep her away! Don't let
+her come near me, or I'll&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, you must not get excited," Mrs. Eustace
+said, as she gently pushed him back. "No one is
+coming in here. I'll see to that. I'll shut the door
+and bolt them out."</p>
+
+<p>In the other hut the patient's eyes also gleamed,
+but with a different light. The forced inaction, the
+solitude, the wearying monotony of lying still, to
+one accustomed to a life full of incident and action,
+was more than trying; but when, as was the case
+with Durham, there was urgent and engrossing
+work to be done, the compulsory delay aggravated
+the evils of the injury he had sustained.</p>
+
+<p>Through the long hours he chafed against the
+helplessness which prevented him from following
+up the clue he had already obtained, but still more
+did he chafe against his inability to renew his acquaintance
+with the woman who had fascinated
+him.</p>
+
+<p>He was anxious to make headway in her estimation
+so that he would have some understanding, however
+slight, with her when the recovery of her papers and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>
+the winning of the reward gave him the opportunity
+of offering her marriage. His impatience bred many
+fancies in his mind. Daily he pictured to himself
+the danger of someone else becoming his rival in her
+affections.</p>
+
+<p>Were he free to see her he did not fear defeat;
+but while he was lying helpless at Taloona anything
+might be happening at Waroona Downs.</p>
+
+<p>That morning the doctor had told him it would be
+weeks before he would be well enough to resume work
+if he did not make more rapid progress. He had poured
+out professional platitudes against the folly of fretting
+and worrying against the inevitable, but neither his
+platitudes nor the soundness of his reasoning could
+still the eager longing which was at the root of the
+patient's retarded convalescence.</p>
+
+<p>If he could only see her the days would not be so
+blank; even to hear of or from her would be something;
+but this complete separation, this seemingly
+hopeless isolation racked him with impatience.
+Wherefore the sound of her voice breaking in upon his
+mournful reveries, of which she was the central figure,
+made his heart leap with delight.</p>
+
+<p>Come to take one of them away with her! Saving
+that his head swam so much when he moved he would
+have crawled out of his bunk and appealed to her
+that he should be the one, lest the other should be
+before him.</p>
+
+<p>He strove to catch something more of the conversation
+carried on between her and the doctor,
+but their voices were not sufficiently loud for him to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>
+hear more than the sound of them. The creaking of
+the door as it opened made him turn his eyes as the
+doctor came in.</p>
+
+<p>"I've a visitor to see you. Do you think you can
+stand it?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Over the doctor's shoulder Durham caught a
+glimpse of Mrs. Burke, and the smile that rippled
+over his face was all the answer he had time to give
+before she stood beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the poor, poor fellow," she exclaimed softly.
+"Sure he's just pining for a change of air and a
+sight of the bush once more. It's Waroona Downs
+that's the place where he can get what he wants and
+recover so as to catch those villains that have done
+him so much harm. I've come to fetch you, Mr.
+Durham. I've a waggonette outside and a storeful
+of blankets, and Patsy to drive&mdash;sure he can't go
+faster than a funeral at the best, so there's no
+fear of any jolting on the way. If you want to
+come, the doctor says you may, and he'll ride
+along later and see you are all fixed up before
+he goes after his other patients who are all dying,
+poor things, without his help one way or the
+other."</p>
+
+<p>Would he go? His pale cheeks flushed at the
+chance of escape from the deadly solitude of the past
+few days. Anywhere would be better than inside
+that bare, cheerless hut, anything preferable to lying
+on the hard wooden bunk with only a blanket over
+him, and only an occasional flying visit from Mrs.
+Eustace and the periodical dosing by the doctor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>
+But Waroona Downs with the woman he was beginning
+to idolise daily with him!</p>
+
+<p>"Will you come?" she asked softly, as he did
+not speak.</p>
+
+<p>"If I only could," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"There, doctor, you heard him? I'll tell Patsy
+to spread the blankets on the floor of the waggonette,
+and sure he'll never know he's moving till he's
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"It may shake you up a bit," the doctor said, as
+Mrs. Burke left the hut. "But I must get away
+to a case to-morrow, and the old man is as much as
+any woman can look after. Do you think you can
+stand the drive?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd stand anything to get out of this place,"
+Durham answered. "If you think I can stand it, I'm
+satisfied."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you're tough enough to stand anything," the
+doctor replied. "You could not be alive to-day if
+you had not the constitution of a steam-engine.
+They'd charge me with manslaughter down in one
+of the cities, moving a man who had barely had a
+week's rest after a crack in his skull; but we have
+to take things as they come in the bush, my lad,
+and it's mostly rough at the best."</p>
+
+<p>New life seemed already to have come to him,
+and when they had placed him in the waggonette,
+lying comfortably on the pile of blankets Mrs. Burke
+had spread, the wan weariness had gone and Durham
+smiled up into the face that looked down on him with
+so much softness in the dark-lashed eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Overhead the sky was blue as turquoise, and the
+clear sunlit air fanned him with a faint breeze redolent
+with the aromatic perfumes which float through the
+atmosphere of the bush. The horses moved along
+at the slowest pace they could manage beyond a
+walk, and the gentle sway of the waggonette on its
+easy, old-fashioned springs lulled Durham into a
+delightful sense of restfulness and content. Gradually
+his eyelids grew heavy and drooped; peaceful, restful,
+he floated away into slumber as easily as though he
+had been a child rocked in a cradle.</p>
+
+<p>The sunlight had given place to the shade of
+evening when he opened his eyes. The rhythmic
+beat of the horses' hoofs blended harmoniously
+with the sway of the vehicle in which he was travelling,
+and the cool air was filled with a delicious fragrance.
+He awakened with so keen a sense of vitality that
+for the moment he forgot he was an invalid, and made
+an effort to rise. But the strength he felt in his
+muscles was only the trick of his imagination; he
+could barely lift his head.</p>
+
+<p>But that was sufficient to show him that he was
+in the waggonette alone. The seat where Mrs. Burke
+had been when his eyes closed was unoccupied.
+He turned sufficiently to look at the box-seat.
+A figure loomed through the dusk, but it seemed
+more sturdy than the withered frame of old
+Patsy.</p>
+
+<p>He made another effort to sit up. It was not
+entirely successful, but it enabled him to see out of
+the vehicle. Away behind them the dark shadow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>
+of the range between the township and Waroona
+Downs rose against the sky.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Mrs. Burke?" he called, turning his
+face towards the form of the driver.</p>
+
+<p>The horses stopped, and the figure on the box
+leaned back as a merry laugh came down to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, are you awake then? Sure I thought you
+were asleep for good and all the way you never
+moved all the journey. And did you think I had
+vanished and left you to the tender mercies of that
+old fool? Well, now, that's a poor compliment
+to yourself surely, to think I'd run away from you as
+soon as I saw your eyes were closed. No, no, I've
+got charge of you till you are well and strong again,
+though maybe I'll have hard work to shunt you at
+all then, you'll be so used to being nursed. But I
+had to come and drive while I sent the old man on
+ahead to get the door open and a fire alight so as to
+give you something hot to cheer you as soon as
+you reached the house."</p>
+
+<p>"But he cannot walk quicker than we are going?"</p>
+
+<p>"Going? Why, we're standing still. So we were
+at the top of the hill where the horses, poor beasts,
+wanted a long rest to get their wind again, seeing
+how they had come all the way without as much as a
+five minutes' break since we started. You were
+sleeping through it all so peacefully I had not the
+heart to disturb you, but sent the old man on ahead
+while I climbed up here. Sure we're nearly there;
+I can see the light of the lamp shining out of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>
+window. Just keep quiet and rest now till we're
+there."</p>
+
+<p>She started the horses again, and Durham lay back
+on his blankets till he felt the waggonette turn off the
+main road and drive slowly up to the house.</p>
+
+<p>As it stopped, he managed to raise himself into a
+sitting position. There was a momentary humming
+in his head, and he gripped the seats to steady
+himself. The cessation of the noise made by the
+moving wheels and trotting horses accentuated to
+his ears the still silence of the night. So quiet was
+it that as the humming passed from him the creaking
+of the springs when Mrs. Burke swung herself down
+from the box-seat seemed an actual noise.</p>
+
+<p>Patsy's heavy tread echoed on the bare boards of
+the verandah. For a second they stopped, and
+through Durham's brain there rang a curious stifled
+sound, something like a cry coming from afar, a cry
+indistinct and choked as if it were muffled.</p>
+
+<p>The loud tones of Mrs. Burke's voice, speaking
+quickly and decisively, drowned it before the dulled
+brain could either locate whence it came or decide
+whether it was anything more than a variation
+of the humming in his ears.</p>
+
+<p>"Come along now, Patsy. Hasten, you slow old
+fool. Don't you know Mr. Durham will be
+tired?"</p>
+
+<p>The old man stumbled and blundered down the
+steps, and Mrs. Burke came to the end of the
+waggonette.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, now, now! Sure is it wise to do that?" she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>
+exclaimed, as she saw Durham sitting up. "Why
+didn't you wait till we could help you?"</p>
+
+<p>She leaned in and took hold of his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"If you back the waggonette against the steps, I
+can get out easier," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, of course. Now then, Patsy, why
+didn't you think of that?" she exclaimed. "Turn
+the horses round while I stay with Mr. Durham."</p>
+
+<p>She sat on the floor of the vehicle, still holding
+Durham's arm.</p>
+
+<p>The touch of her hands, the sound of her voice as
+she maintained a steady stream of directions to
+Patsy, the fact of being so near to her, filled Durham
+with a gentle soothing. The dreaminess which
+had been upon him when the journey began, and
+before he sank into the contented slumber, returned.
+Her voice reached him as from a distance; his grip
+of the seats loosened, and as the waggonette turned
+he swayed until his head drooped upon the shoulder
+of the woman by his side.</p>
+
+<p>Thereafter all was vague and misty until he came
+to himself and knew he was ascending the short
+flight of steps leading to the verandah, with Mrs.
+Burke supporting him on one side and Patsy the
+other.</p>
+
+<p>As he reached the verandah his legs trembled
+beneath him, and he stood for a moment, leaning
+heavily upon the arms which supported him.</p>
+
+<p>Again there came to his dulled brain the sound
+like a distant stifled cry.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" he muttered. "What's that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, lean on me. Don't fall now. Oh, keep up,
+keep up. Sure what will the doctor say when he comes
+if you've hurt yourself?" the voice of Mrs. Burke
+said in his ear.</p>
+
+<p>"But that&mdash;that cry," he gasped. A cold shiver
+ran through him.</p>
+
+<p>"There's no cry; there's nothing but me and old
+Patsy. Keep up, now. If you're worse, oh, what
+will the doctor say?"</p>
+
+<p>The glare from the lamp shining through the open
+window grew dim; the floor of the verandah rose
+and fell; his arms dropped nerveless to his sides
+and, with the faint muffled cry still ringing in his
+ears, Durham went down into oblivion.</p>
+
+<p>Once the veil partly lifted, and he saw, as through
+a mist, Mrs. Burke standing defiantly before a man
+who slunk away out of the room while she turned
+quickly and came to the couch where he was lying
+and bent over him. As in a dream he felt her cool
+hand touch his brow and her face come close to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, why? Why?" he heard her whisper.
+"Why have you come into my life&mdash;now&mdash;to bring
+love to me? Better if I were dead; but I cannot
+let you go, I cannot! Oh, my love, why have you
+come so late to me?"</p>
+
+<p>Her lips were pressed to his, her arms encircled his
+neck, and as he thrilled at her touch, at her voice,
+at her presence, he essayed to answer her. But he
+had no strength even to move his lips in response
+to her kiss, no power to raise a hand. It was as though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>
+his will no longer had control over his muscles, as
+though his consciousness were something apart from
+his body, something floating in space, voiceless,
+nerveless, motionless, apart from himself, apart
+from all save the love she had for him, and the love
+he had for her.</p>
+
+<p>And in the glamour of that love, the bare knowledge
+that he existed at all faded away, until he was as one
+enveloped in a mist through which neither sight nor
+sound could penetrate.</p>
+
+<p>The sunlight was streaming around him when next
+he remembered. He was lying in a bed in an unfamiliar
+room. By his side the doctor was standing.
+His first memory was of the stifled cry which had
+come to him as he stepped on to the verandah.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, you're awake again, are you?" the doctor
+said cheerily. "Well, how do you feel now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where am I?" Durham asked weakly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you're where you're all right, if you feel all
+right. Do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm&mdash;this isn't the hut."</p>
+
+<p>He glanced round the room which was at once
+strange and familiar to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you remember leaving there? You ought
+to. Don't you remember how we got you into the
+waggonette? When we put you on the blankets?
+Just think. You're at Waroona Downs. Mrs. Burke
+brought you."</p>
+
+<p>"But I&mdash;how did I get here?" Durham repeated,
+glancing again round the room. Then it was that the
+memory of the cry forced itself to the front.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Who was it?" he asked. "Who was it?"</p>
+
+<p>Another figure joined the doctor, and Mrs. Burke
+looked down at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was what?" the doctor asked.</p>
+
+<p>"That cry&mdash;the cry I heard," Durham replied.</p>
+
+<p>"There was no cry," the doctor said. "You've
+been dreaming."</p>
+
+<p>Durham looked from one to the other. As his eyes
+rested on Mrs. Burke's, vaguely there came to him
+the visionary recollection of her kneeling beside him
+with her arms around him and her lips pressed to
+his.</p>
+
+<p>"Dreaming?" he said slowly. "Dreaming?
+Was it all dreaming?"</p>
+
+<p>He was looking straight into her eyes, as he spoke,
+forgetful of the doctor's presence, watching for the
+return of the soft love-light which had filled her eyes
+in that memoried scene. But no love-light shone
+from them. They were unmoved, cold in their grey-blue
+depths almost to hardness.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen to me, my lad," the doctor said briskly.
+"The drive in from Taloona shook you up a bit,
+they tell me. Made you delirious, so that they had to
+keep you on the sofa all night watching you. That's
+where I found you when I got here at dawn. But
+you'll be all right now, I fancy, if you keep quiet and
+don't think about things that never happened.
+You're at Waroona Downs in bed, and Mrs. Burke
+and that old idiot of a doddering Irishman are
+looking after you. That's all you've got to remember."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Except to get well," Mrs. Burke added.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, except to get well; and I reckon your
+nurse will see to that. I'll call in again to-morrow
+or the next day. But remember&mdash;no more
+dreams."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>REVENGE IS SWEET</h3>
+
+
+<p>As the days wore on and Durham won his way back
+to health, he waited in vain for a token from Mrs.
+Burke that the memory which persisted so clearly
+was other than the figment of a dream.</p>
+
+<p>Although she gave him every attention a sick man
+required, there was neither look nor word from her
+to justify him in believing that the memory was of an
+actual scene. For hours she would be with him,
+reading to him, talking to him, meeting his glance
+freely and frankly; but never was there the veriest
+hint of the emotion he had seen in her eyes on that
+occasion.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did he hear again the curious stifled cry which
+had seemed to ring in his ears the night he arrived.
+He was constantly on the alert for it, both by night
+and day, while he was confined to his room and later
+when he was able to get out on to the verandah.
+But there was no repetition of it, until at last he had
+perforce to accept the doctor's view and regard it,
+as well as the other memory, as merely the vagaries
+of delirium.</p>
+
+<p>But if she gave him nothing whereon to feed the
+love he had for her, that love did not diminish as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>
+days passed. It took a deeper and firmer hold upon
+him until he lived in a veritable Fool's Paradise,
+giving no thought of the morrow, saving that it would
+be spent with her, and forgetting even the task which
+had brought him to the district. The outside world
+did not obtrude itself upon him, till the doctor
+declared that only once more would he visit him.
+Then it came with a rush.</p>
+
+<p>A dozen questions forced themselves upon his
+mind.</p>
+
+<p>Since his arrival at Waroona Downs, no word had
+reached him from Brennan, no mention had been
+made of the robberies. When, once or twice, he had
+attempted to speak of them, Mrs. Burke told him
+the doctor's orders were that he was not to be allowed
+to dwell upon anything likely to disturb him, and she
+insisted on carrying out those orders. He had always
+yielded, lest she put into execution the threat she
+made, to leave him to the tender mercies of old Patsy
+for a whole day. But now the injunction was removed,
+for the doctor himself had asked whether he
+should tell Brennan to come out.</p>
+
+<p>Durham awaited his arrival with impatience. Now
+that he allowed his mind to revert to more prosaic
+matters than the object of his adoration, he concluded
+that, as he had not been troubled with official detail,
+someone else had been sent up to continue the investigation
+into the mystery.</p>
+
+<p>He ran over the names of the men most likely to be
+entrusted with the work, speculating which one it
+was, and what course he had followed. He hunted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>
+for the letter he had found the day he discovered
+the track leading to the lake among the hills, and
+when he could not find it, he inferred that after
+he had been struck down at Taloona, the two
+marauders had searched him and had recovered
+what would have been invaluable evidence against
+Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>The excuse Mrs. Burke had put forward for refusing
+to discuss the matter with him suggested she knew
+he had been superseded; the belief grew in his mind
+that his successor had succeeded in either tracing the
+stolen gold or securing the arrest of Eustace, and
+perhaps his companion also. Mrs. Burke, knowing
+this, had declined to talk lest she revealed the secret
+and gave him, as she would consider, cause for mental
+anxiety and distress.</p>
+
+<p>It was therefore a great surprise for him to learn
+from Brennan, as soon as he came out, that no one
+had been sent up to take charge of the case; that no
+arrest had been made, nor clue discovered; but that
+everything had been allowed to remain as it was
+until such time as he was sufficiently recovered to
+resume duty.</p>
+
+<p>"They should not have done that," he exclaimed.
+"Look at the time wasted."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand the Bank wished it, sir," Brennan
+answered. "Mr. Wallace told me as much. He said
+he and his directors were satisfied no one could solve
+the riddle as you could, and head-quarters had been
+asked not to put anyone else in charge, but to leave
+you with an absolutely free hand."</p>
+
+<p>"It is very good of them," Durham said. "But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>
+still&mdash;look at the chance it has given the thieves to
+get away with the gold."</p>
+
+<p>"They haven't gone, sir," Brennan said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"One of them was seen only last night," Brennan
+continued in a low tone. "He was seen on the
+Taloona road, riding the white horse. That is what
+puzzles me. How does he hide that horse? It's
+never been seen in any of the paddocks for miles
+round, for everyone is on the watch for it. And a
+man can't hide a white horse in a hollow log&mdash;it must
+run somewhere some time."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Mrs. Eustace?"</p>
+
+<p>"She's at Smart's cottage. She came in from
+Taloona yesterday. That's what makes it strange,
+to my mind, this white horse and rider being seen
+on the Taloona road the day she leaves the
+place."</p>
+
+<p>"Where are the troopers&mdash;Conlon and his
+mate?"</p>
+
+<p>"Went away three days ago, sir, on orders from
+head-quarters."</p>
+
+<p>"And Mr. Dudgeon?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he's still at Taloona. They say he's pretty
+well right again, except that he limps with a
+stick."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose his gold was taken?"</p>
+
+<p>"Every atom of it, sir. We found the spot where
+it had been dug up under the ashes of the house. But
+that doesn't seem to trouble him very much. All he
+wants is to have the men who stuck up the place
+caught and hanged."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"How did Mrs. Eustace come in?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Gale drove her in, sir. He's been to and fro
+most every day."</p>
+
+<p>"But he didn't meet the man on the white
+horse?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. It was Mr. Gale who brought me word
+of it. He said he thought it must be Eustace, and
+asked if he would be justified in shooting him if he
+met him face to face. Mr. Harding asked the same
+thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, you told them no."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, to tell you the truth, I said it might
+be the best thing for Mrs. Eustace, seeing what the
+conviction of her husband meant for her, but
+that it might mean a charge of murder if it were
+done."</p>
+
+<p>Durham sat silent for a time.</p>
+
+<p>"Come out for me to-morrow, will you, Brennan?"
+he said presently. "I can't wait for the doctor. This
+has got to be dealt with promptly, unless we are to
+lose the game."</p>
+
+<p>When Brennan had gone, Durham sat on the
+verandah alone. Now that he had taken hold of
+the case again, all the fascination his work had for
+him returned. He became so engrossed in the
+contemplation of the problem that unnoticed the sun
+went down to leave the young crescent moon shedding
+a fitful light over the silent bush. Unnoticed, also,
+were the sound of footfalls as Mrs. Burke came out
+on to the verandah.</p>
+
+<p>For a time she stood watching him. Had he turned
+quickly he might have seen in her eyes something of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>
+the expression for which he had looked so often.
+But reading the riddle of the robberies was too
+enthralling a subject, and so he missed his opportunity,
+for when she crossed to the hand-rail against which
+he was sitting, every suggestion of the expression had
+gone from her face.</p>
+
+<p>Standing where the moonlight fell upon her, she
+leaned against one of the verandah posts without
+speaking. It was then he saw her, and from within
+the shadow he feasted his eyes upon the beauty of her
+face and form so clearly outlined against the soft-toned
+evening sky.</p>
+
+<p>"Brennan has gone?" she asked, suddenly turning
+towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Brennan has gone. And this&mdash;this is my
+last evening here," he answered in a low voice.
+"To-morrow I resume duty."</p>
+
+<p>He waited for the remark he hoped she would make,
+but she merely looked away over the silvery haze of
+the bush apparently unmoved, nay, even uninterested
+in the announcement he had made.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you ever feel compassion for the poor
+creatures you are chasing to their doom?" she asked
+presently.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should there be compassion for them?"
+he asked in reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you ever feel it? Don't you ever stop to
+wonder if only they are to blame?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am merely concerned in what they have done.
+Until they have placed themselves in antagonism to
+the laws of society, I have nothing to do with them.
+When they violate the law, then I am bidden to track<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>
+them down so that they may be made to answer for
+the wrongs they may have done. It would assist
+neither them nor myself were I to lose myself in
+compassionate consideration of things I know nothing
+about."</p>
+
+<p>"But surely&mdash;you must sometimes feel sorry for
+them&mdash;must pity them in their misfortune?"</p>
+
+<p>"There are too many who deserve pity, Mrs.
+Burke, for me to waste any of mine on people who
+only injure others. All my pity and sympathy go to
+the victimised, not to the victimisers."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems so hard, so merciless, so hopeless," she
+said after a few minutes' silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you any compassion for those who stole
+your papers? Would you have them escape capture
+and punishment, and so lose for ever all hopes of
+recovering those papers?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>There was a note of sadness in her voice, a
+note almost as unfamiliar as the brevity of her
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>"To what compassion is the man entitled who
+struck me down?"</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know&mdash;you don't know what made
+him do it. He may have been forced to do it for the
+sake of his companion, to save both of them."</p>
+
+<p>"Save himself and his companion from what?
+From capture while committing an outrage and a
+robbery. I do not see where any reason for compassion
+comes in, Mrs. Burke."</p>
+
+<p>"And you would show him none?"</p>
+
+<p>"None," he answered fiercely. "I look upon that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>
+man, whoever and wherever he may be, as a menace
+to mankind. He is unfit to be at large."</p>
+
+<p>"If you saw him, you would shoot him?"</p>
+
+<p>"If I saw him I should try and capture him and
+hand him over for trial."</p>
+
+<p>"But if you could not capture him? If he were
+escaping from you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I would shoot him&mdash;shoot him like a dog,
+and be satisfied I had done my duty."</p>
+
+<p>He stood up as he spoke and came into the moonlight,
+his face hard set, his eyes gleaming.</p>
+
+<p>She raised her hands and held them out towards
+him with so impetuous a gesture that he drew
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope that you may never meet him&mdash;never&mdash;never,"
+she said in a low voice which vibrated with
+emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>Durham rapped out the question in a savage
+staccato.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I&mdash;oh!" she exclaimed, as she shuddered.
+"It is so horrible to think of, to think that
+you who&mdash;when you were delirious, Mr. Durham, you
+used to talk&mdash;you used to say things so full of tenderness
+and sympathy that I wondered&mdash;wondered
+whether you were then your real self or whether your
+real self was the man you are now&mdash;hard, stern,
+pitiless, relentless. It was because of that I asked
+you if you ever felt compassion for those you chase to
+their doom. I would rather remember you as the
+man I learned to know when you unconsciously
+revealed to me your other nature. It is only as that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>
+I care to remember you. But if you met that man and
+killed him&mdash;oh, how could I bear to think of you as a
+murderer? It would kill me!"</p>
+
+<p>"I should not be a murderer. I should be carrying
+out my duty&mdash;a duty I hope I may never be called
+upon to perform, but one which I should not shrink
+from performing if I were called on by circumstances
+to perform it."</p>
+
+<p>For a space there was another silence between them,
+until he remembered she was standing.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you not sit down?" he said quietly. "Let
+me bring you a chair. This is my last night here," he
+said, when she had taken the chair he brought. "Do
+not let us talk about that wretched side of life. I
+want, before I go, to thank you for all the goodness
+and kindness you have shown to me. You have
+been&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She made an exclamation of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>"You have nothing to thank me for, Mr. Durham.
+Surely there is nothing deserving of thanks in doing
+what one could to relieve unmerited suffering. I only
+had&mdash;compassion."</p>
+
+<p>"It was more than compassion. It was
+the&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, please. You will only annoy me if you
+say any more about it. If you had had a skilful
+nurse, you would have been cured long ago; it
+was my foolish blundering which delayed you so
+long."</p>
+
+<p>"Your blundering? If everybody would only
+blunder as you have, Mrs. Burke, then there
+would&mdash;&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You must not say that, Mr. Durham," she
+interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>"But indeed I must," he answered softly. "You
+have not only brought me back to health, but you
+have given me new life&mdash;something I never had
+before&mdash;not until I met you. I want to tell you. I
+want&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," she exclaimed, as she rose to her feet.
+"You must not talk like that. You must not, really.
+I will not listen to you, I must not."</p>
+
+<p>He lay back in his chair and she resumed her seat in
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>"What news had Brennan?" she asked presently.
+"You see, I have not been in the town since you
+came here," she went on. "One likes to know
+what is going, especially when one is isolated. Has
+the new manager arrived at the bank yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think not, but I did not ask. Brennan would
+probably have mentioned it though, if it were
+so."</p>
+
+<p>"I must come in and see about engaging someone
+to get the place ready for stock," she said. "The old
+man is not a scrap of use. In fact, I wish he were
+back in Ireland. He has the usual Irish failing, Mr.
+Durham. You know what that is. I'm always afraid
+that he will break out if ever he gets into the town by
+himself."</p>
+
+<p>"Drink?" Durham asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, something terrible. I don't think he has had
+any since you have been up here, but one never
+knows. Any time I may find him helpless. It makes
+me uneasy until I have someone else about the place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>
+Sure you can never say what a man like that will do.
+He might set the whole place on fire over my head,
+and I should never know it till I was burned to death
+perhaps."</p>
+
+<p>"May I make inquiries for you to-morrow, when
+I get into town? Mr. Gale may know&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Gale? Oh, he's a likely man to bother himself
+about my affairs now. It was Mr. Gale stopped
+me from going to Taloona when I heard first about
+your&mdash;accident. All he could talk about was the
+good Mrs. Eustace was doing, and I said it was as
+well perhaps that Mr. Eustace was not at home,
+seeing the interest all the men in the place were
+taking in his lady. Sure now, is there any news of the
+creature&mdash;Mr. Eustace, I mean&mdash;there's no need to
+ask about Mrs. Eustace. Has any trace at all been
+found of the scoundrel?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't say, really," he answered slowly. "I
+shall know to-morrow. We did not go into everything
+to-day. Brennan only reported certain matters
+of official routine."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well. I should have thought he would have
+given you all the news seeing how long you have been
+away, and knowing how anxious you would be to have
+the latest tidings. Did he say at all how the old
+curmudgeon was? Is Mrs. Eustace still dancing
+attendance on him, and making herself a public
+martyr to cover up the tracks of her levanting
+husband?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe Mr. Dudgeon is practically well again&mdash;the
+doctor could have told you about that."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he did, but I wondered whether you had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>
+other news. Sure it's not always a doctor's word that
+is worth considering. They lie almost as well as
+lawyers&mdash;or the police."</p>
+
+<p>"To whom you come for verification."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, that's just like me, giving away my own
+private opinion of you without the asking. But
+there! Did you ever hear the reason why the old
+man hated so much to let me buy this place? The
+doctor was telling me. He said the old man was never
+done telling him and Mrs. Eustace all about it. It's
+the funniest story ever you heard. Do you know
+it?</p>
+
+<p>"Sure I'll tell it to you," she went on, without
+heeding the absence of any reply to her question.
+"The old man was once in love. You'd hardly
+believe that, would you? But you never know.
+It's the most unlikely people on this earth who are
+the most like to make fools of themselves in that way.
+You and me and the rest of us, sure we're none of us
+safe, though I will say I'd like to see the woman who
+could get the blind side of one man I've met in these
+parts. Who he may be is no matter. But about old
+Dudgeon. It's long since he was in love, you must
+know, but when he was it was with a girl who was the
+daughter of the people who owned this station, years
+and years ago, before you and I were born, indeed.
+Well, the girl wouldn't have him, or preferred someone
+else, which is about the same thing. Kitty
+Lambton was her name when he was after her; it
+was a man named O'Guire she married to get away
+from the old soured rascal, though he was young
+at the time, and mayhap a sour young man at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>
+that. Would you say she was wrong? Would
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose every woman has a right to please
+herself in such a matter," he replied evasively.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I say, and it's what poor Kitty
+did, rest her soul, for she is dead now, poor
+thing."</p>
+
+<p>Her voice dropped to a softer tone suddenly, and
+she was silent for a few seconds; but when she
+resumed her story the shrill tone, the tone which
+irritated and hurt him, he knew not why, rang out
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"But the old man would have none of it. He
+swore all the vengeance he could think of against her
+and hers. He swore no woman should ever set foot
+in this place again. He hounded the father and
+mother of that unfortunate girl to their graves; he
+chased her and her husband from pillar to post,
+robbing them, swindling them, betraying them until
+there was no place on the face of the earth they could
+call their own, no, not even a stick nor a shred. The
+devil was good to him&mdash;sure he always is good to his
+own. Money came to him by the waggon-load, and
+ever did he use it to hound those two unfortunates
+down, lower and lower until there was no hope nor
+peace for them, and they wandered outcasts in the
+sight of man and woman. And that's the man, that
+old double-dyed, heartless scoundrel that you police
+flock to preserve and protect, while the likes of Kitty
+and her husband are forced down and down and down
+to the lowest dregs of life. Is that justice? Is that
+law? Is that right? Answer me that now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Probably Mr. Dudgeon coloured his story a good
+deal when he told it: old men usually do when they
+recount their youthful doings," he said quietly.
+"But, in any case&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She held out her hand impulsively.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a moment," she said. "Supposing he did.
+Supposing the tale is only half true; but supposing
+that he did drive Kitty and her husband to the gutter,
+and suppose they had children&mdash;do you think if those
+children knew what that old scoundrel had done
+they would not be right to pay him back in his own
+coin? Sure I'm glad I was able to make the old
+vagabond eat his own words when I bought
+the place over his head. He's met one woman in
+the world who has defied him. And do you know
+what? If I knew where any of Kitty Lambton's
+children were at this moment&mdash;or her husband, seeing
+she is dead, poor thing&mdash;at least, so the doctor
+said&mdash;I'd go to them and say they could have the
+place free if only they would go and taunt that old
+fiend and fling it in his face and hound him down
+as he hounded down their parents."</p>
+
+<p>"What good would that do either you or them?"
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Good?"</p>
+
+<p>She sprang out of her chair and stood facing
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you know what it is to hate?" she cried.
+"Is it only Irish blood that can boil at rank injustice?
+Is it only Irish hearts which burn to aid the oppressed
+and torture the oppressors as they tortured their poor
+unfortunate victims? You said you would shoot the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>
+man who struck you down, shoot him like a dog, if he
+were escaping your clutches. Don't you think Kitty
+Lambton's children have as great, if not a greater
+right to shoot that bloodless, heartless monster like
+a dog or a cat or any other vermin, if they met him on
+this earth? I'd tell them to do it; I'd tell them to
+do it if there were no other way to make his last
+hours more full of misery and agony. That's what
+I'd do, the dirty old traitorous villain that he is.
+Pah!"</p>
+
+<p>She uttered the words with a tigerish pant as she
+swung on her heels and strode away to the end of the
+verandah, where she stood for a moment staring up
+at the sky, before she returned.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the curse of the Irish to feel the wounds of
+others as keenly as though they were one's own,"
+she said, as she sat down again. "What concern is it
+of mine whether the old fool hoards his money and
+drives lost souls to perdition? I've no right to worry
+about other people's troubles. Sure I have enough of
+my own. But it just maddened me to think of it. Oh,
+it's the Irish hearts that suffer!"</p>
+
+<p>The harsh vibrant tones had gone; the voice he
+heard was that of the woman who had pleaded earlier
+in the evening for compassion for the men who had
+injured her.</p>
+
+<p>Impulsively he reached out his hand and touched
+hers.</p>
+
+<p>"You must not," he said. "You must not heed
+such tales. You are too warm-hearted. The sordid
+side of life is not for you. We who have to come in
+contact with it, and know it in all its wretched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>
+squalor, know only too well that rarely, if ever, can
+one of the high-pitched stories of personal wrong be
+justified. The greater the criminal, the greater the
+protestations of innocence and injustice. Do not be
+deceived. You, who are so full of sympathy and
+gentleness, you who would not, by your own hand,
+hurt the hair of a man's head, you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She sprang up.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't!" she cried. "Don't! You must not&mdash;never&mdash;never&mdash;I
+told you I would not have you
+speak to me of&mdash;I must not hear such things.
+I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He was by her side, his two hands clasping
+hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Nora, I must. Darling, I love you. I cannot bear
+to see&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She pushed him back, flinging her hands free from
+his grasp, to clasp and press them to her bosom as
+though to still the great heaving gasps which made it
+rise and fall in tumultuous spasms.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Durham! You forget!"</p>
+
+<p>Her voice fell like a whip-lash, cold, haughty,
+stern.</p>
+
+<p>"I forbid you ever to speak to me so again. Good
+night."</p>
+
+<p>She swept past him and entered the house, closing
+the door after her.</p>
+
+<p>Hours passed before he could obtain control over
+his thoughts, before he could face the blackness her
+rejection of his declaration had brought upon him.
+Then he rose and stood staring blankly out over the
+sombre mystery of the bush, long since bereft of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>
+faint glimmer of the new-born moon, veiled in shade,
+silent as the thin wisps of filmy mist which floated in
+the still air along the course of Waroona Creek.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning Mrs. Burke met him without a trace
+in her voice, face, or manner of the resentful indignation
+she had shown on the previous night. She
+talked, as she had talked on many a morning at
+the breakfast-table, with an uninterrupted flow of
+chatter, inconsequential, airy, frivolous. She met his
+eyes openly, frankly, without a glimmer to show
+she noticed the lines which furrowed his face. Yet
+they were so marked that when Brennan drove out
+for him later, he glanced at his superior officer with
+apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think you are well enough to return to
+duty, sir?" he asked. "You don't look half so well
+as you did yesterday, and you were not looking too
+well then. If a few more days' rest&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm very fit, Brennan," Durham interrupted.
+"You had better turn the horses out for an hour or so;
+Mrs. Burke insists on my waiting to have lunch
+before I go."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Burke came out to them as they stood
+talking.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Brennan, did you see old Patsy in the town?"
+she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, he was here this morning," Durham
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me, Mr. Durham, he was not. You
+remember what I told you last night. I did not care
+to say then, but the old man was very strange in his
+manner before dinner, and I believed he had had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>
+drink. I spoke to him about it, and I have not seen
+him since."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;who got breakfast ready?" Durham asked
+sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"I did myself, Mr. Durham."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mrs. Burke; why did you not tell me? I
+could have&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"An Irish lady, Mr. Durham, does not ask her
+guests to do her housework."</p>
+
+<p>Durham turned away at the sting of her words and
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see the old man in the town, Brennan?"
+she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mrs. Burke, he was not in town last night. I
+should have seen him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear, then what can have happened to the
+creature? Sure I wish I had left him behind me in
+Ireland."</p>
+
+<p>"He may be about the place somewhere. Will I
+look for him?" Brennan said.</p>
+
+<p>"He's not about the house; I've looked everywhere,"
+she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"He might be in one of the outhouses or
+stables."</p>
+
+<p>"I never thought of that," she exclaimed. "Maybe
+that's where he is. Oh, the trouble of the wretched
+old fool! I'll pack him off back to Ireland."</p>
+
+<p>She went into the house and Durham turned to
+Brennan.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you ever seen him in the town?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, sir. He comes in at night mostly and
+buys drink, but he never stays. Soden told me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>
+yesterday the last time he came in he took away half
+a gallon of rum with him. Maybe that's the cause of
+his disappearance."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll look for him," Durham said shortly.</p>
+
+<p>In an outlying tool-shed they found him, stretched
+out on a tumbled heap of old sacks and rubbish, the
+place reeking with the scent of rum and a half-gallon
+jar lying on its side near him, empty.</p>
+
+<p>"He's dead to the world for a day," Brennan said
+as he stood up after bending over the old man and
+trying to rouse him. "He must have been drinking
+steadily for days to get through that quantity and
+into this state. What are we to do with him,
+sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"If Mrs. Burke will give him in charge we will take
+him to the station and lock him up, but we cannot
+take him otherwise. He's on her private property."</p>
+
+<p>"That settles it then," Brennan replied. "She's
+Irish, sir. You know what that means."</p>
+
+<p>His anticipation was correct. Mrs. Burke refused
+point-blank to allow her helpless retainer to be
+touched. He could remain where he was, she said,
+and she hoped the snakes and the lizards and the
+mosquitoes and all the other fearsome things she
+could mention would come and devour him&mdash;but the
+police were not going to touch him.</p>
+
+<p>She was equally hostile when Durham suggested
+they should start off for the town without giving her
+the trouble of preparing anything for them to eat.
+In fact, he could not now open his lips to her that she
+did not snap some biting retort at him.</p>
+
+<p>"She'd set the dogs on you if she were in her own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>
+country, sir," Brennan remarked, when at last they
+drove away from the house with a final envenomed
+shaft ringing in their ears. "I don't think the old
+man is the only one who has a taste for the drink,
+if you ask me, sir."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE LAST STRAW</h3>
+
+
+<p>Since Mrs. Eustace returned to the township Harding
+had never once been to see her nor, when passing the
+house, had he glanced at it.</p>
+
+<p>His attitude was inexplicable to her. That she had
+not had even a word from him while she was at
+Taloona perplexed her, for it did not occur to her to
+question whether he had received the message she
+left with Bessie for him. Yet there were several
+reasons which might account for that omission.
+But his failure either to see or to communicate
+with her after her return to Waroona was entirely
+another matter.</p>
+
+<p>When the third day came without a sign or word
+from him she took the bull by the horns and sent a
+note asking him to see her that evening.</p>
+
+<p>She was waiting for him in her sitting-room when
+she heard him come to the door, heard him ask Bessie
+if she were at home, heard him approach the room.
+As he opened the door she rose to greet him. He
+stopped on the threshold.</p>
+
+<p>"I received your note&mdash;you wish to see me?"
+he said stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred!" she exclaimed, looking at him in amaze<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>ment.
+"Why, what has happened? Why do you
+speak so? What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>He remained where he was, silent.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you wish to see me?" she asked, still
+regarding him with a look of wondering amazement.
+"Has anything happened? Is that the reason you
+have never been to see me since I came back&mdash;why
+you never sent a word to me at Taloona? Have
+they&mdash;have they found out anything more about
+Charlie?"</p>
+
+<p>He closed the door and walked across to the table
+by the side of which she was standing.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Eustace," he began, but before he could
+say more she interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>"You have something unpleasant to say. What
+is it? At least be frank. Whatever it is I am prepared
+to hear it."</p>
+
+<p>He took the letter from his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"This came into my possession the night we were
+at Taloona," he said slowly. "I should have returned
+it to you at once, but it slipped my memory
+until after you had gone. Then, accidentally, unthinkingly,
+I came to read it. I&mdash;I wish to hear what
+you have to say about it. I wish to know&mdash;&mdash;"
+The sentences he had so carefully thought out fled
+from his brain before the calm, steadfast look with
+which she was regarding him. "Do you recognise
+it?" he asked abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>He held out the cover to her, turning it over so that
+she could see both sides.</p>
+
+<p>"It is one of the Bank envelopes; I don't recognise
+anything else," she replied.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Taking the letter from the cover, he spread it open
+and held it out.</p>
+
+<p>"Now do you know it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Charlie's writing!"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes, after one rapid glance at it, were raised
+to his.</p>
+
+<p>"You recognise it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I recognise the writing, yes. It is his. Do you
+wish me to read it?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you have not already done so."</p>
+
+<p>She took the letter from him. As she read the
+first sentence she raised her eyes, filled with piteous
+anguish, to his.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Fred!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what is this?
+Where did you get it?"</p>
+
+<p>Without waiting for an answer she looked at it
+again. Her face went as white as the paper, a violent
+fit of trembling seized her, and she sank to her knees
+beside the table, burying her head on her arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Fred! Fred! Why&mdash;why did you let me
+see it?" she moaned.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it not yours?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine?"</p>
+
+<p>She was on her feet, facing him, with eyes that
+blazed through the tears which filled them.</p>
+
+<p>"You believed that? You believed I had this
+when&mdash;that I had read it when we were at Taloona?
+You believed that?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was given to me by one of the troopers,
+who picked it up where you had been kneeling when
+you attended to Durham's wound. The man said
+it was either yours or mine. I knew it was not mine,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>
+so I took it to give it to you. I should have given it at
+once, but I forgot it at the moment. When I read
+it&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," she said in a hard voice as he paused.</p>
+
+<p>"When I read it I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes disconcerted him; he could not bring
+himself to say to her face he suspected her.</p>
+
+<p>"When you read it&mdash;you believed it was mine,"
+she said steadily.</p>
+
+<p>"For the moment, yes; I had no alternative.
+Then&mdash;later&mdash;I was uncertain."</p>
+
+<p>"Uncertain of what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Uncertain whether it was yours. At first I intended
+to hand it over to Brennan, as Durham was
+too ill to understand. Of course, that would have
+made it public, and you&mdash;well, you would have been
+suspected, at the least, of complicity in the robbery.
+I could not believe that of you&mdash;could not, even with
+this in my possession. I came back to Waroona in
+the morning intending to see you and hear what
+explanation you had to offer before taking any further
+steps. But you were not at the bank, and when I got
+there I was done up."</p>
+
+<p>The steady look in her eyes never changed.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," she repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"I ask you now&mdash;what explanation have you to
+offer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Please finish your story first," she replied. "Then
+I will tell you mine."</p>
+
+<p>"I have little to add. I could not bring myself to
+give up the letter until I was sure it was really yours.
+Lest anyone else should see it, I hid it where no one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>
+could find it. But when I came down from my room
+again, Mr. Wallace told me you had been in and had
+gone back to Taloona. So I kept it until I could be
+sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure of what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Whether&mdash;you had had it."</p>
+
+<p>She laid it on the table in front of him.</p>
+
+<p>"Take it," she said. "Do what you will with it. I
+am sorry you showed it to me. I would rather not
+have seen it. How it came where it was found I
+do not know. Until to-night I did not know it
+existed."</p>
+
+<p>She met his glance openly, frankly, proudly.</p>
+
+<p>"And you believed it was mine!" she added.</p>
+
+<p>"I had no alternative&mdash;until I saw you," he
+answered.</p>
+
+<p>"You have had that letter for weeks; I have been
+here three days. Yet you only come to me now&mdash;when
+I have asked you to come."</p>
+
+<p>"I dared not see you&mdash;lest&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Lest you discovered me to be even a greater
+traitress than you had already learned me to be,"
+she said in measured tones. "I cannot blame you.
+The fault was mine. I have given you ample reason
+why your faith in me should have ended."</p>
+
+<p>"That is not true," he exclaimed. "I could not
+bring myself to believe you had acted so. But it was
+horrible enough as it was. It was because I had not
+lost faith in you that I hid the letter so as to prevent
+anyone else seeing it. By doing so I was not acting as
+I should have acted towards the Bank."</p>
+
+<p>"I never had it, never. I wish I had not seen it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>
+for it"&mdash;her voice lost its hardness as she spoke&mdash;"it
+is the last straw. Whatever else I knew my
+husband to be, I held him innocent of that crime.
+When you and all the others suspected him, I would
+not, could not bring myself to believe it. But
+now&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her voice caught and she turned aside, sinking into
+a chair where she sat with averted face and bowed
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"No wonder you did not wish to see me again,"
+she added presently, as he did not speak. "What am
+I now? The wife of a thief, an outlaw, one who was
+almost a murderer. Oh, leave me! I should not
+have sent to you. Leave me. There is nothing for
+me now but death or degradation."</p>
+
+<p>"You must not say that, Jess, you must not say
+that," he said in a strained voice as he came and
+stood beside her. "Whatever he may have done,
+you are not affected by it. Appearances cannot well
+be blacker against him than they are at present, but
+you must still remember you are not responsible
+for his ill-deeds. No one here, least of all myself,
+blames you. Besides, he has not yet been convicted."</p>
+
+<p>"Not after that letter? There can be no doubt
+after that. He must have had it with him when he
+was at Taloona, and dropped it."</p>
+
+<p>"But it was opened, torn open, when the trooper
+found it. If Eustace had dropped it, surely it would
+have been sealed up."</p>
+
+<p>She glanced at him quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you still suspect me?" she exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should not be here if I did," he answered
+quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know what to think," she said. "I
+would rather you had come to tell me he was dead
+than to show me that hideous thing. Better if he
+were dead, far, far better, than that he should live
+to end his days on the gallows or in gaol."</p>
+
+<p>She was voicing his own thought, a thought which
+had been with him for many days.</p>
+
+<p>"It was because something of this kind might
+happen I wanted you to go away," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I know. I understand that. But I told you&mdash;told
+you why I could not go."</p>
+
+<p>She spoke scarcely above a whisper, with her head
+bent over her clasped hands as though she feared he
+might see her face.</p>
+
+<p>"But the reason you gave no longer exists. Will
+you go now? Will you go and leave all this wretched
+strain and worry behind you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I dare not. It would drive me to perdition. You
+don't know how a woman thinks. So long as she
+has someone near her whom she knows has respect
+for her, she will fight against the temptation to
+drown all her sorrows in one reckless plunge. When
+that one is no longer near her, no longer her stronghold,
+then&mdash;what has she to live for?"</p>
+
+<p>"You have the respect of all who know you."</p>
+
+<p>She pressed her clasped hands to her lips to stop
+their quivering.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Fred, no. I must stay. I could not bear
+to go. A man can think for the future; a woman
+lives only in the present. You, a man, cannot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>
+understand that. You would say I should go away,
+and in a few months or a year or so everything
+would have blown over. That would be all right
+for a man, but not for a woman. It is while the affair
+is blowing over that she is in the greatest danger.
+It is then she wants sustaining. She is only conscious
+of the precipice at her feet. Left to herself
+she must lean over, nearer and nearer to the edge
+until she falls.</p>
+
+<p>"That is the road to ruin thousands of women
+tread," she went on. "It would have been the
+road I should have gone but for you. The knowledge
+that despite all I have done to merit your scorn,
+you still hold to the love you gave me in the happier
+days, is the rock to which I have clung. Had you
+acted differently, I should have gone&mdash;gone from
+here, gone from everything, gone out into the world
+and lost myself under the weight of the disgrace
+which had come upon me. People would say I
+have no right to tell you this, that I am false to my
+sex in doing so. They don't know. It is easy to
+theorise when one is not in danger. I tell you because
+I trust you and know I can trust you. It is such men
+as you who save women, save them from themselves,
+as it is such men as Charlie who ruin them&mdash;as he
+ruined me."</p>
+
+<p>With her face still averted from him she ceased,
+and he also was silent, not trusting himself to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"That is why I must stay here. The mere fact
+of being near you gives me strength. If you are
+going away, then I will go also, for Waroona would
+then be impossible for me. But not till then, Fred,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>
+not till then. I only want to know you are here,
+only to see you sometimes. Do not deny me that."</p>
+
+<p>"You know I will not deny you anything that
+will help you in facing your difficulties, Jess," he
+answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know," she said. "I could never have
+come through what I have if I had not always
+known it.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you have to go when the new manager
+comes?" she asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>"The new manager is here," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Here? Why, when did he arrive? I did not
+hear of it. Did they keep it from me on purpose?
+Mr. Gale was in this morning, but he said nothing
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>"He probably did not know at the time. I told
+him this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"What is his name? Is it anyone I know, or
+who knew Charlie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>She faced round quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred&mdash;you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am pleased," she began impulsively.
+Then she stopped. "That was why you did not
+come sooner," she added.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he replied. "Mr. Wallace told me three
+days ago it was to be, and I thought it better not to
+call immediately you returned."</p>
+
+<p>She had risen with her hand outstretched to him,
+but, before she could speak, a knock at the front
+door interrupted her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Is Mr. Harding here?" they heard Durham's
+voice ask when Bessie went to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell him I wish to see him at once," he added.</p>
+
+<p>She went to the door of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Ask Mr. Durham to come in," she called out. "I
+am glad to see you out again," she added as Durham
+came forward. "Mr. Harding is in here. Will you
+come in?"</p>
+
+<p>He followed her into the room without speaking,
+his face so stern that a tremor of fear ran through
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you give me a few minutes alone with Mr.
+Harding, please, Mrs. Eustace?" he began, when his
+keen eyes caught sight of the open letter lying on
+the table.</p>
+
+<p>He sprang forward and picked it up.</p>
+
+<p>"How did this come here?" he cried, looking from
+one to the other.</p>
+
+<p>"I brought it," Harding answered. "One of the
+troopers found it at Taloona and thought Mrs.
+Eustace or I had dropped it when attending to you."</p>
+
+<p>"It must have fallen from my pocket," Durham
+said as he folded it up.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace was looking at him with anxious
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell me&mdash;where you&mdash;got it?" she
+asked hesitatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I found it&mdash;in the bush, lying unopened on the
+ground. By the marks on the ground someone had
+evidently been thrown from his horse, and this, I
+assume, had fallen from his pocket."</p>
+
+<p>"Was it&mdash;near the bank?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, Mrs. Eustace, it was in the bush miles
+away."</p>
+
+<p>She gave a deep sigh of relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you leave us for a few minutes now, if you
+please?" he repeated.</p>
+
+<p>She inclined her head and went from the room.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the door was closed, Durham turned to
+Harding.</p>
+
+<p>"I went to the bank for you," he said, "to ask
+you to come here. I am glad you are here already.
+I have an unpleasant task to perform. Will you give
+me your assistance?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," Harding answered. "What is it
+you wish me to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you would do it altogether. It will be
+easier for her if you tell her, than if I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace is arrested?" Harding exclaimed in an
+excited whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace is dead," Durham replied in the same
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>Harding started as though he had been struck.</p>
+
+<p>"How? When?" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Brennan and I found him, as we were returning
+from Waroona Downs this evening. He was lying
+on his face in the creek where it crosses the road
+in the range. He was drenched with water from
+head to foot, but the water at the ford is barely
+six inches deep. There were no footprints on the
+track either side of the ford to show how he had
+entered the water. He was shot in the back, the
+bullet having passed through his right lung, coming
+out at his chest. His wrists were bruised and chafed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>
+as though he had been tightly bound and had
+struggled to escape. The only thing found on him
+was this."</p>
+
+<p>He produced a handkerchief with two round holes
+burned in the centre.</p>
+
+<p>"It was such a handkerchief one of the men who
+stuck up Taloona was wearing," he added.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he now?" Harding asked.</p>
+
+<p>"We brought him in and took him over to the
+police-station. It is for Mrs. Eustace, of course, to
+say what is to be done about the funeral. Will you
+break the news to her by yourself, or shall I do
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You have told Mr. Wallace?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He suggested I should see you. The news
+upset him very much."</p>
+
+<p>"It will be better if I see her alone, I think."</p>
+
+<p>"I think so too. Not that I want to put the burden
+upon you, but coming from me&mdash;&mdash;" he shrugged
+his shoulders. "I will leave you then, and ask
+her to come in."</p>
+
+<p>Harding met her at the door. Closing it behind her,
+he took her hand and led her to the chair where she
+had been sitting before Durham arrived.</p>
+
+<p>"Jess," he said softly, as he stood by her, still
+holding her hand, "I have sad news to tell
+you."</p>
+
+<p>Her fingers closed tighter upon his, but beyond
+that she made no sign.</p>
+
+<p>"Durham asked me to tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Charlie," she said in a tense whisper. "It is
+about him. He is&mdash;&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A shudder went through her and her voice
+broke.</p>
+
+<p>He placed his other hand upon hers gently.</p>
+
+<p>"He is gone, Jess."</p>
+
+<p>She rose to her feet with a gasp, clutching his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Not dead!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Jess."</p>
+
+<p>Her hands fell to her sides, limply, nervelessly;
+her lips parted, but no sound came from them;
+for a second she stood motionless.</p>
+
+<p>He took her hand again and rested his arm upon
+her shoulder, fearing she would fall.</p>
+
+<p>"Dead!"</p>
+
+<p>The word came in a low whisper, but the parted
+lips did not move nor the staring eyes change.</p>
+
+<p>"My poor, poor Jess," he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Fred!"</p>
+
+<p>A great wavering sigh escaped her, a sigh that
+ended in a sob, plaintive, wailing, sad. But still her
+eyes stared blankly.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, Jess," he said softly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no. Let me stand. Let me&mdash;I want to face
+it. Don't leave me, Fred, don't leave me."</p>
+
+<p>She swayed, and the staring eyes closed. He
+slipped his arm round her waist to support her and
+at the touch she came forward, flinging her arms
+round him as her head drooped upon his shoulder
+and she burst into a fit of wild, tempestuous
+weeping.</p>
+
+<p>So he held her, his head bent upon hers, his arms
+supporting her. Not until the storm of sobs had
+abated did he speak.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, now, Jess. You will be better resting,"
+he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," she answered. "No, no. Let me
+stay&mdash;a moment."</p>
+
+<p>A hum of voices came from the road outside,
+for the news, flying through the town, brought everybody
+out to tell and hear.</p>
+
+<p>With one accord they gathered round the police-station,
+which was almost opposite the cottage, and
+stood in the road discussing the latest phase of the
+mystery, the phase which brought into it the note
+of tragedy. Then someone remembered the cottage
+and who was in it, and passed the word along. The
+loud voices were hushed as the men, actuated by
+the rough sympathy of the bush, quietly moved
+away so that the sound of their voices should not
+reach the woman on whom a fresh blow had fallen.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie, hearing the noise, went out to ascertain the
+cause. Hearing what the news was, she rushed
+back into the cottage and precipitately burst into
+the sitting-room. As she opened the door, Harding
+signed to her to keep quiet.</p>
+
+<p>"Here is Bessie, Jess. Will you stay with her?"
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>She drew away from him slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, don't go yet," she answered. "Tell me everything.
+I can hear it now."</p>
+
+<p>Bessie slipped out of the room and softly closed
+the door after her.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Eustace took the chair Harding placed for
+her and he sat down by her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Who&mdash;did it?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No one knows yet," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Do they think&mdash;it was&mdash;himself?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; it could not have been."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad of that," she said. "I have always
+feared he would. Then there could have been no
+doubt. Was he found?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Durham was driving in from Waroona
+Downs with Brennan. They found him in the
+water where the creek crosses the road in the
+range."</p>
+
+<p>"Drowned?" she asked wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not drowned; he had been shot."</p>
+
+<p>She shuddered and gripped his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"They did not&mdash;&mdash;" she began brokenly. "They&mdash;it
+was not because he was&mdash;escaping?"</p>
+
+<p>"They found him," he said gently. "He was lying
+in the water&mdash;the shot had been fired from behind
+him."</p>
+
+<p>For a time she sat silent, still holding his hand
+firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he now?" she asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>"They brought him in and Durham came across
+to tell you. Will you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no. Oh, no," she interrupted as she
+shuddered and hid her face in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she raised her eyes to his.</p>
+
+<p>"It is better so," she said. "They may find out
+now that he was innocent; they would have condemned
+him had he been taken alive."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He laid a hand on hers without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>With a quick gesture she raised it to her
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Fred, what a friend you have been to me!"
+she murmured.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE RIDER'S SCORN</h3>
+
+
+<p>Late into the night the townsfolk of Waroona stood
+in knots and groups in the roadway discussing the
+mystery surrounding the death of Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>Until the closing hour compelled the hotelkeepers
+to turn their customers out, the bars were crowded
+and a roaring trade was done, all the loose cash in the
+place passing into the tills which were full to overflowing.</p>
+
+<p>Everyone had a theory, which differed from that
+of everyone else, but as one after the other told his
+particular views on the question and heard them
+criticised and discussed, and heard also the views of
+others, there was a rapid falling off in individual
+opinions and a tendency to concentrate on one or
+two which withstood the test of criticism the
+best.</p>
+
+<p>On one point there was unanimity of opinion.
+Eustace and the man with the yellow beard had
+been in league. They had robbed the bank together,
+Eustace having drugged the other inmates so that
+there should be no chance of the work being disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace had also participated in the robbery
+and outrage at Taloona. He it was, the townsmen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>
+decided, who had his face hidden by the handkerchief
+mask. The indifference of his companion whether
+his face was seen or not suggested to them a stranger,
+one who was not known in the district, but who had
+come there for the purpose of carrying out the
+robbery of the bank.</p>
+
+<p>When the first sum of twenty-five thousand was
+so successfully secured, Eustace would know that
+the Bank, for its own protection, would have to hurry
+forward another similar sum to meet the obligation
+of its client. He would know that old Dudgeon
+would refuse to leave it in charge of the Bank, and
+would decline any police protection even if it were
+offered. Therefore, the crowd argued, he and his
+companion had waited until they could make a dash
+for that second sum.</p>
+
+<p>So far the events as they knew them corroborated
+their views. There had been the attack on Taloona;
+the second sum of money had been stolen and the
+rough treatment meted out both to old Dudgeon
+and the sub-inspector showed that the two outlaws
+were men who were prepared to play a desperate
+game to preserve their liberty and booty.</p>
+
+<p>It was this desperation which gave the most popular
+clue to the solution of the mystery surrounding the
+death of Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>The money, fifty thousand pounds in all, had been
+safely carried off to the hiding-place the robbers
+had chosen. In addition to the money there were
+other articles, and over the division of this spoil
+there had been a quarrel. Eustace had gone down,
+probably taken unawares, seeing that he had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>
+shot in the back. Little as anyone sympathised
+with him in the course he had followed, there was a
+feeling of resentment against his companion for having
+obviously taken a mean advantage over the man
+who had thrown in his lot with him. A quarrel was
+possible at any time, even so deadly a quarrel as
+would result fatally for one or other of the combatants;
+but at least it should have been fairly
+conducted.</p>
+
+<p>Thereafter the completion of the story was easy.</p>
+
+<p>The victor had emptied his victim's pockets of
+everything except the incriminating handkerchief&mdash;leaving
+that, perchance, to fasten upon him a part
+responsibility of the Taloona outrage; had taken
+the body on his horse and ridden with it to the ford,
+dropping it in the middle of the stream where it was
+bound to be discovered by the first person passing
+that way.</p>
+
+<p>There was a callousness, a cynical indifference to all
+human instincts in this method of disposing of his
+victim, which deepened the feeling of resentment
+against the assassin who everyone held to be the
+unknown man with the yellow beard. To have left
+the body where it fell would have been less brutal
+than to flaunt it in the face of police and public as a
+taunt and a mockery. Following the outburst of
+amazement which the discovery had aroused, there
+came a sense of bitter hostility against the man
+who had done this, to their minds, needless act of
+savagery.</p>
+
+<p>As Brennan passed to and fro he was assailed with
+questions as to what the sub-inspector was going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>
+to do. Volunteers on all sides offered their services
+to scour the range, where all believed the murderer
+was hiding, and ride him down. But Brennan would
+say nothing. The sub-inspector had barely spoken
+since he returned to the station; but if he wanted help
+he would not hesitate to appeal for it, Brennan told
+them, adding that they need not worry&mdash;the criminal
+who could outwit the sleuth-hound of the force was
+not yet born.</p>
+
+<p>"But the Rider of Waroona is no fool," one of the
+men remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Neither is Sub-Inspector Durham," Brennan
+retorted.</p>
+
+<p>Gale, who was standing in the group listening to
+the remarks made, but advancing no theory of his
+own, spoke out for the first time.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not so sure," he said. "He may be smart
+enough in following up town robberies, but he hasn't
+done much here yet. Twice he has come in contact
+with the pair, and each time they have got ahead of
+him. He stops everyone else from doing anything.
+I offered to go out with a dozen men and scour the
+range, but he wouldn't hear of it&mdash;that was before he
+was cornered at Taloona."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry," Brennan replied. "The sub-inspector
+knows what he is doing."</p>
+
+<p>He passed away from the group and the men
+turned to Gale.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I don't follow," one of them said.
+"The chap must be hiding somewhere with that
+white horse of his. Why not scour the range for
+him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Brennan told me he didn't believe there was a
+white horse&mdash;that it was all a yarn," another exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I saw it," Gale retorted. "I saw it on the
+Taloona road. I'd have gone after it only I was in a
+buggy and it vanished into the bush."</p>
+
+<p>"Is the range the only place you'd look, Mr. Gale?"
+one of the men asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No," Gale replied. "I'd look there first, and
+then I'd go the other way."</p>
+
+<p>"Taloona way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, not far off."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I think," the man went on. "Old
+Crotchety takes the loss of his money too quietly
+to please me. He's a pretty fly old chap and does
+not stop at a trifle to get his own back."</p>
+
+<p>"Like he did when he fired you out, Davy," someone
+exclaimed, and there was a general laugh,
+for the story of how Davy had been sent about his
+business at a moment's notice by Dudgeon was one
+of the stock anecdotes of the district.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's as it may be," Davy retorted, "but
+I know too much about the old man to trust him
+very far."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think he's the Rider?" Gale exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"No, but he may know who the Rider is&mdash;there are
+plenty of men who'd do the job for a round sum
+down."</p>
+
+<p>"But how about Eustace?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, that would be a bit of luck to get him
+to join. They may have thrown him over when he
+was no more use to them, and then there may have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>
+been a row and somebody's gun may have gone off
+a bit too soon. You never know. But anyhow,
+I'm with you when you say things look as if they are
+getting too much for the police to handle."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all very fine, Davy, but what I'd like to
+know is why the old man got shot? Did he pay a
+man to do that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course he didn't," Davy exclaimed. "I
+had a yarn with one of the troopers about that. He
+told me what the sub-inspector said in his report.
+Maybe that's something you don't know."</p>
+
+<p>It was, and the attention of the group concentrated
+on Davy, much to his satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on, let's have the yarn," someone said impatiently,
+and there was a chorus of assent from the
+others.</p>
+
+<p>"This is what happened," Davy went on. "The
+Rider and his mate&mdash;Eustace, as I believe&mdash;came
+into the hut to settle the sub-inspector. As a blind
+they put handcuffs on the old man and were going to
+do the same with Durham when he, finding himself
+cornered again, made a fight for it. One of the chaps
+fired, meaning to finish him, but missed and hit the
+old man instead. Then, in the fight, the lamp was
+upset and the place in a blaze. Durham got a crack
+on the head and staggered outside, and before the
+others could get the old man out of the place the
+troopers arrived, and they had to bolt to save their
+own skins. That is pretty much what Conlon told
+me was in the sub-inspector's report. It was after
+hearing it I suspected the old chap."</p>
+
+<p>The group was silent as Davy ceased.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You've got the bulge on us this time," one of
+them remarked presently. "Why didn't you tell
+the yarn before?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because it was told to me in confidence&mdash;I knew
+Conlon years ago in the South. But now this other
+thing's happened it makes all the difference, doesn't
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"But how about the money, Davy?" Gale asked.
+"That had gone, you know; I saw the place where
+it had been dug up."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you? You saw a hole in the ground; but
+how do you know the money was ever in it? And
+how could two chaps carry away a lot of loose bags
+of money on horseback?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's so," one of the group cried. "I reckon
+Davy's on the right track this time."</p>
+
+<p>"Anyway, so far as the money is concerned, only
+those who can afford to lose have been robbed. It
+won't break the Bank and old Dudgeon can stand
+it," Gale observed.</p>
+
+<p>"But there's murder in the case now. That
+counts more than money. It means hanging for
+someone," Davy replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Or ought to&mdash;if the police can catch him," Gale
+said, as he left the group and went on to Soden's
+bar, where he found Allnut and Johnson carrying
+on an animated discussion with the hotelkeeper
+on the one topic.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you heard the latest?" he inquired as he
+joined them.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that? A clue? Have the police got a
+clue?" Soden exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There's a clue&mdash;of a sort, but the police haven't
+got it. Davy Freeman has been giving us a new
+theory. He says old Dudgeon's at the back of it
+all."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not sure he's far wrong, Mr. Gale, to tell you
+the truth," Soden said in his slow manner. "They
+say funny things about the old man, especially those
+who were here in the early days."</p>
+
+<p>"What's Freeman's yarn?" Allnut asked.</p>
+
+<p>By the time Gale had repeated the story his
+audience had grown, and the waning interest in the
+subject was revived as the theory was passed from
+one to the other until it spread through all the
+groups and was debated and discussed from every
+possible and impossible standpoint. When the hour
+arrived for closing the bars the men clustered in the
+road, still wrestling with the problem.</p>
+
+<p>The night wore on and the young moon was sinking
+to the west before they began to knock the ashes
+out of their pipes, preparatory to adjourning the
+open-air parliament until the following day. One
+man was still pouring out his views and opinions
+and the others crowded round him, their own
+energies spent, but listening listlessly before they
+separated.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the sound of a horse galloping wildly
+startled them. With one accord they turned towards
+the direction whence the sound came.</p>
+
+<p>In the faint half-light, right in the middle of the
+road, racing with maddened speed, charging straight
+upon them, they saw a white horse with a bearded
+rider.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>To the right and left they scattered to get clear
+of the flying hoofs as through the midst of them,
+with a mocking shout and a wave of his hand, there
+flashed past the man with the yellow beard.</p>
+
+<p>A howl of execration and wrath broke from their
+lips. Those who had gone to their homes rushed out.
+Brennan, with Durham at his heels, dashed from the
+station.</p>
+
+<p>"The Rider! The Rider!" came in a chorus of
+hoarse shouts. "After him, lads, after him."</p>
+
+<p>There was a scatter and scamper as men fled
+for their horses. Barebacked, many with the bridle
+scarcely secure, all without weapons, the men of
+Waroona raced pell-mell down the road.</p>
+
+<p>Behind them, armed and orderly, Durham and
+his constable spurred their horses in pursuit.</p>
+
+<p>"The fools! They'll help him to escape," Durham
+cried as they came in sight of the confused rabble
+racing along the road.</p>
+
+<p>Ahead of the charging mob the road for a hundred
+yards showed clear as it topped a slight ascent. A
+belt of scrub a quarter of a mile through intervened
+between the mob and the open stretch of road.
+But from where Durham and Brennan were the view
+was uninterrupted.</p>
+
+<p>The white horse and its rider were half-way to the
+top.</p>
+
+<p>Acting with one impulse, both raised their carbines
+and fired from the saddle. The noise of the reports
+echoed through the still air and made the men in the
+scrub below rein in their horses to listen. As the
+smoke drifted clear Durham and Brennan saw, on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>
+the summit of the rise, the white horse prancing,
+riderless.</p>
+
+<p>Reloading as they rode, they dug their spurs home
+and raced through the patch of scrub. The men
+heard them coming, and waited, the lack of a leader
+making them undecided how to act. They made way
+for the two police, closing in behind them and
+pressing up to learn what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"He's down. Keep back," Brennan called to
+them over his shoulder, and they slowed their horses
+until Durham and the constable rode twenty yards
+in front.</p>
+
+<p>Through the shadow of the scrub the two galloped
+side by side, each with his carbine resting on his
+hip ready for instant use. The road was soft and
+sandy and the beat of the horses' hoofs was
+muffled.</p>
+
+<p>With a sharp turn the road was clear of the scrub,
+and the open stretch rising to the top of the hill lay
+before them. In the centre one small dark object
+was on the ground, but there was no sign of the
+man they expected to see.</p>
+
+<p>Reining in as they came up to the small object,
+they saw it was an ordinary bushman's slouch hat.
+In the roadway, close to it, two long furrows were
+scored, while at irregular intervals up the rise flecks
+of blood glistened.</p>
+
+<p>Durham leaped from his saddle and picked up the
+hat. On the lining was stamped the name of the
+chief Waroona storekeeper, Allnut.</p>
+
+<p>"He's a local man," Durham said quickly. "Keep
+those fools back."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>While Brennan checked the charging crowd, now
+racing up the slope, Durham went forward alone.
+On the sandy roadway the marks made by the
+prancing horse were clearly visible to the top of
+the hill. The animal had evidently been badly
+frightened and had reared and plunged from one side
+of the road to the other, but nowhere was there such
+a mark as he knew must have been made had the
+rider fallen. Nor had the horse plunged as a riderless
+animal, but as one straining against a tight-held
+rein.</p>
+
+<p>At the top of the hill the marks showed down the
+other slope until the horse had reached a point where
+it would no longer be visible from the spot he and
+Brennan had been when they fired. There the track
+gradually approached the edge of the road and
+vanished on to the rough ground.</p>
+
+<p>Durham sprang out of the saddle and bent over
+the marks where they left the road. The horse
+had been pulled round and ridden directly into the
+bush. With the last faint rays of the moon dying
+away it was hopeless trying to follow the tracks
+through the sombre shadow; nothing more could
+be done until daylight to follow where the man
+had ridden.</p>
+
+<p>He had remounted and was riding back when
+the remainder of the men came up with
+Brennan.</p>
+
+<p>"The track runs into the bush; there's no hope
+of following it to-night," he cried.</p>
+
+<p>No hope? A dozen voices answered him with a
+flat contradiction, and past him there was a rush of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>
+barebacked riders hot on the trail. They scattered
+in a wide-spreading line, riding straight ahead and
+watching only for a gleam of the white horse amid
+the shadows of the bush.</p>
+
+<p>Durham stood up in his stirrups and shouted to
+them to come back, but he might as well have called
+to the wind. The fever of the chase was in their veins,
+the reckless dash of the hunter fired by the excitement
+of the greatest of all pursuits, a man-hunt.
+While this held them, they raced, aimlessly, uselessly,
+but persistently.</p>
+
+<p>Those with cooler heads and better judgment
+reined in their horses. Gale found himself in the
+midst of an excited throng with whom he was carried
+forward for some distance before he could get free.</p>
+
+<p>"He's right, lads, he's right," he shouted. "There's
+no chance to follow the track till it's daylight.
+Don't smother it. Come back."</p>
+
+<p>"Chase him to the range, boys, chase him to
+the range. We'll catch him at the rise," yelled one
+of the men in the lead, and with an answering cheer
+the galloping crowd held on.</p>
+
+<p>Those who had remained on the road were starting
+to return to the township when Gale rode back.
+Hearing him coming, they waited to see who it
+was.</p>
+
+<p>"They're mad," he cried, as he came up. "If
+they get near him, he'll shoot them as they come,
+and they'll destroy every sign of his tracks."</p>
+
+<p>"It's done now," Durham exclaimed impatiently.
+"We'll have to leave them; it's no use going after
+them now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He turned his horse's head and set off for the
+township with Brennan at his side and the rest
+trailing after him. At the station he and Brennan
+wheeled their horses into the yard while the others
+went on to their homes.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be away with the dawn," Durham said,
+as soon as the horses were stabled and they were in
+their quarters. "It's the old story. That fellow
+has had so much luck up to the present he's lost
+his head. He wants to show us how clever he
+really is."</p>
+
+<p>"There's not much sense in what he did to-night;
+anyone in the crowd might have had a rifle, and
+there was no doubt who he was&mdash;he carried his life
+in his hands for nothing, it seems to me."</p>
+
+<p>"They always do sooner or later. He's an old
+hand at the game, or he wouldn't be so anxious
+to let us know he's still in the neighbourhood."</p>
+
+<p>While he was speaking, the door opened and
+Soden, the hotelkeeper, excitedly entered the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, come across the road, quick. Come and
+have a look at it. Hang me if this doesn't beat cock-fighting.
+They've stuck up the pub and cleared off
+with the till and all the takings," he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>He led the way to his hotel, the front door of which
+was open.</p>
+
+<p>"As I found it," he said as he pulled it to until it
+was ajar. "When we closed for the night it was
+locked and bolted. Look at it."</p>
+
+<p>Durham carefully examined it.</p>
+
+<p>"Opened by an expert burglar," he said quietly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No one but a master of the craft could have done
+it so neatly. Show me the till."</p>
+
+<p>Soden led them into the bar. The till, empty,
+was on the floor; every cupboard door was forced and
+the place in chaos.</p>
+
+<p>As they stood looking at the wreck, voices sounded
+outside and other men trooped in.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, I say," the first-comer cried. "Here's a
+pretty go. Someone has been in my place and
+cleared every pennypiece out of it and&mdash;hullo!"
+he exclaimed as he looked at the state of Soden's bar,
+one of the show places of the town under ordinary
+conditions. "You seem to have had them too,
+and there's a mob outside, all with the same
+story."</p>
+
+<p>There was no gainsaying what had happened.
+While the men of the town were out careering
+after the mysterious Rider, their homes had
+been rifled of everything of value. The town
+was stripped as clean as though a tribe of human
+locusts had swept through it. Two places only
+were unvisited, the bank and Mrs. Eustace's
+cottage, in both of which places lights had been
+burning.</p>
+
+<p>Not even the police-station escaped, though not
+until Durham and Brennan returned to it did they
+realise the fact. What money there was in the
+place had vanished; a watch Brennan had left hanging
+over his bunk had disappeared and, as if to emphasise
+the visit, the pages of the record book were
+smeared with ink and defaced.</p>
+
+<p>Brennan glanced covertly at his superior who,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>
+with a heavy frown on his brow, stood scowling at the
+defaced book.</p>
+
+<p>"Have the revolvers gone?" he asked suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>Brennan turned to the locker where they were
+kept.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, they are here all right. I fancy he must
+have been disturbed before he could finish his
+work here. None of the cupboards have been
+touched."</p>
+
+<p>"Whom do you suspect?" Durham asked sharply.</p>
+
+<p>Brennan scratched his head and screwed up his
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, to tell you the plain, honest truth, sir,
+I'm bothered if I know who to suspect. What gets
+over me is that white horse. No one believed the
+yarn about the buggy and pair of white horses,
+and no one believed the yarn about the men on
+white horses being seen on the Taloona road. But
+here the chap comes clean through the township
+riding a horse of a colour that isn't known in the
+district. You can't put a white horse out of sight
+like you can a stray cat, sir. But where do they go
+when the Riders are not on the road? It gets me,
+sir, I'm free to admit."</p>
+
+<p>"That hat I picked up was bought at the store in
+the town. That suggests someone who has been about
+the place."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he might have stolen it. He might have
+taken it from the bank, or Taloona, or it might have
+been that other poor chap's&mdash;out there, I mean,"
+he added, nodding towards the shed where Eustace
+lay.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He's no bushman," Durham said.</p>
+
+<p>"He rides well enough for one."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I admit he rides well enough for one,
+but many men ride besides bushmen. I know
+neither he nor his partner have any practical bush
+experience. I know that. Just as I know the man
+who went through the town to-night is a burglar
+who learned his craft in one of the big cities of the
+world. The way that hotel door was opened was one
+of the finest pieces of expert burglary I've ever seen,
+and there are some pretty smart men at the game in
+our cities."</p>
+
+<p>"He's a pretty daring chap," Brennan remarked,
+with a touch of admiration in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"He's too daring. That is what puzzles me. With
+fifty thousand pounds in gold and the valuables stolen
+from the bank, what sense is there in dashing through
+the place as he did to-night and then taking a bigger
+risk by doubling back past us and stealing what at
+the most can barely have been a hundred pounds
+in all?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think he doubled back, sir? Don't you
+think the dash through the town was a trick to
+draw everyone away so as to leave the way clear for
+a second man to do the burgling?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see who the second man could be. The
+handkerchief shows Eustace was the man who was
+with him at Taloona. I don't think he has another
+man with him now. He is doing it single-handed
+and seems to be enjoying it, too."</p>
+
+<p>"We ought to be able to pick up his tracks in the
+morning, if he doubled back."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, if those fools have not smothered them.
+I'll see to that. I'll be away with the dawn. Mind
+you, no one is to know."</p>
+
+<p>"You can be sure of that, sir," Brennan
+answered.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>LOVE'S CONQUEST</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the grey half light which is neither night nor day,
+Durham saddled his horse in the station yard.</p>
+
+<p>No one was stirring in the township as he passed
+slowly along the road, but lest there should happen
+to be anyone who might see him, he turned into
+the bush at the first opening he came to. Only then
+did he set his horse at a faster pace, riding direct
+for the range to pick up the track leading to the
+hidden pool.</p>
+
+<p>The air was soft and cool, with filmy streaks of
+vapour floating amid the trees. As he cantered
+along, the mist rose and formed a pearly haze overhead
+into which there came a tinge of pink, dissipating
+it, before the colour could grow into a deeper
+tone, to reveal the clear sky, blue as a sapphire and
+bright with the first rays of the rising sun.</p>
+
+<p>In long swinging strides his horse carried him
+easily, and his spirits rose above the gloom which
+had weighed upon him since the evening before
+when, for the third time, he had been foiled by the
+mysterious Rider.</p>
+
+<p>There had been little sleep for him during the
+night. Had the discovery of Eustace and the raid
+of the town been the only events of the day he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>
+might have succeeded in banishing them from his
+mind sufficiently to allow himself to sleep. But there
+was more than these, disquieting as they were, to
+fill him with restlessness. The way in which Mrs.
+Burke had rebuffed him on the previous evening,
+the hostility of manner she had displayed towards
+him up to the time he and Brennan left Waroona
+Downs, weighed upon him.</p>
+
+<p>He could not account for the change which had
+come over her. From the time he arrived from
+Taloona she had always shown kindliness and
+gentleness towards him, even when, during the
+early days of his convalescence, he had been impatient
+and exacting. Nor could he find a reason
+for the change in the brief profession he had made
+of his love for her. Had that been the cause she
+would, he argued, have shown it the morning after;
+but she had met him then with the same light-hearted
+raillery with which she had greeted him
+every morning he had been in her house. Only
+when Brennan arrived on the scene had she suddenly
+developed antagonism.</p>
+
+<p>There must be some other reason for her anger
+than his declaration of love. For hours he had
+sought for it, cudgelling his brain to discover an
+explanation; but only now, as he cantered along
+through the bush with his spirits rising in harmony
+with the glories of an Australian dawn, did illumination
+come to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my love, why have you come so late to
+me!"</p>
+
+<p>Through the sombre shade of his brooding there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>
+flashed the memory of the scene when he had heard
+those words spoken. Like the touch of a magic
+wand the memory changed gloom to sunshine,
+shadow into light.</p>
+
+<p>It was not because he had professed his love for
+her that she had been displeased; it was because
+he was going from her, leaving her house, parting
+with her perhaps for all time.</p>
+
+<p>What a fool he had been not to know that earlier.
+Of course, she had repelled him when he had spoken
+on the previous evening, repelled him, not because
+she resented, but because she, like all of her sex,
+could not yield the truth at the first asking.</p>
+
+<p>Yet why should he have doubted with the memory
+of that earlier scene in his mind? He asked himself
+the question and answered it frankly.</p>
+
+<p>He doubted for the reason that still he did not
+know whether that memory was of a real scene, or
+was merely a figment of a delirium-haunted brain.
+If he could be sure, then no more need he doubt;
+but how was he to be sure? There was only one
+way&mdash;only one person in all the world who could
+tell him whether he was right or not&mdash;Nora Burke
+alone could say whether he had been dreaming.</p>
+
+<p>Some day he would ask her to tell him, some day,
+after he had asked and compelled her to answer
+that other question which had now become insistent.
+For the time the mystery of the Rider
+occupied a second place in his thoughts; yet the
+trend of his mind unconsciously brought it again
+to the front.</p>
+
+<p>The mission on which he had set out was one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>
+which might clear away the initial obstacle in the
+pathway of his love; he might locate the hiding-place
+of the Rider; might secure a clue to his identity;
+might, by great good fortune, discover the
+stolen money.</p>
+
+<p>If he could only do that, if he could only go back
+to the bank with the news that he had recovered
+the stolen gold, five thousand pounds would be his.
+Then he would be able to go to Mrs. Burke without
+the feeling, unbearable to a man of his temperament,
+that he, a poor man, was aspiring to one who had
+money, and who might attribute to that money the
+secret of his fascination.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the sun showed above the trees, he
+was up to the outlying spurs of the range and nearing
+the ridge along which he had previously followed
+the tracks of the two horsemen. With the knowledge
+he had gained how the track turned and
+twisted, he set his horse to the rising ground, and
+rode steadily and cautiously until he arrived at the
+summit of the steep immediately above where the
+creek entered the pool.</p>
+
+<p>Below him was the narrow sandy strip running
+round the edge of the water, and even from where
+he was he could see the marks of the horses' hoofs
+upon it. His glance wandered from the shore over
+the surface of the pool. It was a long sheet of water,
+more an exaggerated reach in a stream than a lake,
+for except along the sandy margin below him, the
+water everywhere rippled right up to the dense
+verdure-clad slopes of the hills.</p>
+
+<p>A curious discolouration appeared in a streak<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>
+across the pool at the far end. The otherwise clear
+water was marred by a ledge of rock which stretched
+from one side of the pool to the other and came so
+near the surface as to give a suggestion of muddiness
+to the water.</p>
+
+<p>Dismounting, he led his horse to a sheltered gully,
+and securely tethered him to a tree. Then, with
+his carbine on his arm and his revolver pouch unfastened,
+he walked down to the dry bed of the
+creek and followed it to the mouth.</p>
+
+<p>Fresh marks were on the soft ground near the
+water, coming from the end of the pool where the
+streak of muddy water showed, and passing onwards
+round the pool. He decided to go in the same
+direction, and for a few yards walked along the
+level before he discovered other hoof-prints, equally
+clear, going the opposite way. The horseman, whoever
+he might be, had both come and gone within
+the past few hours, but Durham was uncertain
+which way had been the last.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the level ground he forced a way through
+the thick herbage growing on the bank above and
+crept forward. As he went he obtained through the
+foliage an occasional glimpse of the track below,
+until the bank rose so steeply and the vegetation
+became so dense that he had to climb higher to
+move along at all. Presently he came to an easier
+grade, and was able to see once more the margin of
+the pool, but he was surprised to discover that all
+marks of the horses had ceased.</p>
+
+<p>He crept down to the water. Looking back, he
+saw that the bank, on the top of which he had been,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>
+ran out to the water's edge, forming a barrier across
+the track and terminating in a steep bluff jutting
+out into the pool.</p>
+
+<p>Crouching almost to the ground, Durham crawled
+through the undergrowth until he reached the
+summit of the bluff, and was able to see once more
+the narrow sandy strip which skirted the bank and
+formed the margin of the shore.</p>
+
+<p>Peering through the low-growing shrubs he saw
+how the bluff fell away in a precipitous descent on
+the other side down to where the narrow strip widened
+out into a level space screened by a clump of bushes
+reaching from the high bank to the water. The
+whole of this space was trampled upon, and it was
+evident that horsemen had been there frequently
+and recently.</p>
+
+<p>A step forward showed him something more.
+Right under the bank a dark patch showed. It was
+the mouth of a cave.</p>
+
+<p>He listened intently, but no sound came to him,
+and he again crept forward until he was able to see
+into the cave. It was low-roofed, and formed by
+rocks which had fallen loosely together, and over
+which vegetable soil had accumulated.</p>
+
+<p>Satisfied it was empty, he advanced boldly towards
+it. As he pushed between the shrubs which grew
+close up to it, he caught sight of what, in the shadow,
+looked like a crouching man. In a moment his carbine
+was thrown forward and he was about to challenge,
+when he realised he was aiming at a heap of clothes.</p>
+
+<p>He stepped into the cave. The clothes lay in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>
+carelessly thrown heap, and with them, half hidden,
+was a false beard of long yellow hair.</p>
+
+<p>Picking it up, he held it at arm's length. So the
+Rider was disguised after all!</p>
+
+<p>The flimsy thing brought clearly back to him the
+features of the man as he had twice seen him. The
+close-clipped fair hair, the light sandy eyebrows, the
+peculiarly light lashes which gave so sinister an expression
+to the eyes, were distinct; but when he
+tried to reconstruct the face as it would be without
+the beard, he was baffled. The form of the nose,
+the moulding of the chin, the shape of the mouth,
+had been hidden by the disguise, and without a
+knowledge of them Durham could not grasp fully
+what the man was like. As Harding had expressed
+himself, when describing the face he had seen at the
+window of the bank, it was the impression of a
+familiar face disguised, and yet a familiar face which
+could not be located.</p>
+
+<p>Beyond that he could not go.</p>
+
+<p>He picked up the clothes and examined them.
+They were of nondescript grey, such as can be
+bought by the hundred at any bush store in Australia,
+and were similar to what the man was wearing the
+night he visited Waroona Downs. The hat was
+missing, as Durham expected it would be. The
+pockets were empty.</p>
+
+<p>Replacing the articles as nearly as possible in the
+position in which he found them, Durham turned
+his attention to the cave itself.</p>
+
+<p>The floor was rough and uneven. What sand
+clustered in the hollows was too much trampled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>
+upon to reveal any detail of the feet that had walked
+upon it.</p>
+
+<p>There were innumerable nooks and crannies where
+articles could be stored, but in every instance they
+contained nothing. Nowhere could he find anything
+more than the clothes.</p>
+
+<p>He went to the mouth and stood peering round
+to see if there was another similar cave near, but
+everywhere else the ground rose solid and unbroken.</p>
+
+<p>In the open space under the shelter of the bluff
+where the ground had been so much trampled by
+horses, the wheel-marks of a vehicle also showed.
+He walked over and examined them carefully.</p>
+
+<p>They were the marks of what was evidently an old
+and rackety conveyance. One of the wheels was
+loose and askew on the axle, with the result that it
+made a wobbly mark on the ground, while the tyres
+on all the wheels were uneven in width and badly
+worn.</p>
+
+<p>"Almost as ancient as old Dudgeon's rattle-trap,"
+Durham said to himself as he looked at the marks.</p>
+
+<p>The story, fanciful as he had regarded it at the
+time, of the buggy driven by two men with a pair of
+white horses, the story told by the travelling bushmen
+the day the bank robbery was discovered,
+recurred to him. If this was the vehicle in which
+the gold had been carried off, and the wheel-marks
+he was looking at had been made by it, then that
+gold was probably secreted somewhere in his immediate
+vicinity.</p>
+
+<p>The thick-growing shrubs and stunted gums made
+it difficult for him to see far from where he stood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>
+The level stretch along the margin of the pool showed
+clear enough, but around him the vegetation was so
+dense that, unless he had some clue to guide him, to
+prosecute a search within it was like trying the
+proverbial search for a needle in a haystack.</p>
+
+<p>During the time that had elapsed since those
+wheel-marks had been made they had been greatly
+obliterated, but it was still possible to distinguish
+where the vehicle had been stopped, for the horses
+had turned suddenly, and the wheels cut deep as
+they came round. He stepped to the spot. Later
+tramplings had removed all clear traces of footmarks.
+Nothing was now to be learned from that source.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes swept along the line of shrubs which
+fringed the open space. A twig, snapped near the
+stem, dangled, its leaves brown and withered. It
+was a finger pointing where someone had forced a
+way through.</p>
+
+<p>Durham went down on his knees beside the shrub.
+Near the root the bark had been stripped for a
+couple of inches, the scar showing brown, while in
+the soil the impression of a heavy boot was just
+distinguishable.</p>
+
+<p>On hands and knees he pushed his way between
+the stems. Other footmarks, old and faint, showed,
+and he crept along with his eyes on them. Some
+weeks before there had evidently been much coming
+and going through the scrub at this point. Looking
+straight ahead he saw the grey sheen of a sun-dried log.
+He stood up. The thick undergrowth reached to his
+armpits, but through it, a couple of yards from where
+he stood, and ten from the spot where the wheel-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>marks
+turned, was the fallen trunk of an old dead
+tree.</p>
+
+<p>Such a log, hollow for the greater part of its
+length and absolutely hidden by the shrubs growing
+round it, was exactly the place where anything
+could be secreted, and remain secreted, for an indefinite
+period.</p>
+
+<p>Pushing his way carefully through the tangle of
+shrubs he came upon it at the root end. It had
+evidently fallen in some bygone bush-fire, the jagged
+charred fragments showing where it had snapped off
+close to the ground. The fire had eaten its way into
+the heart of the timber and there was space enough
+in the cavity for a man to crouch.</p>
+
+<p>Stooping down, Durham peered into it. At the
+far end he saw, indistinctly, a confused mass, pushed
+up closely. He reached in, but could not touch it,
+without creeping into the opening.</p>
+
+<p>He looked round for something that would serve
+as a rake to pull the articles out, but there was no
+loose stick sufficiently long near to hand, and he
+did not want to cut one. Higher up the bank he
+saw one that would suit his purpose and went to
+get it.</p>
+
+<p>As he returned with it in his hand he saw, at the
+other end of the log, a patch of white on the ground.
+Going over to it he found it was caused by a chalky
+powder which clustered thickly near the tree.</p>
+
+<p>This end of the log was also hollow, and in the
+cavity were a couple of bags which, when he pulled
+them out, he found to be full of the chalky
+powder.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The white horses flashed into his mind as he
+looked at it.</p>
+
+<p>"The cunning scoundrel!" he exclaimed. "Even
+the horses were disguised."</p>
+
+<p>He replaced the bags, and went to the root end of
+the tree. With his stick he was able to reach the
+objects stored in the hole, and pulled one out.</p>
+
+<p>By the weight he knew what he had found, before
+he opened it&mdash;the bag was full of gold.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly he drew everything out of the place. All
+the gold taken from the bank and from Taloona lay
+at his feet, together with a miscellaneous collection
+of jewellery wrapped up in a small square of canvas.
+But there was no sign either of papers or bank-notes.</p>
+
+<p>It was out of the question for him to attempt to
+remove the treasure to the bank there and then.
+All he could do was to make it as secure as possible
+until, at a later day, he could return with a conveyance
+and carry it back to the town.</p>
+
+<p>On the far side of the bluff he discovered a crevice
+formed by an overhanging ledge. It was a place
+even more difficult to trace than the fallen tree, and
+here he placed everything, keeping only a gold
+watch which bore Harding's name. Then, having
+obliterated, as nearly as he could, every mark which
+would be likely to reveal the hiding-place, he made
+his way back to his horse.</p>
+
+<p>He rode to the margin of the pool, and walked
+along the track until he was opposite the streak of
+mud stain in the water. The horse and wheel-tracks
+turned towards it and, standing up in his stirrups,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>
+Durham saw that the water shoaled with a wide
+ledge of rock running directly into the pool.</p>
+
+<p>Putting his horse to it, the water was barely
+a foot deep on the rock all the way across to the
+opposite bank. Here the horse and wheel-tracks
+reappeared, turning sharp to the left through
+the bush, and passing over a dwarf ridge from the
+summit of which he caught sight of the mountain
+road where it turned down to the ford.</p>
+
+<p>Still following the tracks, they led him once more
+to the water's edge. He entered it, and continued
+close to the shore until he suddenly emerged on to
+the rock which formed the break in the road over
+which the stream rippled.</p>
+
+<p>He rode on to the road and reined in his horse
+near the spot where he had first seen the pool the
+night he was on his way to Waroona Downs. Had
+he not just ridden along the track round the edge
+of the water, he would not have believed it was
+there, so absolutely was it hidden from the roadway.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he hesitated whether to go on to
+Waroona Downs or return to the township at once,
+and arrange for the treasure to be removed. But
+the anxiety gnawing at his heart decided for him
+and he wheeled his horse and set off at a canter for
+the station.</p>
+
+<p>As he came out to the level road he saw, riding
+towards him, the object of his regard. Mounted on
+a fine dark chestnut she was coming along at a hand
+gallop. She waved her hand as she caught sight of
+him, and he pulled up to wait for her, watching,
+with more than admiration, the magnificent seat she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>
+had and the easy grace with which she managed her
+horse.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mr. Durham, I'm so glad to see you," she
+cried as she came up. "I am in such trouble about
+that old reprobate. Sure he's gone and I'm just
+after riding into town to see if he is getting more of
+the wretched drink. If I find him&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Brennan will have him if he is in there, Mrs.
+Burke. You need not be uneasy. I'll inquire as
+soon as I return. I am on my way&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I can't," she interrupted. "What
+would they say if ever it got to Ireland that I let
+the old fool fall into the hands of the police over a
+trifle like this&mdash;for it's only a trifle they would call
+it in Ireland, Mr. Durham. Sure if it were known
+there, and you may be certain he'd leave no stone
+unturned to make it public, they'd boycott me and
+all my belongings, if they didn't do something
+worse."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it would be better for you not to go back
+there," he said, smiling at her.</p>
+
+<p>She gave him a sidelong glance with her head on
+one side.</p>
+
+<p>"Not go back there? And what should I be
+doing anywhere else with all my responsibilities
+waiting over there for me?" she asked coquettishly.</p>
+
+<p>"You may have responsibilities over here as well,
+some which would&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, now, you're making fun of me, Mr. Durham,"
+she exclaimed. "What's a bit of a place like this
+with never even a single pig on it, let alone all the
+sheep and cattle it ought to have, to keep me from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>
+my own home? When I get stock on the place it
+might keep me here, but sure where's the money to
+come from to buy the creatures if I don't go back
+and sell everything I possess to pay for them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you turn back, Mrs. Burke? I was
+riding out to see you. I want to&mdash;ask you something."</p>
+
+<p>"Ask me something? What, more police questions?
+No, no thanks, Mr. Durham. They don't
+agree with my constitution&mdash;nor my temper."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not a police question," he said seriously.
+"It is to do&mdash;with&mdash;with yourself."</p>
+
+<p>A merry peal of mocking laughter answered
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Come along now, come to the township with me
+before they get poor old Patsy where it would break
+his honest old heart to be."</p>
+
+<p>She started her horse.</p>
+
+<p>"Come along now," she called over her shoulder,
+flashing a mischievous glance back at him.</p>
+
+<p>He had no alternative but to follow, and he cantered
+to her side.</p>
+
+<p>"It would teach him a good lesson, Mrs. Burke,
+if you let him spend a few days in the lock-up," he
+said. "It would give him a chance to get really
+sober, whereas, if he keeps on getting drink, you
+will have him out of his mind."</p>
+
+<p>"Now you're trying to frighten me, Mr. Durham.
+Sure, what sort of a man is it I've met this morning?
+I believe you'd like to see old Patsy inside a cell,
+and then maybe you'd be after me too."</p>
+
+<p>"I might be," he answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What would you give me? Six months hard
+or just a caution?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should offer you something entirely different,"
+he said in a serious tone of voice. "I should offer
+you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, it's a lot you police people offer folk.
+Sure they have to take what is given them, whether
+they like it, or want it, or not."</p>
+
+<p>"I may not always be one of the police people,
+as you term us," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you thinking of joining the ministry?" she
+exclaimed. "I'd like to hear you preach your first
+sermon, Mr. Durham. I'd come twenty miles in the
+rain for it."</p>
+
+<p>The mockery in her voice irritated him, and his
+face showed it.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, now, Mr. Durham, don't talk nonsense.
+What would become of the place if you left the
+force of which you are such an ornament? It's
+fairy tales you are telling me. And you have never
+said a word yet about your journey. What news
+did you hear when you reached Waroona?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you have not heard about Eustace?"
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace? What's the matter with Eustace
+now?"</p>
+
+<p>"He was found yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>The jerk she gave the bridle brought her horse
+back on his haunches, and Durham was a couple of
+lengths past her before he could bring his horse
+round. When he turned she was allowing her horse
+to walk, the bridle hanging loose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Eustace was found yesterday?" she asked in
+a dazed tone as she came up to him. "Found
+yesterday? Is that the news you had to give
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was not to tell you of that I was on my way
+to Waroona Downs," he replied. "Though I should
+probably have mentioned it."</p>
+
+<p>"Where was he found, Mr. Durham? I suppose
+he is arrested now?"</p>
+
+<p>All the raillery had gone from her voice, which
+had grown so sorrowful that he looked at her wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>"He was not alive when he was found," he said
+quietly, still watching her.</p>
+
+<p>Her hands convulsively clutched the bridle, and
+her mouth twitched.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mr. Durham, how awful! What a terrible
+thing! Oh, poor Mrs. Eustace! Sure I'm glad I'm
+going into the town, for I'll be able to see the poor
+thing. Is she much upset? But she is sure to be."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a great trial for her. She will be very glad
+to see you, I should think," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, well; what a funny thing life is, Mr.
+Durham. One never knows. It's all a muddled-up
+sort of affair at the best. If only people could do
+what is in them to do, instead of being placed in
+positions where there is only sadness and trouble
+crowding in on them and crushing them out of
+existence! It's a weary world, very, very weary."</p>
+
+<p>"We can only take it as we find it, and make the
+best of it," he said. "You must not allow this to
+worry you. Perhaps, after all, it is the best thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>
+that could have happened for him. There are worse
+things than death. Think what it would have been
+for Mrs. Eustace had he been captured and sent to
+penal servitude. Her whole life would have been
+ruined. We see so much of that in cases where the
+husband gives way. It is the wife who suffers most,
+Mrs. Burke."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know, I know," she exclaimed in a tone
+so full of sadness that he feared he had touched on
+some secret grief.</p>
+
+<p>He rode beside her in silence, not knowing what
+to say lest he added to her distress, but yet tormented
+by the idea that he should speak out what
+was in his heart and learn, once and for all, whether
+his hopes were to be realised or shattered. Keeping
+slightly behind her, he was able to watch her without
+her knowing it. She was staring between her
+horse's ears, her lips tightly closed, her head erect,
+and her cheeks pale. Lost, apparently, in the
+reverie his words had called up, she seemed to have
+forgotten his presence as a mile went by without
+her turning her head or opening her lips.</p>
+
+<p>But she had not forgotten he was there. At a
+turn in the road she uttered a sharp exclamation
+and held out her hand, pointing.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it is too bad," she exclaimed bitterly.
+"It is too much for anyone to bear. Look at
+that!"</p>
+
+<p>Away down the road Durham saw a horse and
+rider. The horse was making its own way, the rider
+having as much as he could do to keep in the saddle.
+He was swaying from side to side, occasionally<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>
+waving his arms in the air and howling out a tuneless
+ditty in a strident cracked voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Patsy," Durham said shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what will I do?" she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Better let me take him back and give him a few
+days where he will have time to recover his senses,
+I think," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She flashed a furious glance at him.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall do no such thing," she snapped. "The
+best thing you can do is to get out of sight before he
+sees you. He hates you, Mr. Durham. Irishmen of
+his class always hate the police. The sight of you
+will only aggravate him in his present state."</p>
+
+<p>"He is not in a fit state to return with you,"
+Durham said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I can manage him if I'm left alone with
+him," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"But I shall not leave you with him," he said
+firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"You must; you must," she exclaimed sharply.
+Then, as though a mask had fallen from her, the
+expression of her face changed and she leaned towards
+him, laying her hand on his bridle arm. "Oh, yes,
+please, for my sake. For the sake of&mdash;of what I said
+you&mdash;you were not to mention again&mdash;will you&mdash;please
+will you do this?"</p>
+
+<p>Her wonderful eyes, soft and melting with a look
+of appeal, were turned full upon his; her red lips
+pouted and her voice thrilled with a winning gentleness.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, please do this for me. I would not ask
+it, only I know&mdash;I know&mdash;I can ask <i>you</i>."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Her voice sank to a whisper, more alluring, more
+devastating upon him than when she spoke before.
+So taken aback, and yet so elated was he at her change
+of manner, that he could not answer her at once.</p>
+
+<p>"You were coming to tell me again&mdash;I read it in
+your face. Oh, do this for me now. Leave me
+alone with him. Come and see me to-morrow.
+Come and tell me then&mdash;tell me&mdash;what I want to
+hear."</p>
+
+<p>"Nora!"</p>
+
+<p>The word escaped him in a gasp. What she
+wanted to hear! Were his ears playing him false?
+Was he dreaming? He had his hands on hers, holding
+it with a grip of a strong man stirred to the
+depths, crushing the fingers one on the other, but
+there was no waver in the eyes that looked with so
+much entreaty into his.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave me now before he sees you, before he gets
+here. I can manage him best alone. Look, he is
+hastening. Oh, don't wait. Ride away into the
+bush. I appeal to you&mdash;in the name of my love for
+you. Dearest&mdash;go!"</p>
+
+<p>The tumult surged up and over him; had she
+bidden him at that moment to ride into the jaws of
+death, he would have galloped, shouting his delight.
+Nothing else counted with him then, nothing but her
+wish. Bending down he pressed her hand to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Go&mdash;go&mdash;quickly&mdash;dearest!" he heard.</p>
+
+<p>"Till to-morrow, Beloved, till to-morrow," he
+answered, as, pulling his horse's head round, he
+drove his spurs home and plunged into the bush,
+racing in the wild abandon of his joy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>What did it matter that a drunken old Irishman
+was saved from arrest? He would probably have
+contented himself with warning the old reprobate
+to get home as quickly and as quietly as he could.
+But she did not know that. All she could do was to
+think how to save her foolish servant from the
+penalty of his folly&mdash;how like her that was, how
+like the great warm-hearted noble creature she was!
+Pride in her, pride, love, adoration, welled up in his
+heart. The yearning of his soul was satisfied, the
+longing of his being set at rest.</p>
+
+<p>Her love was his! In that knowledge all the contradictions
+of her attitude became clear. She had
+only sought to hide the truth from him lest he should
+think her too easily won. He laughed aloud as he
+galloped.</p>
+
+<p>Too easily?</p>
+
+<p>No matter how great the sacrifice he had been
+called upon to make, it would have ranked as nothing
+if, at the end of it, her open arms were waiting to
+enfold him. But there was no sacrifice, no toll to be
+exacted from him. Of her own initiative she had
+sounded the note which called him to her and made
+her his. To-morrow he would ride out to her, not
+alone to give her the pledge of his affections, but to
+carry to her the tidings of his discovery. Although
+he had not yet recovered her papers, he would be
+able to assure her that he would have them as soon
+as he captured the man who stole them, the man
+who had murdered Eustace, the Rider whose hiding-place
+he had discovered.</p>
+
+<p>For there was no doubt in his mind about that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>
+capture. Once let the gold be safely removed to the
+bank, he would return to the cave and wait till, as
+he was certain would happen sooner or later, the
+Rider came for his disguise.</p>
+
+<p>Then Nora Burke should have her papers returned
+in safety, and he would have won more than
+the promised five thousand pounds reward.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>DUDGEON PROPOSES</h3>
+
+
+<p>For the first time since the outrage at Taloona,
+Dudgeon visited Waroona.</p>
+
+<p>He drove up to Soden's hotel in the old rackety
+buggy at a crawl, for his horse had gone dead lame
+on the way. At the time he arrived Patsy was
+making ineffectual attempts to mount his horse for
+the ride which led to so dramatic a turning in Durham's
+romance, having just staggered out of the bar highly
+indignant because Soden had refused to allow him
+to have anything more to drink on the premises.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you a horse I can borrow from you, Soden?
+My old crock has gone in the off hind-leg and wants
+a rest. Can you let me have one to get back?"
+Dudgeon called out.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have to send out to the paddock, Mr. Dudgeon,
+but I'll have one in by four this afternoon, if that
+will suit you."</p>
+
+<p>"It'll have to suit, I suppose," Dudgeon replied.
+"I didn't want to hang about the place so long, but
+if you'll have it in by four I'll be here ready to start.
+I'll leave the buggy with you."</p>
+
+<p>While they were talking Patsy and his horse were
+slowly going round and round, the old man missing
+the stirrup every time he put his foot up, and only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>
+avoiding a fall by hanging on to the bridle so firmly
+that he pulled the horse round at each ineffectual
+attempt to mount.</p>
+
+<p>"Give him a leg up, Jim," Soden said to his barman.</p>
+
+<p>Old Patsy, with the help of the barman, managed
+to clamber into the saddle, where he sat for a few
+minutes swaying unsteadily before he started to ride
+off through the town.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's he from?" Dudgeon asked, looking
+after him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's Mrs. Burke's Irish body-guard,"
+Soden said. "Says he should never have left Ireland,
+and I agree with him. There'll be trouble out at the
+Downs some of these days, if she doesn't clear him
+out or he gives over drinking. Don't you serve him
+any more, do you hear, Jim? Hand him over to
+Brennan if he comes in again," he added to his
+barman.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what's the news?" Dudgeon exclaimed
+as he got out of his buggy and limped over to
+Soden.</p>
+
+<p>"The leg's not all right yet, I see?" Soden said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's getting on. Anything fresh about the
+bank?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, haven't you heard?" Soden cried.
+"They've found Eustace, found him with a bullet
+through him, lying in the water at the ford in the
+range. He's over there now," he added, jerking his
+head towards the police-station.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that you say?" Dudgeon exclaimed,
+open-eyed and open-mouthed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"They found him only yesterday&mdash;the sub-inspector
+and the constable. And last night, what
+do you think? His mate, the man with the beard
+who stuck your place up, galloped through the town
+here, and afterwards, when we were all out chasing
+him, doubled back on us and stole everything he
+could lay his hands on."</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon still stood staring open-mouthed and
+open-eyed.</p>
+
+<p>"There were only two places he missed, the bank
+and the cottage down the road&mdash;Smart's place&mdash;where
+Mrs. Eustace is living."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Then that poor thing's a widow?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's so," Soden replied. "But, between
+you and me, I don't think for long. You know she
+and Harding&mdash;he's our new bank manager, by the
+way&mdash;are old friends, Mr. Dudgeon, and from what I
+hear from Jim, my barman, who's got his eye on the
+girl Mrs. Eustace has, they're pretty good friends
+now, if not a bit more. I shouldn't be surprised,
+speaking as between man and man, to see her back
+at the bank again before many years are over, that is,
+if young Harding stays on here."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" Dudgeon exclaimed. "Oh!"</p>
+
+<p>"He's a fine young fellow, Mr. Dudgeon, and you
+ought to be interested in him, for he was the first to
+look after you when you were knocked over. But,
+here, won't you come in for a bit? You're in no-hurry."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am," Dudgeon replied. "I'm in town on
+business, and when I have business to do, Mr. Soden,
+I do it. See?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's a good plan."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it's a very good plan. So I'll move along.
+Don't forget to have that horse in sharp at four&mdash;I
+don't like waiting."</p>
+
+<p>He limped away down the road and Soden turned
+back into his house.</p>
+
+<p>"Old Dudgeon don't seem to have lost much of his
+sourness since he was laid out," he said to his barman
+as he passed. "He's never been inside this door since
+I've been here, and they say he hadn't been in for
+years before then. Queer old chap he is. I wonder
+if he is mixed up with the Rider?"</p>
+
+<p>Limping along, Dudgeon made straight for Smart's
+cottage and knocked at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I've come to see Mrs. Eustace," he said gruffly
+when Bessie answered.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry, sir, but Mrs. Eustace can't see anyone
+to-day. It's&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You go and tell her it's me, do you hear? Mr.
+Dudgeon of Taloona. I'll come in and sit down
+till she's ready."</p>
+
+<p>He pushed the door wide open and stepped inside.</p>
+
+<p>"But Mrs. Eustace, sir&mdash;&mdash;" Bessie began.</p>
+
+<p>"Did I speak loud enough for you to hear, or didn't
+I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then go and tell Mrs. Eustace I'm here."</p>
+
+<p>He was nearly at the door of the sitting-room
+when Mrs. Eustace, having heard his voice, reached
+the passage.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," he exclaimed. "I want to talk to you.
+Just come in here, will you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He held the door open for her and waited till
+she passed in. Then he followed and closed the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>"Just excuse me one minute," he said as he
+remained standing by the door which he suddenly
+flung open again.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so," he cried, as he saw Bessie in the
+passage. "You clear out of it. What I've got to say
+to Mrs. Eustace don't concern you, nor Jim the barman.
+Do you hear?"</p>
+
+<p>Bessie heard, and scurried.</p>
+
+<p>"It's only fair to tell you," he said, turning to Mrs.
+Eustace, "that what that girl sees and hears here
+goes to Jim the barman who, if you don't know it,
+tells Soden, and Soden tells the town. You understand?"</p>
+
+<p>He limped across the room and sat down.</p>
+
+<p>"I've come in to tell you something," he went on.
+"When I got here I heard the news. But that makes
+no difference to what I had to tell you. I can still
+tell you. But I must say something else first. You
+wouldn't stay on at Taloona when I asked you, but
+that was your business. Now this has come to you.
+I'm no hand at talking sympathy, but if you want
+anything that I can get for you it's yours&mdash;you
+understand?"</p>
+
+<p>He leaned forward, with his hands on his knees,
+looking her steadily in the face.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Mr. Dudgeon, I&mdash;I understand,"
+she said haltingly.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I thought you'd say," he remarked
+as he sat back. "I know it's a sad business for you,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>
+as it stands, and I'd rather you never had it. You're
+the first woman I've felt that way about for more
+years than you've lived. But I'm sorry for you,
+hang me if I'm not."</p>
+
+<p>"It is&mdash;good of you to say so," she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>"Still, you're young, and there are many years
+before you which won't be all sad, you may be
+sure. But now you're a widow will you come to
+Taloona?"</p>
+
+<p>She looked up quickly without replying.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care how it is. You can make it your
+home as a guest, or you can come as Mrs.
+Dudgeon."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please, Mr. Dudgeon," she exclaimed as she
+stood up. "You&mdash;I know you don't mean to hurt
+me, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She broke off and turned away.</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't said to hurt you," he said. "It was
+only to show you what I'd do for you. Seemed to me
+it was the best way to put it. I only want you to
+understand I'm with you whatever comes along. Will
+you take it that way?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know," she exclaimed impulsively, as she
+crossed over to him and laid her hand on his shoulder.
+"I know how you mean it, Mr. Dudgeon, and I
+appreciate it more than I can say. It was
+the&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The clumsy way I put it," he said, as she hesitated.
+"That's all right. Don't mind speaking out
+your mind to me&mdash;you used to pretty well when I
+shied at that physic you poured into me a few weeks
+back."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should have asked how the leg is," she said
+leaping at the opening to change the subject. "Is it
+still very painful?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it comes and goes," he replied. "Mostly
+goes."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think it would be a good thing if you
+took the doctor's advice now and went away for a
+change and a rest? It would make you all right
+again in a few months. The hard, rough life you
+lead at Taloona makes it very difficult for you to
+get up your strength after the experience you
+have had."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled grimly&mdash;his facial muscles had been so
+long strangers to anything approaching tokens of
+mirth or pleasure that they did not move easily.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose it is a bit rough out there," he said.
+"But then, you see, I'm used to a rough life&mdash;I've
+had it all my days. Is that why you wouldn't stay?
+Was it too rough for you?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked round the little sitting-room in which she
+had the furniture and nicknacks from her room
+at the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a bit of a difference I will say," he went
+on as she did not reply. "It's a flower-garden to a
+stock-yard to compare this room with the hut you
+had out at Taloona. Look here. I'll build a new
+house, build it as big as you like or as little as you
+like, and you shall furnish it and fit it up just as
+you fancy&mdash;if you'll only make it a home for
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mr. Dudgeon, I am afraid that is impossible,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>
+she said. "At the same time, I want to thank you
+very much for what you say."</p>
+
+<p>"Look here," he exclaimed. "I don't want thanks.
+You know what my life has been&mdash;I told you the
+story often enough when I was lying sick and you were
+waiting on me like an angel&mdash;oh, I mean it," he added,
+as she looked up. "Just let me say what I've got to
+say. When you came back here, and I was by myself
+again, I began to think. Somehow the old views
+didn't seem quite to fit together. There was something
+wrong somewhere and I reckon that somewhere
+was me. I've put a wrong twist on things. It
+never struck me there was more than one woman in
+the world who could do anything to make me contented.
+So I set out to make money. I made it,
+made it by the ton. And now I've got it what's the
+good of it to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is no limit to the good it may be if it is
+properly applied, Mr. Dudgeon."</p>
+
+<p>"Where will it do good?" he exclaimed. "That's
+just what I want to know. Tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"There are hospitals," she said. "And schools.
+You might found scholarships for poor students
+to&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And chapels and missions and dogs' homes&mdash;go
+on, trot out the whole list," he interrupted.
+"None of them will ever get a pennypiece out of me.
+More than half the money given to them goes to keep
+a lot of lazy, patronising officials in luxury&mdash;I know&mdash;I've
+come in contact with them when they have
+been cadging after me for subscriptions. They
+cringe till they find out there's nothing for them,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>
+and then they snarl. I've no time for that sort of
+people, no time nor money either."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I hardly know what to suggest," she said,
+"unless&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Unless what?"</p>
+
+<p>"You helped Mrs. O'Guire and her children, if
+she has any."</p>
+
+<p>His mouth went into its old hard lines, and he sat
+silent for a time.</p>
+
+<p>"It's no good talking about that," he said presently.
+"The best thing I can do for them is not
+to think about them&mdash;I'd be after them again if I do&mdash;if
+I could find them. Help them? No. I'd rather
+give the money to the Government to build gaols.
+Can't you think of anything else?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I cannot," she answered. "But I am
+still sure your money will do good if it is properly
+applied."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's it. If it's properly applied. I'm an
+old man now. How am I to apply it? There's
+only one way that I can see, and that is what I am
+going to do with it. I'm going to give it away.
+What do you think of that?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you give it away where it will do good I think
+it is a very excellent idea," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"You know that youngster at the bank, don't
+you? Young Harding, I mean."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think he is a man to be trusted?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know he is, Mr. Dudgeon."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take your word for it," he said as he stood
+up. "I'll get along and see him. You can let him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>
+know if you want anything and he'll send on word
+to me. I'll look in again next time I'm passing.
+Good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>He held out his hand, hard, knotted, and roughened
+with toil, and she placed hers in it. His fingers
+closed on hers, and he stood looking into her eyes
+till she grew uncomfortable under the scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd give everything I've got in the world," he said
+hoarsely, "for a daughter like you."</p>
+
+<p>He dropped her hand and limped quickly to the
+door, opening it and going out without looking
+back.</p>
+
+<p>Through the window she saw him pass along the
+road towards the bank, his head up in the old defiant
+way, the limp robbing his stride of much of its
+sturdiness. Without a glance at the cottage he passed
+out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>Right through the town he walked until he came
+to the bank.</p>
+
+<p>Harding, looking up at the sound of footsteps,
+was surprised to see him limping to the counter.</p>
+
+<p>"Good day, Mr. Dudgeon," he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know how to make a will?" the old man
+asked, without replying to the greeting.</p>
+
+<p>"That is more the work of a solicitor than a
+banker, Mr. Dudgeon."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know all about that. If it's going to be a
+long, muddled, complicated affair a solicitor's the
+man to go to. But that's not what I want. I want
+to make a will leaving everything I possess to just one
+person. I'm no hand with a pen, so I thought you
+might be able to do it for me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Wallace is inside; perhaps he could advise
+you better."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll see him."</p>
+
+<p>Remembering his last interview with the crotchety
+old man, Wallace was particularly circumspect when
+he met him.</p>
+
+<p>"What I want is this," Dudgeon exclaimed. "I
+want to say it in such a manner that there can be
+no questioning the thing afterwards, that is when I'm
+gone, you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"I understand," Wallace replied.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to leave everything I possess to one person.
+If that is written on a sheet of paper and I sign it,
+isn't that enough?"</p>
+
+<p>"If your signature is witnessed by two persons."</p>
+
+<p>"Then go ahead. Write it out for me. You and
+this young man can be witnesses."</p>
+
+<p>"It is an unusual thing for the Bank to do, Mr.
+Dudgeon; but if you really wish it, of course we
+shall be only too happy to oblige you. Don't you
+think Mr. Gale&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No," the old man snapped. "I've finished with
+Gale."</p>
+
+<p>"Then will you come into my room and we will
+do the best we can for you."</p>
+
+<p>Wallace drew up a simple form of a will and read
+it through aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"I have left the name blank," he said. "If this
+expresses what you wish, you can fill in the name and
+sign it, either before Harding and myself or two other
+people."</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon took it and read it through again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That'll do," he said. He put it on the table in
+front of Harding. "Fill in Mrs. Eustace's name&mdash;I
+don't know it," he added.</p>
+
+<p>Harding wrote the name in the blank space, the
+name of one who, in another minute, would rank
+amongst the greatest heiresses of the world.</p>
+
+<p>"That is the full name," he said as he handed
+back the document to Dudgeon.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at it.</p>
+
+<p>"Jessie, is it?" he said. "Jessie Eustace, n&eacute;e
+Spence. There is no chance of a mistake being made,
+is there? Hadn't you better add whose wife she
+was?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you wish it."</p>
+
+<p>"And say where she is living now, and where she
+came from before she came here. I don't want this
+to go wrong. I want to make sure she will get everything."</p>
+
+<p>When the additions were made he read the whole
+document through once more.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that seems to fix it," he said. "Give me a
+pen."</p>
+
+<p>The signature affixed, and witnessed, he looked
+from one to the other.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take your word to keep the matter secret
+till I'm gone," he said. "I don't feel like dying just
+yet, but one never knows, and, in the meantime, I
+don't want this known. She don't know, and if she
+does, it will only be through one of you two
+talking."</p>
+
+<p>"You may rest assured, Mr. Dudgeon, that both
+Mr. Harding and myself will respect your confidence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>
+and hold the matter absolutely secret," Wallace
+replied.</p>
+
+<p>"That's good enough," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Turning to Harding, he added, "I'll leave this in
+your charge. If I go, see that she gets it. Good
+day."</p>
+
+<p>He was at the door when Wallace spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you not stay and have some refreshment,
+after your long drive in?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon looked over his shoulder, with his hand
+on the door-handle.</p>
+
+<p>"That's all I want from you," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"There is one other matter," Harding exclaimed.
+"If this will ever has to be used, we have no information
+what property you are leaving."</p>
+
+<p>Dudgeon let go the handle and faced round.</p>
+
+<p>"Young man," he said, "you've got a head on
+you. Just sit down and I'll tell you, and you can
+write them down."</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the two together, Wallace went to the
+outer office.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad he's gone," Dudgeon remarked.
+"This don't concern him."</p>
+
+<p>Then he reeled off a list of properties, securities,
+cash deposits, and other possessions, dazzling in
+their value and variety.</p>
+
+<p>The name of a firm of lawyers in a southern city
+was added.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the lot," he said unconcernedly. "I
+needn't tell you to see she has her rights. Give me
+your hand, my lad. I hope she shares it with
+you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Without another word he was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Harding was still running his eye over the list of
+properties Dudgeon had dictated when he heard
+Wallace call.</p>
+
+<p>"All right. We'll come in," Wallace added, and
+appeared with Durham at his heels.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know this?" Durham asked, as he held
+out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"My watch! Where on earth did you find it?"
+Harding cried.</p>
+
+<p>"It is yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's the one which disappeared from under my
+pillow the night the bank was robbed."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you found anything more?" Wallace asked
+breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"All the money and a lot of jewellery. I would
+like Mr. Harding to come along with me to-night
+to the place where I have it hidden. We can bring
+it in quietly without anyone knowing. But till then,
+don't let this be seen, and don't breathe a word of
+what I have told you. Now I've got the money
+I want to make sure of the man."</p>
+
+<p>Wallace slapped him warmly on the back.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a marvel, Durham. I knew you'd do it
+somehow, but I'm bothered if I could see how.
+May I wire to head office?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not till to-night, Mr. Wallace. When the stuff
+is handed over to you will be time enough."</p>
+
+<p>"How about Mr. Dudgeon's money?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's there, too."</p>
+
+<p>"He's in town. Will you tell him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Not a word, Mr. Wallace. You are the only people
+I mention it to; not even Brennan will be told about
+it till it's here."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you know more about these things than I
+do, so your word's law. But I shall be glad to let
+the head office know&mdash;I want to have the general
+manager's authority to do what I told you was
+going to be done."</p>
+
+<p>Durham smiled in answer. So did he want the
+general manager to authorise what was to be the
+news he wished to give Mrs. Burke on the morrow.
+With five thousand pounds behind him he anticipated
+less difficulty in persuading her to postpone her
+intended return to Ireland, postpone it long enough,
+at all events, for her to go, not as Mrs. Burke, but as
+Mrs. Durham.</p>
+
+<p>He stood at the door chatting to Wallace before
+going on to the station, when Dudgeon rattled past
+in his old buggy drawn by a borrowed horse.</p>
+
+<p>He did not look towards the bank as he passed.</p>
+
+<p>"If I told him I suppose he'd scowl at me and
+say, 'Oh, have you?'" Durham exclaimed as he
+watched the crazy old vehicle disappear along the
+road.</p>
+
+<p>"You are sure his money is there too?" Wallace
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite."</p>
+
+<p>"That's curious."</p>
+
+<p>"Why? It was obviously stolen by the same
+man who robbed the bank, and naturally they took
+it to the same spot."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you any idea who the men were&mdash;or rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>
+the man, for I suppose there is only one now to be
+considered?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is so," Durham answered. "Only one&mdash;and
+he may be&mdash;anybody."</p>
+
+<p>"You have no suspicions?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want any. If I begin suspecting different
+persons I may miss the real individual. As matters
+stand, I know where, sooner or later, I shall meet him
+under conditions which will identify him as the
+man I want. The trap is set and the bird will be
+caught. That is all I can say."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you heard what they are saying in the
+town?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard a good deal one way and another,
+but not to-day, as I have been away since dawn.
+Is it anything special?"</p>
+
+<p>"Someone started the yarn last night, so Gale told
+me. There's an idea that old Mr. Dudgeon is at the
+back of the whole affair; that he hired the man
+they call the Rider to rob the bank in the first
+instance, so as to prevent the sale of Waroona
+Downs being completed. Eustace is supposed to
+have been bribed to join the conspiracy."</p>
+
+<p>"That's rather an ingenious theory. Whose is
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"One of the men in the town; Gale did not
+mention his name. But he has evolved a very
+workable theory&mdash;at least to my mind."</p>
+
+<p>"Let me hear it all," Durham said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, when the bank had been robbed, and the
+second lot of gold was hurried forward in time to
+save the situation, one part of the scheme failed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>
+for the sale of the property was completed. The
+Rider and his mate&mdash;Eustace, as is generally believed&mdash;went
+out to Taloona to settle up with the old
+man. They found you there and, to blind you as to
+the real character of Dudgeon, they pretended to
+make him a prisoner. Then you showed fight,
+Dudgeon was shot by the bullet intended for you,
+the lamp was upset, and the place set on fire just as
+the troopers I sent arrived on the scene."</p>
+
+<p>"That sounds all right as far as it goes. Is there
+any more?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. Dudgeon being laid up delayed the
+settlement and the pair had to wait&mdash;every time up
+to last night that the white horses have been seen
+was on the Taloona road, you may remember, which
+adds colour to the theory. Then they got tired of
+waiting and quarrelled between themselves, with
+the result that one of them got killed. The general
+idea is that they quarrelled over the division of the
+spoil, and, seeing what you have discovered to-day,
+I am inclined to agree with it. Last night's escapade
+was sheer bravado to mock at you and Brennan.
+What do you think of the idea?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's all right, as far as it goes. When my
+man walks into the trap waiting for him I may be
+able to tell you whether it is the correct solution,
+but, for the present, I should neither accept nor
+reject it."</p>
+
+<p>"That is all you have to say about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is all; and now I must get along to the
+station. I'll be back in an hour or so to tell Harding
+where to meet me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was just on sunset when he returned to arrange
+for Harding to go out with him about midnight.
+With Harding and Wallace he was standing at the
+private entrance of the bank when, with a clatter,
+there dashed down the road the horse and buggy
+in which Dudgeon had driven by during the
+afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>The horse was galloping with the reins trailing
+behind it, the splash-board was smashed and hanging
+loose, striking the horse at every stride and adding
+to its panic.</p>
+
+<p>Durham and Harding rushed out to stop the
+runaway. It swerved to the edge of the road, the
+buggy overbalanced and rolled over, the shafts
+snapped, and the horse, breaking free, raced through
+the town.</p>
+
+<p>"Look!" Harding cried. "What has happened?"</p>
+
+<p>On the seat of the vehicle was an ugly red splash,
+while the floor was smothered with blood.</p>
+
+<p>"Send along to Brennan to follow me, will you?"
+Durham exclaimed as he sprang to his horse, which
+was standing at the door of the bank, mounted it,
+and spurred away along the road the runaway had
+come.</p>
+
+<p>Four miles away on the Taloona road he found
+Dudgeon.</p>
+
+<p>The old man lay in a heap in the middle of the
+road, riddled with bullet wounds, any one of which
+would have proved fatal.</p>
+
+<p>There were abundant signs of a fierce struggle.
+As Durham read the indications, an attack had
+been made upon him while he was driving along<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>
+He had been shot and had struggled from the vehicle,
+probably returning the fire, for there was the mark
+where another man had fallen and added another
+red stain to the ground. Then the two had closed
+and, in the contest which ensued, Dudgeon had gone
+down, his assailant venting his mad rage by firing
+bullet after bullet into the prostrate form.</p>
+
+<p>While he was still examining the marks Durham
+was joined by Brennan and half a dozen of the
+townsmen who had ridden out in obedience to
+Harding's warning. Durham drew Brennan aside.</p>
+
+<p>"I only have my revolver with me," he said.
+"Give me your carbine and what cartridges you
+have. I must get away on his tracks before any of
+the men lose their heads and ruin the chance of
+capture by smothering them."</p>
+
+<p>"Give Brennan what help you can, will you?"
+he called out to the men who stood by their horses
+looking, horror-stricken, at the lifeless form of the
+old man.</p>
+
+<p>Mounting his horse he sped away. For a time he
+watched the track of a horse which had galloped just
+off the road. It had evidently lacked a firm hand
+on the bridle, for it seemed to have taken its own
+direction.</p>
+
+<p>The rider was wounded. Of that Durham was
+certain.</p>
+
+<p>Under such circumstances where would he
+go?</p>
+
+<p>As Durham turned his horse into the bush, making
+for the range where the little cave was situated, he
+answered his own question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Riding at topmost speed, he reasoned as he rode.
+The other man had at least two hours' start. With
+such a lead he could easily reach the cave first if he
+could ride steadily. But he was wounded, and in
+that lay Durham's hope of getting there before him.</p>
+
+<p>The light was waning by the time the commencement
+of the foothills was reached. At the bottom
+of the gully lying at the foot of a ridge across which
+he had to ride, Durham gave his horse a spell. The
+top of the ridge rose steep and bare. As he looked
+towards it, estimating which was the better direction
+to take to get to the cave, he heard the sounds of a
+horse walking.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, on the sky-line, immediately above
+him, he saw a horse and rider. There was just light
+enough for him to distinguish the form of the man.</p>
+
+<p>He was clad in grey, the jacket open, his hat in his
+hand. He was a bearded man&mdash;a man with a yellow
+beard.</p>
+
+<p>It was the Rider!</p>
+
+<p>Even as Durham watched, the man saw him, saw
+him and swung his horse round so sharply it set back
+on its haunches.</p>
+
+<p>In another moment he would be flying away
+through the gathering gloom, away into the broken
+fastnesses of the range, away, perhaps, for all time,
+from capture.</p>
+
+<p>The horse was recovering itself. Durham threw
+his carbine forward and, as the horse reared at the
+pain of the spurs driven into its side, he fired.</p>
+
+<p>Amid the echoes of the report there came a sharp
+scream of agony.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Durham leaped to his saddle and spurred his
+horse up the steep slope.</p>
+
+<p>When he reached the summit only the marks of
+the flying horse's hoofs showed which way the man
+had gone.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>UNMASKED</h3>
+
+
+<p>The silvery sheen of the rising moon glittered on the
+surface of the pool and lay over the sombre-foliaged
+bush as Durham came out upon the top of the bluff
+above the Rider's cave.</p>
+
+<p>From the moment he reached the ridge to find
+only the marks made by the plunging horse he
+had raced to get there first. Down the sharp slopes
+of the gullies, across the dry, rock-strewn bed of the
+mountain-streams, up the opposite steeps, with
+never a care for the risks he ran, he kept his horse
+at its topmost speed, sparing neither spur nor lash
+to urge it along. There was no time to choose the
+easy paths, no chance of picking his way; every
+moment was of value, for he knew how the wounded
+outlaw would make desperate haste to get to the
+shelter of his haven.</p>
+
+<p>The gloom of the bush ere the moon rose added to
+his difficulties. With no landmark to serve as a
+guide he had to rely absolutely upon his instinctive
+sense of locality, and kept steadily in the one direction,
+although that meant riding over the rugged
+ground, barred by tumbled boulders and thickly
+growing trees, which formed the almost precipitous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>
+sides of the gullies. At any time a fall was possible;
+he carried his life in his hands and knew it; but the
+ride was a race against odds, and there was no time
+to heed.</p>
+
+<p>He was breasting the rise of what he believed to be
+the last of the ridges he would have to cross, when
+the laboured breathing of his horse told him it was
+almost done. Leaning forward in his saddle, he
+patted it on the neck and spoke to it as a man who
+has realised the companionship between himself
+and a favourite horse will do. Responding to the
+encouragement, it mounted to the summit of the
+ridge and quickened its pace as it felt it was on level
+ground again. But where the other ridges had
+been flat on the top, this one was little more than a
+razor-back. No sooner was the ascent completed
+than the descent began. The horse caught in its
+stride to steady itself, tripped, stumbled, and came
+down. Durham was flung over its head like a stone
+from a catapult.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately he came to the ground on the broad
+of his back, though with such force that he was
+momentarily stunned. His horse picked itself up
+and stood trembling and panting long before he
+was able to scramble to his feet. Even when he
+did so his head was spinning and he could barely
+stand.</p>
+
+<p>With unsteady steps he went to his horse and
+took hold of the bridle. To attempt to ride it further
+was obviously out of the question, and he led it
+slowly down to the bottom of the slope, tethering it
+securely to a tree in the shelter of the gully. Then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>
+pulling himself together, he set off up the opposite
+slope on foot.</p>
+
+<p>His head was still swimming from the concussion
+of his fall, and into it there came the humming he
+had experienced after his adventure at Taloona.
+It made him so dizzy that he sank down on a boulder,
+resting his head on his hands until the humming
+and throbbing should pass. As he sat there came
+a sound to his ears which made him start to his feet,
+forgetful of the giddiness, forgetful of everything
+save the sound and all that it signified.</p>
+
+<p>Through the silence of the bush came the measured
+tread of a walking horse.</p>
+
+<p>It was evidently crossing the gully below, for,
+as he listened, the pace quickened to a trot and then
+to a canter and then became suddenly faint and
+muffled.</p>
+
+<p>In an instant Durham read the significance of it.
+The horse had crossed the gully on to level ground
+and, urged by its rider, had cantered out of hearing.
+Exactly such a thing would happen were the gully
+he had crossed the one which came out on to the
+level sandy margin of the pool.</p>
+
+<p>The realisation sent a chill through him. The rise
+up which he was climbing must be the ridge which
+formed the bluff above the cave. If he were not over
+it quickly, the Rider would be the first at the cave
+and Durham's scheme for his capture defeated.</p>
+
+<p>The thought drove the last vestige of dizziness
+from his brain. He faced the slope and forced his
+way through the tangled undergrowth until he
+came to the top and saw the moonlight gleaming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>
+on the surface of the pool and illuminating with its
+silvery sheen the open space at the foot.</p>
+
+<p>There was no sign of the horse he expected to see,
+and no sound came from the cave. With his carbine
+ready, he crept slowly and silently down until he was
+at the mouth. A stray moonbeam fell upon the
+spot where he had seen the clothes on his former
+visit. The spot was bare.</p>
+
+<p>He was about to step into the cavern when he
+heard the distant tread of the horse. Quickly drawing
+back, he hid himself behind a clump of shrubs which
+sheltered him, while leaving him a clear view in
+front up to the line of bushes stretching from the
+bank to the water's edge. There he waited, while
+the sound of the horse approaching became more
+and more distinct.</p>
+
+<p>Presently it was so clear he could hear the snapping
+of the twigs of the undergrowth as they were trampled
+down, and he levelled his carbine so as to cover the
+man immediately he and his horse emerged from the
+line of bushes. But when the animal appeared,
+for the moment Durham thought it was riderless.
+Only when it reached the middle of the open space
+and was almost directly below him did he see the
+man, lying forward over the withers, with his arms
+weakly clinging to the horse's neck and his legs
+swaying limply as they dangled with the feet out of
+the stirrups.</p>
+
+<p>Of its own accord the horse stopped. The man painfully
+pushed himself up until he was able to turn
+his head and look from side to side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He was scarcely ten yards from Durham, and the
+clear light of the moon revealed the face as distinctly
+as though it were day. The close-cropped hair, fair
+almost to whiteness, the eyebrows and eyelashes
+of the same hue; the general form of the face showing
+above the beard were incongruously, yet elusively,
+familiar, while the pallor of the cheeks and the
+anguish of the eyes told of the terrible injury the
+man had sustained.</p>
+
+<p>He was trying to push himself up so as to sit in
+the saddle. Only his arms seemed to have any
+strength, for the legs still dangled limply and the
+fingers clutched the horse's mane convulsively as
+the body swayed. The moonlight fell full upon the
+face, glistening on the beads of moisture which stood
+out on the skin.</p>
+
+<p>A twinge of pity passed through Durham's heart
+as he watched the agony of the stricken wretch. The
+effort to maintain his balance was more than the
+weakened muscles could stand. A deep groan broke
+from his lips as his arms gave way; his head fell
+and he plunged forward, slipping over the horse's
+shoulder and coming head first to the ground, where
+he lay in a limp, dishevelled heap.</p>
+
+<p>Freed from its burden, the animal stepped forward
+and moved to a tree where it had evidently been
+accustomed to find its feed, for it snorted impatiently
+and shook itself as it sniffed round the trunk. But
+Durham had no eyes for it; he was watching, with
+fascinated intentness, the figure lying motionless
+on the ground.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Slipping from behind the sheltering shrubs, he
+approached the man with noiseless steps. There
+was no sign of life in the figure which lay as it had
+fallen, but across the lower part of the back the
+clothes were stained with blood. A bullet had struck
+him almost on the spine, and the dangling limbs
+were explained. The shot had paralysed them.</p>
+
+<p>Durham stooped over him. The faintest flicker of
+breathing showed he was still alive. He lay on his
+face, his arms out-flung, his legs twisted. Drawing
+the arms together, Durham slipped a strap round
+them above the elbows so as to hold them secure.
+Then he partly lifted him from the ground and
+dragged him to the mouth of the cave, where he sat
+him with his back against the rock.</p>
+
+<p>The head drooped forward. In his waist-belt there
+was a revolver-pouch which Durham, on removal,
+found to contain a revolver of heavy calibre loaded
+in all chambers.</p>
+
+<p>Now that he was unarmed and secured, Durham
+knelt beside him to try and revive him. He gently
+raised the head and rested it against the stone,
+holding it steady with one hand while with the other
+he lifted off the false beard.</p>
+
+<p>As the disguise came away and left the face fully
+exposed, Durham's heart stood still. With a cry he
+sprang to his feet, staggering back to stand, with
+clenching hands and throbbing temples, staring
+blankly at the white, drawn face upturned to
+his.</p>
+
+<p>The humming roar was again in his ears, a trembling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>
+seized his limbs, his brain reeled and the scene spun
+before his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my God!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the eyelids lifted and a spasm of pain contracted
+the pallid face. The glance rested for a
+moment on Durham as a faint wan smile flickered
+round the corners of the bloodless lips and the eyelids
+drooped again.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of his own voice in a hoarse, strained
+whisper jarred on Durham's ears.</p>
+
+<p>"You!" he gasped. "<i>You!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The eyes opened once more.</p>
+
+<p>In a weak, wavering tone came disjointed words.</p>
+
+<p>"You said&mdash;you&mdash;would shoot him&mdash;like a dog&mdash;and
+I told you&mdash;it would&mdash;kill&mdash;me if you&mdash;did."</p>
+
+<p>As white as his captive, Durham stood dumbfounded.</p>
+
+<p>The feeling of horror which had come upon him
+when first he recognised the face overwhelmed him.
+His heart went dead and his brain numbed. All the
+roseate dreams of his romance turned to dull grey
+leaden grief to flaunt and mock him.</p>
+
+<p>Like the panoramic vision said to come to the
+minds of the drowning, the incidents on which his
+love had dwelt in cherishing delight passed before
+him. He saw again the sparkling eyes which had
+filled him with such gladness when first that love
+had come to him; saw the picture made by the
+wonderfully graceful form leaning against the
+verandah at Waroona Downs, bathed in the soft,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>
+romantic light of the new-born moon; saw the
+pleading face turned to him as the gentle voice spoke
+endearing words to gain a passing favour; saw once
+more that fleeting, taunting vision on which he had
+built so much despite the warning to beware of the
+vagaries of a delirium-swayed brain.</p>
+
+<p>The visions passed. Before him, crippled and
+ghastly in the last agony of life, lay the author of
+this diabolical outrage upon every sensibility of his
+manhood.</p>
+
+<p>A rage of blind, ungovernable fury swept over him.
+The primitive instinct of revenge, the savage longing
+to wreak, while there was yet time, a last fierce
+vengeance on the one who had betrayed him, filled
+his being. With a cry which ended in a curse he
+sprang to where his carbine lay, seized it by the
+barrel, and swung it round his head as he turned
+back upon his prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>A gasping sigh came from the prostrate form,
+and the head rolled lolling to one side.</p>
+
+<p>The carbine fell from Durham's hands and he
+stood motionless, looking down at the figure from
+which all signs of life had gone.</p>
+
+<p>As quickly as it had come the paroxysm of rage
+left him.</p>
+
+<p>The man was dying, if not dead, and the hideous
+riddle of the mystery still unsolved!</p>
+
+<p>He must not die! He must not pass beyond the
+reach of human knowledge with the truth of that
+tragic drama in which he had played the leading part
+unrevealed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Durham rushed to the pool, filled his cap with
+water and came back with it. Lifting up the drooping
+head, he moistened the nerveless lips and bathed
+the cold temples and pallid cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"In the&mdash;cave&mdash;rum."</p>
+
+<p>The whisper was just loud enough for him to hear.
+Leaning the head once more against the stone,
+Durham staggered to the cave. A dark heap lay
+on the ground in the shadow. He struck a
+match.</p>
+
+<p>Numbed as his brain was by the revelation that
+had come to him, he shrank back at what he
+saw.</p>
+
+<p>A pile of woman's clothes; the skirt and jacket
+which had been impressed upon his memory only a
+few hours before under circumstances which form,
+perhaps, the one occasion when a man heeds and remembers
+what a woman wears; the jaunty hat
+which had exerted so great a spell upon the masculine
+population of the district, and beside it, the most
+horrible of all, a wig of luxuriant coal-black hair
+from which the subtle perfume that had so often
+charmed him still floated.</p>
+
+<p>With hands which shook so that he could scarcely
+hold it, he took the bottle of rum, bearing Soden's
+label, from the ground beside the clothes, and hastened
+to the mouth of the cave.</p>
+
+<p>In the cold moonlight the figure lay to all appearances
+dead.</p>
+
+<p>Durham tore open the front of the shirt and pushed
+in his hand to feel if the heart still beat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>With the moaning cry of a heart-broken man he
+reeled back. Then, in a wild fervour born of
+his soul's despair, he fell on his knees beside the
+prostrate form and tenderly drew the lolling head to
+his breast and moistened the blue lips with the
+spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, speak! Speak to me! Nora, speak to me and
+tell me," he wailed.</p>
+
+<p>He reached to take her hands and remembered
+how he had bound the arms. Quickly he set them
+free and chafed the limp fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"Rum&mdash;quick&mdash;drink," came in a wavering
+whisper, and he poured some of the potent spirit
+between the lips.</p>
+
+<p>Holding her in his arms, with her head resting
+on his shoulder, he waited, listening to her faint
+breathing.</p>
+
+<p>"A little more and&mdash;I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She was able to raise her hand to steady the
+bottle which he held. Then her head fell over again
+and she lay inert.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his face to watch her. In a momentary
+fit of remorse and grief he pressed his lips to
+hers.</p>
+
+<p>One of her arms stole round his neck and held him
+to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my darling, my darling, how I have loved
+you," he heard her whisper. "Why did you come
+to me so late?"</p>
+
+<p>Like a chill of death the words went through his
+brain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Tell me&mdash;everything," he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;before I die&mdash;if I can."</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" he said. "What is your real
+name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nora O'Guire. I am Kitty Lambton's youngest
+daughter. I told you her story."</p>
+
+<p>"And Patsy?"</p>
+
+<p>"He was my father."</p>
+
+<p>"Was?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He is at the house&mdash;dead&mdash;Dudgeon&mdash;shot
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"Who was it robbed the bank?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dad and I."</p>
+
+<p>"And Eustace?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. He was innocent."</p>
+
+<p>A shudder of horror passed over him. The woman
+whom he had loved with such an abandon, this
+woman whom he held even then in his arms&mdash;he
+shrank away from her, letting her fall against the
+stone as the grim, sordid horror of the tragedy she
+was revealing grew plain before him.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, don't leave me&mdash;don't&mdash;don't," she moaned.
+"Let me die in your arms&mdash;let me&mdash;oh, I love you,
+love you beyond all else. I will tell you everything&mdash;everything&mdash;only
+still hold me."</p>
+
+<p>"How did Eustace die?" His voice rang hard
+and pitiless.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Give me this one last joy on earth. I am
+not all bad. Don't deny me now. Hold me in your
+arms, beloved. I had no faith in man or God till
+I met you, and you were good to me&mdash;in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>
+coach&mdash;have you forgotten? Don't desert me&mdash;now."</p>
+
+<p>Like a jagged claw rending harp-strings the phrases
+jarred and jangled every chord within his being.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, why&mdash;why&mdash;&mdash;?" he cried. "Why did
+you come to this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hold me and I will tell you."</p>
+
+<p>He knelt by her side, taking her head again
+upon his shoulder while she clutched at his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"My strength is going&mdash;more rum&mdash;quick."</p>
+
+<p>He held the bottle to her mouth in silence, loving,
+loathing, pitying, and condemning.</p>
+
+<p>"Now. Don't stop me. Don't interrupt&mdash;only
+listen."</p>
+
+<p>She lay still for a few minutes, gathering the last
+of her energy. Presently she began.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad, O'Guire that is, was driven to stealing.
+Mother too. All the other little ones died but me.
+Dad trained me. Write to the police in London and
+ask about Nora O'Guire&mdash;there are lots of other
+names, but they know me under all as Nora O'Guire.
+Then mother died. She made me swear not to rest
+till we had revenged her on Dudgeon. We came out,
+Dad and I, came out to find him. I bluffed the
+bank."</p>
+
+<p>"But the deeds you had with you&mdash;were they
+forgeries?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I stole them. From a solicitor's office in
+Dublin&mdash;he probably does not know they are missing.
+Write to him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Where are they now?"</p>
+
+<p>"In the cellar under the house&mdash;in a stone jar.
+His name is on them. The bank-notes are there too.
+The gold is in a&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I have found that."</p>
+
+<p>She raised her head.</p>
+
+<p>"You found it? When?"</p>
+
+<p>"Early to-day. Before I met you."</p>
+
+<p>The head fell back. "I am glad," she said. "You
+are the first man to beat me&mdash;but I love you."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me how you managed to deceive everyone
+as you did."</p>
+
+<p>"I acted. Once, for a time, when things got too
+hot for us, I went on the stage. It threw the 'tecks
+off the scent. I wanted to stay at it, for I liked it,
+but mother was mad to ruin Dudgeon, and Dad
+could not keep straight. So we began again. I
+wore a wig and made up. You'll find it in the
+cave."</p>
+
+<p>"I have seen it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if I could only have married you," she
+gasped. "If I had only met you earlier!"</p>
+
+<p>"But about Eustace," he said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'll tell you. I went to the bank&mdash;like this&mdash;and
+saw Eustace. I slipped into the kitchen and
+drugged the tea. I knew they all took it. Then
+Dad and I broke in. It was quite easy. I climbed
+up the verandah, opened the back door, and let Dad
+in. They were all dead asleep. We took the keys and
+cleared the safe. Every place was locked up again
+and left just as we found it. Dad went out, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>
+when I had locked the back door I went over the
+verandah again."</p>
+
+<p>"How did you get the gold away?"</p>
+
+<p>"The buggy was in the bush. We whitewashed
+the horses as a blind. We knew they hated the
+colour up here. It puzzled everyone."</p>
+
+<p>"But when did you discover this place?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dad knew it in the old days. He and mother
+used to meet here in secret&mdash;there is a way across to
+the ford&mdash;the water gets shallow in one place&mdash;it
+was there Dad shot&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her voice caught and she turned appealing eyes
+to him as she struggled for breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me&mdash;rum," she muttered, and he rested her
+head on his arm, while he slowly poured some of the
+spirit between her lips. For a time she lay so still he
+thought she had gone, till there came a wavering
+sigh and she moved her head slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"It was&mdash;nearly&mdash;over&mdash;&mdash;" she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"About Eustace?" he said. "Can you tell me
+now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I'll try," she answered. "Don't leave
+me&mdash;stay with me till the end, won't you? Give me&mdash;your
+word."</p>
+
+<p>"I will stay," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>The head resting on his arm turned until the eyes
+looked straight into his. They were filled with the
+gentle light he had seen in them when, through the
+momentary lifting of the veil of unconsciousness,
+he had been enabled to catch a glimpse of her real
+nature.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll tell you&mdash;everything," she whispered.
+"We had to fix suspicion on someone. When I saw
+him he had no nerve. I offered to shelter him. He
+agreed, and I let him out of the window, and pretended
+to go on talking to him all the time he was getting
+away into the bush. You know what happened
+then."</p>
+
+<p>"At the bank? Yes. But what became of
+Eustace?"</p>
+
+<p>"He was at the house. He was there the night
+you came. He nearly gave himself up. He was
+coming when he heard you say who you were. So
+Dad knocked him on the head and put him in the
+cellar."</p>
+
+<p>"While I was there?" Durham exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. When you went to see to your horse. Then
+later we had to trick you. Dad put something in the
+tea like I did at the bank, only it would have killed you
+all he put in. He wanted to. He wanted to after, and
+tried to, but I&mdash;I wouldn't let him&mdash;because I loved
+you. But I made you sleep that night&mdash;Dad had to
+make fresh tea, and I put the stuff in. We watched
+you go off on the verandah while you were smoking,
+and then tied you up. It was hard to make you wake,
+but we had to&mdash;Dad had taken Eustace's handkerchief&mdash;we
+knew you would be convinced if you
+found it&mdash;after seeing me&mdash;and we&mdash;we shot your
+horse, and made the others bolt."</p>
+
+<p>"But afterwards? What happened to Eustace
+afterwards?" he asked as she stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"We had to keep him there, then, because he knew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>
+He was there in the cellar the night you came from
+Taloona. You heard him cry out. So Dad brought
+him here and tied him up. He was here all the time
+you were at the house. The evening after you saw
+Brennan, when you talked to me on the verandah,
+Dad came and found him escaping. Dad killed
+him. He had to. He shammed drunk next day,
+so that you should not suspect him. There is a
+short cut from the house, and Dad took it after
+you left, and got to the ford before you. That's
+all."</p>
+
+<p>"When Taloona was stuck up&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Dad and I," she said. "We didn't know you
+were there. You hit me, and I&mdash;oh, darling, it broke
+my heart when I saw you fall, but I had to. That is
+why I took you away to nurse you. I kissed you when
+you didn't know."</p>
+
+<p>"The other night&mdash;when you rode through the
+town?"</p>
+
+<p>She lay silent and he repeated the question.</p>
+
+<p>"I was&mdash;half drunk. So was Dad. We did it out
+of devilment. They were all such fools&mdash;all but you&mdash;and
+you nearly shot me. The bullet grazed my
+horse. You will see the cut on the shoulder. You
+nearly caught Dad. He was in the police-station
+when you got back. He cracked every crib in the
+place&mdash;I wasn't in that."</p>
+
+<p>"Where did he hide?" Durham asked.</p>
+
+<p>"In the yard&mdash;where Eustace was&mdash;you never
+looked there."</p>
+
+<p>A convulsive shudder ran through her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But to-night&mdash;where were you going to-night
+when I met you?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"To kill Dudgeon. Dad only just got home. I
+could die happy if I only had."</p>
+
+<p>Again her frame quivered, and she was racked
+with a fierce struggle to get her breath. She lay
+against him, her head resting in the hollow of
+his arm, her eyes closed, and her mouth twitching.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell him," she whispered between her panting
+gasps. "Tell him&mdash;I&mdash;tried&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He touched her hands lying limply in her lap;
+they were icy cold. Her head was growing heavy
+on his arm and her lips were turning blue. He
+moistened them once more with rum as her breathing
+became almost imperceptible.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment her eyes opened and looked into his
+with an expression of wonderful tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>"Dudgeon is already dead," he whispered
+gently.</p>
+
+<p>She started and tried to sit up, but could only
+raise her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Dead," she whispered. "Dead!"</p>
+
+<p>Then, as though the news galvanised her waning
+strength into one last tumultuous effort, she flung
+out her arms and sat up, with wide-open eyes staring
+fixedly into space.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad! Dad!" she cried. "You did&mdash;you did,
+Dad. Oh, thank&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her arms fell, her head lolled forward, and her
+body lurched against Durham as, with a broken,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>
+gasping sigh, she collapsed into a nerveless, jointless
+thing.</p>
+
+<p>He bent his head and placed his ear to her breast
+above her heart. There was not the faintest throb,
+and he took his arm from around her. As he did so
+she rolled over, her face upturned towards the moon,
+at which her wide-open eyes stared and her mouth
+gaped.</p>
+
+<p>The Rider of Waroona was dead!</p>
+
+<p>With bowed head and aching heart Durham bent
+over her.</p>
+
+<p>All the love of his nature which had lain dormant
+for so long had gone out to this woman, enfolding her,
+idealising her, until she became to him the completement
+of his being, the one incentive for all which was
+noble within him, the mainspring of his life, the lode-stone
+of his ambitions. To have won her would
+have been his dearest and proudest achievement;
+to have had her love would have made existence for
+him a never-ending stream of happiness and joy.</p>
+
+<p>As a sun new risen from the night she had come into
+his life, bringing light and warmth and peace where
+there had been only coldness and unrest. So he had
+dreamed of her only that morning; so she had
+appeared to him only a few hours since when, at her
+bidding, trusting her, believing in her, loving her,
+he had turned his back on his duty&mdash;betrayed.</p>
+
+<p>Resentment at the treachery warred with his love
+and tinged his sorrow with bitterness. How she had
+played with him, tricking him, fooling him, outwitting
+him&mdash;and yet loving him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The memory of the last fond look of lingering
+tenderness which had been in her eyes ere he told
+her Dudgeon was dead came to him. Why had he told
+her that? Why had he not let her die as she was
+then, with the gentle side of her nature dominating
+her, filled with the one soft impulse she perhaps
+had ever known?</p>
+
+<p>The words had slipped from his tongue almost
+before he knew, and on the instant there had come
+back to her the overshadowing influence which
+had warped her life for evil even before she was
+born.</p>
+
+<p>By his hand she had died; by his words her last
+moments had been filled with the blackness of insensate
+hate.</p>
+
+<p>Before the mute condemnation of that self-accusing
+thought the bitterness which had been in his
+mind against her dissipated. Whatever ills she had
+done to him, he had done greater to her. Whatever
+ills she had done to humanity were the outcome
+not of her own nature, but of the circumstances
+and conditions which had governed her from the
+moment she was born. All that she had said during
+the last evening he spent at her house recurred
+to him and a new significance dawned into the
+words.</p>
+
+<p>She had spoken of herself, pleaded for herself,
+striven to rouse his sympathy and compassion,
+so that, within the sombre barrenness of her ill-starred
+life, one spot there might be where the
+loving kindness of human charity had fallen and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>
+made it bright. He remembered how he had answered
+her&mdash;coldly, sternly, crushing down her awakening
+soul with the same callous indifference which had
+always met her. With the pitiless weight of a
+loveless life, what wonder she was warped, distorted,
+marred? More sinned against than sinning, he had
+no right nor will to blame her&mdash;only the love she
+had inspired in him remained, to fill his heart with
+sadness and drag it down with the hopeless desolation
+of vain regrets.</p>
+
+<p>For she had gone from him even as she revealed
+the love she bore him, gone into the darkness by
+his own act, gone&mdash;his throat grew hard until he
+choked as the thought came to him&mdash;gone from a
+greater degradation he, by the merciless irony of
+fate, would have had to fasten upon her.</p>
+
+<p>Better, a thousand times better for her, that she
+should be as she was than that she should have lived
+to face the doom awaiting her&mdash;better for her&mdash;and
+better for him.</p>
+
+<p>It was nothing to him now that the story she had
+told showed her, by all the laws of humanity, to be
+unworthy. Black as she had painted herself, the
+love she had inspired shone through the blackness,
+revealing only that which lay beyond, the radiant
+purpose, unmeasurable by human standards, transcending
+human ken.</p>
+
+<p>He knelt again by her side, taking her cold hands
+in his and placing them upon her breast, closing
+the staring eyes, composing the wry-drooped mouth,
+straightening the twisted limbs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my love, my love," he wailed. "Sleep on in
+peace. Sleep on till I shall come to you. Wait for
+me, for I must stay awhile yet to shield and shelter
+you so that none may know the secret of your
+life."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE ASHES OF SILENCE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Wallace and Harding were seeing all was secure
+in the bank before retiring for the night when a
+sharp rap sounded at the front door.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, what's this?" Wallace exclaimed. "Will
+you see who it is?"</p>
+
+<p>Harding went to the door and opened it. On the
+step Durham was standing.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's you, Durham. Come in," he said.
+"We've been discussing things or we should have
+been in bed an hour or more ago. What's the
+news?"</p>
+
+<p>Without a word Durham stepped in and walked
+to the room where Wallace was waiting at the door.
+Directly he came into the light both Harding and
+Wallace uttered exclamations of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what has happened?" the latter cried.
+"My dear fellow&mdash;you look thoroughly done up&mdash;you
+are as haggard as a man of sixty. You've overdone
+it. Let me get you a whisky."</p>
+
+<p>Durham shook his head and sat down, resting one
+hand on the table at his side, the other on his knee.
+His uniform was soiled and torn, his face lined and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>
+grey, and his eyes heavy as with a great weariness.
+The quick alertness he had shown when he was with
+them earlier in the day had gone; he looked, as
+Wallace had expressed it, an old, haggard man, listless,
+without vitality, lacking even the energy to
+talk.</p>
+
+<p>The two stood watching him in silence, the same
+question in each one's mind&mdash;what could have
+happened to produce so great a change in a man
+in so short a time?</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure you won't let me get you something?"
+Wallace said presently as Durham neither
+moved nor spoke. "You are quite worn out. Won't
+you take&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Durham raised his hand as he shook his head
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"I only want you to send away a telegram at
+once to your head office," he said in a voice so
+dull and hollow that it caused even a greater
+shock to his companions than his appearance had
+done.</p>
+
+<p>"There would not be anyone to receive it at this
+time of night," Wallace replied. "But it shall go
+the first thing in the morning."</p>
+
+<p>"If you will write it now, I will leave it at the
+post office," Durham said in the same lifeless tone.</p>
+
+<p>Wallace rose, forcing a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"It is already written, Durham," he said pleasantly.
+"It states you have succeeded in recovering the
+stolen gold, and asks for authority to pay you the
+reward at once and in public."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You must not send that."</p>
+
+<p>The forced smile faded as Wallace stood staring;
+the expression both in Durham's voice and on his
+face was so hopelessly despondent, that into Wallace's
+mind there came a fear lest the recovered gold had
+again disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Not send that?" he asked wonderingly. "Why?
+You said&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I know. But you must not send it&mdash;now.
+Write another."</p>
+
+<p>"The gold is lost?" Wallace exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"No. The gold is safe; it is on its way here now&mdash;Brennan
+is bringing it. What you must report at
+once is that Eustace was innocent."</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace innocent?"</p>
+
+<p>Wallace and Harding uttered the exclamation
+simultaneously.</p>
+
+<p>"Innocent. Absolutely innocent. Tell Mrs.
+Eustace too. It may bring her a grain of comfort
+in her distress."</p>
+
+<p>Without raising his head or lifting his eyes, Durham
+spoke in the voice of a man upon whom the weight
+of desolation has fallen. To his hearers it suggested
+failure, defeat, and the consequent loss of professional
+prestige. To Wallace, whose concern was mostly
+for the recovery of the Bank's money, the suggestion
+did not convey so much as it did to Harding. He
+knew more of Durham's views, had heard him
+express time and again his absolute conviction as to
+the guilt of Eustace. The case, as Durham had put
+it, was so entirely clear against the late manager<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>
+that to hear him now declared innocent, and by the
+man who had accumulated evidence against him,
+reduced Harding's mind to a blank.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you saying, Durham?" he heard
+Wallace exclaim with impatience. "What do you
+mean? Eustace innocent? Why&mdash;great Heavens,
+man, if he were innocent&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He was absolutely innocent, Mr. Wallace. As
+innocent as Mr. Harding."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;&mdash;" Harding passed his hand across his
+forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"It is true," Durham said in a subdued tone.
+"I was entirely misled, entirely."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;then&mdash;well, how was the bank robbed?"
+Harding cried.</p>
+
+<p>"I know how it was robbed; by whom it was
+robbed; everything," Durham replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was it?" Wallace asked.</p>
+
+<p>Durham remained silent, his eyes fixed on the
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>"The Rider?" Harding said.</p>
+
+<p>"That name will do. The Rider and another.
+They are both dead. I saw one die&mdash;from a bullet
+in the back. I fired it. I have seen the other dead
+from a bullet Mr. Dudgeon fired. The missing notes
+I have recovered. I have them here."</p>
+
+<p>He put his hand inside his tunic and drew out
+a closely tied bundle which he laid on the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you check them and see if the total is
+correct?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Now?" Wallace asked.</p>
+
+<p>"If you please."</p>
+
+<p>"But will not to-morrow morning do? It is
+enough to have as many as these back without going
+through them so late at night."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not be here to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"You are surely not going away&mdash;not until&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not be here to-morrow," Durham repeated.</p>
+
+<p>The tone in which he spoke stopped further discussion.</p>
+
+<p>"We can check them in here&mdash;I will fetch the
+register," Harding said, as he rose and went to
+the office, returning in a few moments with the
+book.</p>
+
+<p>While he and Wallace checked the notes with
+the list of those stolen, Durham sat at the end
+of the table in the same position he had first
+assumed.</p>
+
+<p>"They are all here," Wallace said in a subdued
+voice, when the checking was complete. The presence
+of this grey-faced, silent, sad-eyed man was getting
+on his nerves.</p>
+
+<p>"The gold and the things stolen from the bank
+will be here in a few minutes; Brennan is bringing
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"And the deeds&mdash;Mrs. Burke's deeds? Have
+you no trace of them?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are returned to the owner."</p>
+
+<p>"But they ought to be here. The Bank advanced
+money on them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry. I cannot help it now. You will
+have to hold the deeds of Waroona Downs instead."</p>
+
+<p>"We have those," Harding said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well then, it does not matter so much,
+though it is still very irregular, you know," Wallace
+replied.</p>
+
+<p>Durham stood up and turned to Harding. "You
+will tell Mrs. Eustace? Tell her I am more than
+sorry for her in her trouble, but she can console
+herself that she was right. Her husband was innocent.
+Good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>With bent head and slow steps he passed from the
+room and from the bank, closing the door after
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"But what does it mean? What does it
+all mean?" Wallace cried as the front door
+slammed.</p>
+
+<p>"We may know to-morrow," Harding replied.
+"There must be something horribly tragic to have
+affected Durham so much. Better leave it as it
+stands, I think. He would have spoken had there
+been anything more he could have said."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he mean the gold was coming here to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"I gathered so. Shall I walk up to the station
+and ask Brennan?"</p>
+
+<p>But before he could do so Brennan arrived at the
+bank.</p>
+
+<p>"Where will you have it put?" he asked. "I've
+got it out at the back by the fence."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We'll both give you a hand with it," Wallace
+replied.</p>
+
+<p>They went out at the back door. A light cart was
+standing beyond the fence, with something in it
+covered by a tarpaulin. Brennan pulled the cover
+away and revealed the pile of bags.</p>
+
+<p>"There is hardly anything missing," Wallace
+exclaimed when everything had been carried into
+the bank and the amount checked. "It is one of
+the smartest things I have ever encountered. The
+way your sub-inspector has traced and recovered
+this is nothing short of marvellous."</p>
+
+<p>"He told me to say, sir, that it seemed to him
+only a right thing for you to do to let Mr. Eustace
+be brought here so that the funeral could be from
+the bank."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, of course we must consult Mrs. Eustace
+about that," Wallace answered. "I'll see Mr.
+Durham in the morning&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry to say you won't, sir," Brennan interrupted.
+"He's on his way now to the junction. He
+told me that what he had discovered he would have
+to report personally to the chief. Just what it is
+I haven't the faintest idea, but it's something
+pretty hot, if you ask me. I've never seen the sub-inspector
+curled up over anything like he is over
+this."</p>
+
+<p>"He told us he had shot the Rider," Harding
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, sir, he told me that too. What I'm inclined
+to think is that he discovered him to be a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>
+member of some big family in the south, and is
+anxious for their sake to keep the name secret. It's
+just the sort of thing some young blood might do
+if he were in an awkward hole&mdash;a chance of lifting a
+big sum such as this is a pretty strong temptation
+to anyone in a hole."</p>
+
+<p>"That may be it. One never knows. He may
+even have been a friend of Durham's," Wallace said
+musingly. "Certainly something has upset him very
+much. You don't know what became of the papers
+he found, do you? The papers Mrs. Burke left with
+the Bank?" he added.</p>
+
+<p>"I know nothing about them, sir; but he told
+me to ride out to Waroona Downs the first thing in
+the morning and tell Mrs. Burke to come in and see
+you. Perhaps she may know something about
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, very likely," Wallace said. "He told us he
+had returned them to the owner. I expect that is it,
+Harding. He has sent or given them to her. She
+will be able to put the matter straight, however,
+when she comes in."</p>
+
+<p>"I should have liked to let Mrs. Eustace know to-night,
+but it is too late now," Harding remarked.
+"It's long after midnight."</p>
+
+<p>"Go over directly after breakfast in the morning.
+I'll see to the office until you return. It will be
+necessary to wire to the general manager about
+Durham's suggestion, but we must have her opinion
+first."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose she has heard about Mr. Dud<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>geon,"
+Harding said. "It's a bad business all
+through."</p>
+
+<p>"There is his will, Harding; don't forget that.
+Not many people would be inclined to call that
+a bad business if they were in Mrs. Eustace's
+place."</p>
+
+<p>It was the one grain of comfort Harding felt he
+was carrying with him when, on the following morning,
+he walked through the town to Smart's cottage.</p>
+
+<p>Already the news of the Rider's end was
+common property. When Mrs. Eustace came to
+him in the little sitting-room, it was of that she
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, who was he, Fred? Bessie heard that Mr.
+Durham had refused to tell anyone but you. Is that
+so? Surely I may know. Surely I am entitled to
+so small a satisfaction as that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know who he was," Harding replied.
+"Durham came to us late last night, too late for me
+to come and tell you, but he mentioned no name.
+He said something I would have liked to have been
+able to repeat to you at once, but it was too late.
+So I have come as early as this. Durham asked
+me specially to come. He said&mdash;he hoped
+you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She drew herself up as he paused, clasped her
+hands, and pressed them to her breast.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Fred? You have some&mdash;something
+terrible&mdash;to say," she said in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Not terrible, Jess, but it is sad. Durham said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>
+he hoped you would find some consolation in it.
+So do I. So do we all. The Rider, whoever he may
+have been, confessed. He said Eustace was innocent."</p>
+
+<p>She remained quite still, without a sound, staring
+at him.</p>
+
+<p>"The bank was robbed by the Rider and another,
+Durham said, but Eustace was not one of the two.
+He was absolutely innocent. We have wired to the
+general manager to say so."</p>
+
+<p>"Fred, I don't believe it. I can't believe it. Why
+did he run away if he were innocent? I will never
+rest until I know who the man Mr. Durham shot
+really was. Where is Mr. Durham?"</p>
+
+<p>"He has left Waroona, Jess. He told Brennan he
+could only report personally to his chief the truth
+about the man. Brennan thinks he was someone
+connected with one of the big families, and that is
+why the name is not made known."</p>
+
+<p>"But I insist on knowing. Was he shot? Is it
+true, or is it some hideous blind? I will know, Fred,
+I will know!"</p>
+
+<p>"Durham was too much cut up when he came to
+us last night, Jess, for it to be a blind. A tragedy
+it may be, but not a blind."</p>
+
+<p>"But who was the man? Whoever he was he
+killed Charlie, killed him, Fred. They have no
+right to hide his name. Besides&mdash;how do we know
+he was shot? Durham said so, but where is the
+body?"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Jess," he said, "it is sad enough. What the
+mystery is I cannot say, but if it has cleared Charlie's
+name&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She sank into a chair and buried her face in her
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that will not bring him back!" she sobbed.
+"What will that do now?"</p>
+
+<p>He bent over her, with his hand on her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," he said, "I know how bitter it is, how
+hard."</p>
+
+<p>"I said they would find him innocent when&mdash;when
+he had gone," she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"The Bank wants to make what amends it can,"
+he said softly. "Will you let&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't ask me," she moaned. "I know what
+you would say. Do as you think best."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will arrange it?"</p>
+
+<p>She bent her head in answer.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have gone away," she said as she
+rose and walked across the room. "You were
+right. I should never have stayed, never,
+never!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't think me cruel, Jess," he said; "but
+there is something more I must tell you. Have you
+heard about Mr. Dudgeon?"</p>
+
+<p>She nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," she answered. "Poor old man. He
+was here yesterday. He&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He came to the bank," he said, as she was silent.
+"He left something in my charge, Jess, and made
+me promise you should have it at once if anything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span>
+happened to him. It was his will. He has left
+everything to you."</p>
+
+<p>She turned quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred&mdash;Fred&mdash;&mdash;" she gasped as she held out her
+hands and groped in the air.</p>
+
+<p>He caught her as she swayed.</p>
+
+<p>For a time she lay in his arms, finding a woman's
+relief in a flood of tears. Not until she grew calm
+did he speak.</p>
+
+<p>"You must go away to-morrow," he said softly.
+"Go away and rest where you will not be harassed
+by all the memories which cling around this place.
+Promise me you will."</p>
+
+<p>She raised her head and looked him in the face
+through her tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Fred, you know why I cannot leave. Even now,
+with all this tragedy over me, with him&mdash;lying over
+there&mdash;he whom I suspected and blamed&mdash;don't think
+ill of me; but my heart would have been broken but
+for you."</p>
+
+<p>He drew her to him again, held her close to him,
+kissed her upturned lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I will leave too," he whispered. "I will come
+after. Will you promise now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she answered simply.</p>
+
+<p>When he returned to the bank, Brennan rode up
+at a gallop.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, a terrible thing has happened!" he cried
+as he came into the office. "Waroona Downs has
+been burned to the ground in the night and both
+Mrs. Burke and old Patsy burned to death in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>
+beds. I warned her that one of these days that
+drunken old man would do some damage, but she
+wouldn't listen to me. Now there's the place in
+ruins and ashes. It must have burned out hours
+ago, for there's not a spark left, only the remains of
+the two lying charred to cinders."</p>
+
+<p>Coming on top of the other news circulating
+amongst the townsfolk, the destruction of Waroona
+Downs, with its two inmates, exhausted the local
+capacity for wonder.</p>
+
+<p>The whole township followed Eustace from the
+bank, forgetting their earlier condemnation of him
+now that his innocence had been declared, and being
+only anxious to testify their sympathy with the
+woman who had suffered so much in their midst.
+They would have turned out <i>en masse</i> and escorted
+her some miles on her way to the junction when she
+set out from Waroona for the south, but word was
+passed round that she wanted to go away in silence,
+unobserved.</p>
+
+<p>Three months later Harding followed her. There
+was no staying the township then. He was the last
+of the active participants in the tragic mystery to
+leave the place, and it was an open secret he was
+going to join the one for whom they all felt deeply.
+So they made up in his send-off for the restraint
+they had exercised upon themselves when she bade
+the town a silent farewell.</p>
+
+<p>The memory of that festivity still lives in the
+local annals, and ever, as a stranger asks for the
+story of the Rider, the send-off of the banker is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>
+conclusion of the tale. In vain the stranger may
+ask for particulars as to who the Rider was.</p>
+
+<p>The charred ashes of Waroona Downs had no
+tongue wherewith to tell what happened the night
+fire came to wipe the homestead from the earth.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;" />
+
+<div class="center">WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD<br />
+PRINTERS PLYMOUTH</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rider of Waroona, by Firth Scott
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rider of Waroona, by Firth Scott
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Rider of Waroona
+
+Author: Firth Scott
+
+Release Date: October 27, 2008 [EBook #27061]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIDER OF WAROONA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Wall and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+     The Rider of Waroona
+
+     By Firth Scott
+
+     Author of
+     "The Track of Midnight," "The Last Lemurian,"
+     "Romance of Polar Exploration," etc.
+
+     London
+     John Long, Limited
+     Norris Street, Haymarket
+
+     _All rights reserved_
+
+     _First Published in 1912_
+
+
+
+
+     SOME PRESS OPINIONS OF THE AUTHOR'S WORKS
+
+
+     _Daily Chronicle:_--"Mr. Scott knows the colonial, native born, to
+     the bones and the marrow."
+
+     _Westminster Gazette:_--"To say that each of them is a gem is not
+     saying too much."
+
+     _Globe:_--"Mr. Firth Scott writes a straightforward, vigorous
+     style, and has a keen eye for effective incident."
+
+     _World:_--"Deserves grateful recognition by lovers of tales well
+     told."
+
+     _Scotsman:_--"Characteristically Australian."
+
+     _Morning Post:_--"The story of Australian settlement is of
+     enthralling interest."
+
+     _Saturday Review:_--"This interesting and instructive book is very
+     pleasant reading."
+
+     _Literary World:_--"Mr. Firth Scott's stories are, alternately
+     imbued with rare glamour and realism. In either atmosphere he is
+     entertaining, and in both convincing."
+
+     _AT ALL LIBRARIES AND BOOKSELLERS_
+
+
+
+
+     Contents
+
+
+         I.    CROTCHETY DUDGEON            9
+        II.    THE RIDDLE                  21
+       III.    DISAPPEARED                 34
+        IV.    DURHAM'S SURMISE            44
+         V.    MRS. BURKE'S PRESENTIMENT   58
+        VI.    THE FACE AT THE WINDOW      79
+       VII.    SNARED                      93
+      VIII.    THE NOTE THAT FAILED       103
+        IX.    DUDGEON'S HOSPITALITY      118
+         X.    "FOOLED"                   133
+        XI.    MRS. BURKE'S REBUFF        156
+       XII.    AS THROUGH A MIST          173
+      XIII.    REVENGE IS SWEET           191
+       XIV.    THE LAST STRAW             211
+        XV.    THE RIDER'S SCORN          227
+       XVI.    LOVE'S CONQUEST            244
+      XVII.    DUDGEON PROPOSES           265
+     XVIII.    UNMASKED                   286
+       XIX.    THE ASHES OF SILENCE       307
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+CROTCHETY DUDGEON
+
+
+In an old, rackety, single-horse buggy, a vehicle which, to judge by the
+antiquity of its build and appearance and the rattle of its loose worn
+bolts, might have done duty since the days of the first pioneers,
+Dudgeon drove from his homestead to the bank.
+
+He was a man who never discarded any article of use or clothing until it
+was hopelessly beyond repair. With a huge fortune stowed away in
+gilt-edged securities and metropolitan house property, he grudged even a
+coat of paint for the vehicle he had driven for nearly forty years. The
+local wheelwright had long since declined to attempt to repair it, so
+the old man fell back on fencing-wire and his own skill whenever the
+final collapse seemed imminent.
+
+There was a legend circulating among the older residents of the district
+as to the reason for his peculiarities. To the younger generation it was
+merely an out-of-date story, for young Australia has scant heed for
+everything which does not come within his own personal range of
+experience or knowledge. But the legend, as extant, gave some
+significance to the seemingly unreasonable actions of the eccentric old
+man.
+
+In the early days, when railways were not and the land was open and free
+for the bold young bloods to conquer, Dudgeon had come out from the
+coastal cities of the south. He had health and strength, and a heart
+which knew not fear; but whatever of wealth he had had was left in the
+hands of gambling sharks in the cities whence he came. He arrived at the
+township on foot, a rare occurrence in those days when no man journeyed
+half a mile except in the saddle. But the fact that he had walked
+"looking for work," as he said, drew so much attention to him that
+offers were made from all sides to hire his services. He accepted the
+best, and went to Waroona Downs with the then owner, one Henry Lambton,
+who, with his wife and daughter, resided at the house beyond the range.
+
+Another was there also, a young man about Dudgeon's age, an Irishman
+named O'Guire, a dashing, reckless fellow who made up in sharpness of
+wit and trickery what he lacked in moral stability and scruples.
+Indirectly, he was the pivot on which the course of Dudgeon's life
+turned from the normal.
+
+The direct cause was Kitty Lambton.
+
+In a community where men predominate, every woman ranks as a belle; but
+throughout Waroona and the districts for hundreds of miles round, Kitty
+was queen, acknowledged even by her sister rivals. Before her charms
+young Dudgeon fell prostrate in adoration, and she, jealous of her sway
+over all with whom she came in contact, trifled and philandered with him
+until neither earth nor heaven held anything more adorable for him than
+herself. He was her slave, devoting himself to her with such abandon
+that her vanity was gratified to the extent of influencing her, when
+others began to remark upon the manly attractions of her admirer, to
+allow him the privilege of believing that she would marry him.
+
+But she was only trifling with him, callously and not too gently, for
+the edification of herself and her real lover, O'Guire. The truth leaked
+out when one day O'Guire vanished from the district and with him
+vanished Kitty.
+
+Thereafter Dudgeon was a changed man. Filled with an insensate belief
+that Lambton and his wife were mainly, if not entirely, responsible for
+an ill which brought them almost as much suffering as it brought him, he
+went from the place, hugging schemes of deep vengeance to his breast. It
+was in the days of the early gold finds, and Fortune showered on Dudgeon
+her compensation for the injury of Love. All that came to him he took
+and treasured, until he had enough for his purpose. Then he returned to
+Waroona, and set about exacting the full measure of his revenge upon the
+Lambtons.
+
+He drove them from Waroona Downs, following them from the district when
+they went, following them until he found them living with Kitty and her
+husband in one of the southern cities, struggling fiercely for a bare
+existence. The slings and arrows of misfortune had not brought out the
+better side of O'Guire's nature and, at the time Dudgeon pounced down
+upon them, he had only just emerged from prison. Detail was lacking in
+the current legend as to what immediately happened thereafter, for when
+Dudgeon came back to Waroona Downs he was silent on the subject, and
+only rumours filtered through of Lambton and his wife going down, each
+heart-broken, to a pauper's grave, while O'Guire and his wife barely
+eluded the final act of vengeance by escaping over sea.
+
+Under Dudgeon's ownership Waroona Downs flourished, and later he
+acquired the largest station in the district. The success he enjoyed at
+Waroona Downs followed him. His ownership of Taloona alone made him the
+richest man in the community.
+
+But no amount of money could bring back to him the nature which had been
+his before the bitterness of betrayal changed him to a misanthropical
+cynic. His hatred of women was not appeased by the revenge he had on the
+Lambtons and O'Guires. He would not employ a woman; he would not employ
+a man who was married; he would not tolerate the presence of a woman on
+any of his properties. However valuable a man might be to him as an
+employee, instant dismissal was inevitable directly that man announced
+his intention of marrying.
+
+In one instance the effect of this rule recoiled almost entirely on his
+own head, but that did not deter Dudgeon from adhering to it.
+
+He employed a man, first as overseer, then as manager, and finally as
+confidential factotum. Unknown to him, Dudgeon set numberless traps and
+pitfalls to test his reliability, and when, on every occasion, the man
+came through the tests unscathed, he received so much consideration from
+the taciturn old misanthrope, that he was currently regarded in the
+light of the heir to the Dudgeon millions.
+
+Perhaps something of the current belief crept into his own mind, for
+there came a time when he cast his eyes upon the sister of a neighbour
+and, braving the risk of Dudgeon's anger, sought her hand in marriage.
+Unfortunately for him she accepted him, and the news, travelling apace,
+reached the ears of Dudgeon before the happy lover had a chance to
+impart it personally. The old man rode direct to the station.
+
+"I'll have no women folk on my property," he blurted out as soon as he
+was face to face with his factotum. "Nor any man who has dealings with
+them. Clear out."
+
+It was vain to argue. All appeals to years of bygone service, all
+reference to business transactions then pending which would be
+jeopardised by the removal of the man who had the negotiations in hand,
+were curtly brushed aside. Dudgeon had spoken, and no power on earth
+would change him from his purpose. The would-be Benedick had chosen, and
+by that choice he had to abide.
+
+From that arose a quarrel with the bank, for the sudden dismissal led to
+an important transaction failing for the want of a simple act. The bank
+officials, knowing the man with whom they were dealing waited for the
+instructions which never came. Had they acted without them he would
+probably have repudiated their action, but as they did not act, he
+blamed them for his loss, accused them of dishonesty and removed his
+account, vowing never to have dealings with them again if he could avoid
+it, and always putting them to the greatest inconvenience when he was
+compelled to deal with or through them.
+
+Now, by an irony of fate, he was forced to have dealings with them
+again, dealings which he resented for more reasons than his antagonism
+to the institution, and dealings, moreover, which he was prepared to
+leave no stone unturned to bring to naught.
+
+He had placed Waroona Downs in the hands of Gale, the local auctioneer,
+for sale. The one condition he had imposed was that the purchaser should
+be a resident of the district, a condition he had considered ample to
+prevent the property passing into the possession of one of the
+opposite--and hated--sex. Yet that condition had failed. A purchaser had
+been found, a purchaser for whom the bank was acting, and a purchaser
+who, while being a resident in the district, was also a woman.
+
+Dudgeon--"Crotchety Dudgeon" as he was termed by his neighbours, who,
+despite his wealth, usually regarded him as being of no account in the
+general scheme of Nature--had done his best to repudiate the bargain;
+had blustered and fumed, threatening actions and penalties against all
+and sundry, but in vain. The bank officials were polite, listening to
+all he had to say in silence and only speaking in cold, precise, formal
+phrases to reiterate the intention of the purchaser to hold to her
+bargain, and the readiness of the bank to complete, on her behalf, the
+transaction.
+
+He refused to meet or see her, but he could not help hearing of her, and
+what he heard only served to stimulate his resentment, for her name,
+Nora Burke, recalled memories of his Irish rival O'Guire, while the
+bitterness of his surrender to the charms of Kitty Lambton was revived
+when he understood that Mrs. Burke also belonged to the fascinating type
+of woman.
+
+She had, he learned, the coal-black hair of the Western Irish, and
+grey-blue eyes which flickered and flashed behind thick dark lashes.
+What her other features were he did not hear, for her wealth of hair and
+the charm of her eyes carried all before them. But, as a matter of fact,
+no other feature was conspicuously beautiful, and it was difficult to
+realise where the charm of her face rested until the full force of the
+dark-lashed eyes was recognised. Within them lay the secret of the power
+she wielded.
+
+Although not above the average height, a graceful and well-proportioned
+figure gave the impression of a greater stature. One of the most
+accomplished horsewomen who ever sat a side-saddle, her appearance on
+horseback would alone have sufficed, in a community like Waroona, to
+have won for her the admiration and homage of the public. But there were
+yet other reasons for the popularity she acquired within an hour of her
+arrival.
+
+Forty miles from a railway, the township was the centre of a district
+divided into a series of sheep stations. When the season came for
+shearing the wool and despatching it to the markets in the cities on the
+coast hundreds of miles away, the population was fairly respectable in
+point of numbers, though with the riff-raff which formed the army of
+camp followers moving in the track of the shearers and teamsters,
+respectability was not otherwise manifest. But at other periods of the
+year, there were few men and fewer women scattered over the area marked
+on the map as Waroona, and including as many square miles as some
+English counties possess acres. Wherefore the arrival of any new-comer
+was an event; but when that new-comer was a woman, and one, moreover, of
+the many personal charms and accomplishments of Mrs. Burke, it was
+inevitable that her advent should form the subject of something more
+than passing interest.
+
+Her frank manner of speech also helped her, for there is nothing more
+objectionable to the average Colonial than the person who is reserved on
+the subject of his or her private and personal concerns.
+
+There was no such reserve with Mrs. Burke. She had not been twenty-four
+hours in Waroona before it was known that she was a young widow left
+with a stepson to bring up and educate on the rents from an impoverished
+Irish estate. Year by year it became more and more difficult, she said,
+to collect those rents from tenants to whom politics were more
+attractive than commercial obligations. Therefore, when a chance
+occurred for her to sell the estate, she did not hesitate to entertain
+it. But, in order that her stepson might still derive as much benefit as
+possible from the wreck of his ancestors' wealth, she determined, before
+selling, to seek in Australia a new heritage for the last of the Burkes.
+
+Waroona Downs was suggested to her as the very place to suit her, and
+Gale at once offered it to her. The negotiations were rapidly completed,
+and the community was collectively rejoicing at the good fortune of
+having so desirable an acquisition as the handsome Irishwoman added to
+it when a miniature thunder-bolt fell in the form of the emphatic
+refusal of the owner to sell the property to a woman.
+
+Following the advice of her many friends and admirers, Mrs. Burke took
+up her residence at the place so that she might claim the nine points of
+the law possession is said to give, while she handed to the bank the
+deeds of her Irish property, and against them the bank agreed to
+complete the purchase.
+
+Popular opinion was entirely with the young widow, and popular opinion
+was strong enough to force Dudgeon back to the last resource. This was a
+demand that the purchase price of the station should be paid in gold.
+
+The price was twenty-five thousand pounds and, as Dudgeon well knew,
+there was not such a quantity of coin to be found in the district, where
+it was the almost invariable practice to pay everything by cheque or
+order. He had preferred his demand formally; had waited for a reply that
+the bank was prepared to meet it and, as no such reply had reached him,
+was about to declare the matter at an end.
+
+He drew up at the bank. Eustace, the manager, was speaking to his
+assistant as the old man entered.
+
+"I've come for the money," he said abruptly, and stood by the counter,
+holding out his gnarled, bony hands.
+
+"You mean the purchase money for Waroona Downs, Mr. Dudgeon?" Eustace
+replied suavely. "You are rather early, are you not?"
+
+"I gave you notice three days ago. You'll pay over or the deal's off.
+Which is it?"
+
+Harding, the assistant, passed a document to Eustace.
+
+"These are the terms of the sale, Mr. Dudgeon," Eustace said in the same
+smooth tone. "The completion of the purchase is to be performed one
+month from the date on which the agreement to buy was made. Mrs. Burke
+agreed on the 20th of last month. To-day is the 17th. She has therefore
+three days before you can make your final demand."
+
+Dudgeon grabbed the document and read it through. The wording was as
+Eustace had said. He had played his card too soon.
+
+"I'll beat you yet," he cried as he flung the paper across the counter.
+"No matter what it costs, I'll never have a woman owning one of my
+properties. You're a lot of scheming scoundrels, but I'll beat you
+yet."
+
+He bounced out and flogged his horse to a gallop as he drove away.
+
+"If the head office had sent off the gold at once when I wired, it would
+have been here by now," Eustace said to his assistant.
+
+"Then everyone would have known it was here, and there is no saying what
+might have happened," Harding jestingly answered. "Anyway, it is due
+to-night."
+
+Later, when the bank had closed for the day, a light waggon drew up at
+the door with a couple of men in it.
+
+"We've some books and boxes of stationery for you from the Wyalla
+branch," one of the men called out as Eustace opened the door and looked
+out.
+
+A bushman slouching past with his roll of blankets slung across his
+back, glanced round at the waggon and continued his way to the hotel.
+Eustace and Harding both helped to carry the bundles and boxes into the
+bank. When they were all inside Eustace turned to the men.
+
+"You'll have some dinner with us before you go back?" he asked.
+
+"Can't, old chap. Head office orders. Don't know what sort of people the
+general manager thinks you've got in this part, but the strictest
+secrecy in everything were our instructions, so Ted and I are teamsters
+and nothing but teamsters till we get back to our own branch. So long,
+old chap."
+
+"It does seem a lot of rot," Harding remarked when the waggon was away
+again.
+
+"You haven't been here long enough to know old Dudgeon, Harding. Let us
+get the gold into the safe--we'll put it in the reserve recess. I only
+hope the old man comes in again to-morrow morning, so that we can pay it
+over and get clear of it and his business."
+
+But the next day passed without any sign of Dudgeon, and after a last
+look round to see that all was right Eustace and Harding bade one
+another good night with the hope that on the morrow Dudgeon would come
+for his gold, though there was still another day before he could legally
+demand it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE RIDDLE
+
+
+At five minutes to ten the following morning Eustace awakened to find
+the sunlight streaming into his room, the bank in absolute silence, and
+his head so light and dizzy he could scarcely stand when he sprang out
+of bed.
+
+He glanced at the alarm clock on the mantelpiece. The alarm was set for
+six, the hour at which Eustace almost invariably awakened. He had no
+recollection of hearing it ring that morning, yet only a touch was
+required to show that it had gone off at the proper time.
+
+His wife still lay in deepest slumber.
+
+"Jess! Jess!" he cried, as he shook her. "Wake up, Jess! It's nearly ten
+o'clock. Wake up! Wake up!"
+
+She stirred heavily, uneasily, drowsily.
+
+"Wake up! Wake up!" he repeated. "Look what time it is."
+
+She sat up with a gasp, pressing her hands to her head.
+
+"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed. "My head! How it throbs!"
+
+"It's nearly ten o'clock," Eustace cried. "I don't hear anyone moving.
+The bank must be open in five minutes."
+
+He hurried across the landing to his assistant's room and
+unceremoniously opened the door.
+
+His assistant was in bed in a heavy sleep.
+
+"Harding! Fred! Wake up, man! Do you know what time it is?" he said, as
+he grabbed the sleeper's arm and shook him so vigorously that he pulled
+him half out of bed.
+
+Sleepily Harding's eyelids lifted to reveal glazed and lack-lustre eyes.
+
+"What's up?" he mumbled. "What's the matter now?"
+
+"Look at the time," Eustace cried excitedly.
+
+Harding pushed his hand under his pillow, raised himself on his arm and
+flung the pillow over.
+
+"Where's my watch?" he exclaimed. "Where has it gone?"
+
+"Don't you hear me say it is nearly ten o'clock? What on earth do you
+mean by sleeping to this hour when the bank ought to be open?"
+
+Harding blinked at his pyjama-clad manager.
+
+"You don't seem to have been up so very long," he grumbled. "But where's
+my jolly watch gone? I'll swear I put it under my pillow last night. Are
+you having a joke? Have you hidden it?"
+
+"I have not touched your watch. I tell you it's ten o'clock and the
+bank----"
+
+"Then someone has stolen it," Harding exclaimed as he sat up.
+
+The pupils of Eustace's eyes contracted to pinpoints. With an
+inarticulate cry he dashed from the room and rushed to the stairs. He
+heard his wife call from the servant's room but paid no heed to the
+words.
+
+Down the stairs he plunged, springing across the passage to the door
+leading from the residential portion of the building to the banking
+chamber.
+
+The door was locked.
+
+"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "I was afraid it had been broken into."
+
+He ran upstairs again, meeting his wife at the top.
+
+"I can't wake that girl, Charlie. What shall I do?" she said.
+
+"Shy cold water over her," he answered abruptly as he went on to his
+room, where he seized his clothes and fumbled nervously for his keys.
+
+They were in the pocket where he always kept them.
+
+The discovery reassured him. Whatever else had happened, the bank was
+safe, for without the keys no one would be able to get at the cash. It
+was curious how everyone in the house had overslept themselves, but that
+was a detail to be unravelled subsequently. For the moment he must race
+into his clothes and be downstairs in time to have the bank's doors open
+to the public by ten.
+
+He was nearly dressed when Mrs. Eustace returned to the room.
+
+"Charlie, whatever has happened? Bessie can hardly stand. She's exactly
+as if she had been drinking."
+
+"Oh, don't bother me about Bessie," he said petulantly. "It's ten
+o'clock, and the bank is not open."
+
+He pushed past her and sped down the stairs. Despite his efforts to
+recover his confidence, his hand still trembled as he unlocked the door
+leading to the bank and entered the office.
+
+One quick glance round set his mind at ease. The place was in the same
+state of neatness and order as when he and Harding locked up the night
+before.
+
+He crossed to the street door, unlocked and unbolted it and pulled it
+open. As he did so, Harding came in through the private entrance.
+
+"I say, Eustace, hang it, what have you done with that watch?" he asked.
+"It's not in my room. Where have you put it?"
+
+"I have not seen your watch. Make haste and get the safes open and the
+books out. Look at the time," Eustace replied sharply.
+
+The keys of the big safe, or strong-room, as they termed it, were kept
+in a smaller one, to which there were two keys, Eustace and Harding each
+holding one. The last vestige of fear passed from Eustace's mind as the
+keys of the strong-room were found lying in their usual place. He sighed
+with relief as Harding picked them up, unlocked the heavy door and,
+swinging the handles, threw the strong-room open.
+
+The tray on which the cash had been placed after balancing the previous
+evening was in a small upper compartment resting on the books. It was
+the usual practice for Harding to remove it and hand it over to Eustace,
+who checked the contents while the books and documents necessary for the
+day's work were being arranged.
+
+But Eustace was too impatient to wait for the ordinary methods. As
+Harding pushed back the safe doors and bent down to remove the keys, he
+reached over him and caught hold of the tray.
+
+Instead of being heavy, as it should have been with all the gold, silver
+and copper coins, it came away in his hands light--and empty!
+
+His face went livid. He reeled back against the counter, letting the
+tray fall to the floor.
+
+"Gone!" he cried. "The money's gone!"
+
+Harding started up and stood staring, first at Eustace, then at the tray
+lying on the floor.
+
+"Gone?" he echoed. "Gone? How can it have gone?"
+
+"It has--the tray is empty," Eustace gasped in reply.
+
+Harding looked from the tray to the open safe. His glance rested on the
+drawer where the bank-notes were kept. He took hold of the handle and
+pulled the drawer out.
+
+It was empty.
+
+In an inner recess, guarded by second-locked doors, the gold reserve was
+kept. The night before the bags of gold had filled it to the doors.
+
+Harding tried the handles. They held. The locks had not been forced.
+
+"Have you the keys of the reserve?" he asked.
+
+With shaking hands Eustace produced them and stood watching, as the
+doors were unlocked and swung open.
+
+The recess was as empty as the cash tray.
+
+Dumbfounded, Harding turned to Eustace who, with his face ashen, stared
+blankly at the empty recess. Then a wild light leapt in his eyes and he
+seized the handle of a drawer in the counter where a loaded revolver was
+kept lest at any moment an attempt was made to rob the bank during
+office hours.
+
+Harding sprang to his side and gripped his arm.
+
+"Not that," he cried hoarsely. "Hang it, man, pull yourself together.
+Think of your wife!"
+
+"It's ruin--ruin for me. Better finish it," Eustace muttered.
+
+Holding him back with one hand, Harding pulled the drawer open with the
+other to take the revolver away. But the drawer was also empty.
+
+"That has gone as well," he cried, letting go his hold of Eustace as he
+stooped to peer into the drawer.
+
+Eustace sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands.
+
+"Oh, this is terrible--terrible," he moaned. "Terrible, terrible."
+
+The door leading to the house was flung open and Mrs. Eustace faced
+them.
+
+"Charlie!" she exclaimed. "My rings and jewellery have vanished. The
+cases are all empty. I am certain--why, what is the matter?" she broke
+off to ask as she caught sight of her husband.
+
+She glanced from him to Harding.
+
+"What has happened?" she said wonderingly, as she advanced further into
+the office.
+
+Opposite the open doors of the strong-room she saw the empty cash tray
+lying on the floor, the note drawer pulled out, the vacant space of the
+reserve recess.
+
+"Charlie!"
+
+Her voice went to a shriek as the truth flashed upon her.
+
+She rushed past Harding and flung herself on her knees beside her
+husband, her arms around him, her face upturned to his.
+
+"Oh, Charlie, Charlie! Whatever are we to do?" she cried.
+
+"Shall I go over to the police-station? We had better report it at
+once," Harding said quietly.
+
+Eustace raised his wife from her kneeling position.
+
+"You must not come in here now, Jess," he said. "Go and learn, as nearly
+as you can, what has been taken from the house. Harding and I must send
+word to the head office."
+
+He led her from the room and closed the door after her.
+
+"We shall have to use the code, I suppose," Harding said, as he
+returned. "If you will read out the words, I will write them."
+
+Eustace sank into his chair again and sat staring blankly in front of
+him.
+
+"Come, come, old chap," Harding exclaimed, as he laid his hand on his
+manager's shoulder. "Don't give way. There's a mystery in all this. We
+shall want all our wits to clear it up as it is; don't make it worse."
+
+Eustace raised his head.
+
+"But who can have done it, Harding? Who can have done it? Every place
+locked up and yet the money has gone! No one knew all that gold was
+here."
+
+"You and I knew it."
+
+"My God! You don't mean----" Eustace cried as he sprang out of his
+chair. "You don't----"
+
+"Steady, old man, steady. Keep your head. There's nothing to be gained
+by getting excited. You and I knew it was here and someone at the head
+office knew, as well as the fellows at Wyalla. Some word may have leaked
+out while it was on the road. There's no saying off-hand; what we've got
+to do is to keep cool and go slow if we're to clear ourselves. I'm as
+much concerned in this matter as you are."
+
+Eustace shook his head.
+
+"No, Harding. I'm manager, and all the responsibility is on my
+shoulders. Whatever comes to light, I'm ruined. The bank will fire me
+out directly they hear of it--and this was my first branch too."
+
+"I would not look at it like that," Harding replied. "No game is lost
+till it's won. I'll send Brennan over as I pass the station. He may be
+able to throw some light on it. Come. Let us draft the report for the
+head office."
+
+But Eustace was too unnerved to render any assistance, and it was
+Harding who, single-handed, drafted and coded a brief message reporting
+what had been discovered. Not until this message was handed to him did
+Eustace move.
+
+"That's my death warrant," he said gloomily as he signed it.
+
+Harding took the message and left the office. The township boasted only
+one street, the bank being at one end, the post office at the other.
+Midway between the two was the police-station, where the one constable
+responsible for the maintenance of law and order within the district
+resided.
+
+"Get over to the bank, will you, Brennan?" Harding said as he entered
+the station. "You'll have your hands full this time. There's been a
+robbery during the night, and all the cash cleared out."
+
+"What's that, Mr. Harding? The bank robbed? You don't mean it!"
+
+"Go and ask Eustace; he'll give you all the details. It's floored him.
+Hurry over, there's a good chap. I'm on my way to the post office to
+wire to the head office; I can't stay now."
+
+Ten minutes later the news was known from one end of the township to the
+other, and was travelling in every direction through the bush to the
+outlying stations and selections.
+
+The farther it travelled the more astounding it became, and yet the form
+in which Brennan telegraphed it to his Inspector showed it to be
+sufficiently startling and mysterious.
+
+When the reports had been wired away, Eustace recalled an incident he
+had forgotten in the excitement of the initial discovery.
+
+During the evening, soon after sunset, a stranger called at the bank. He
+came to the private entrance where he was seen by Eustace, who described
+him as a well-built man of medium height, with sandy hair and beard and,
+by appearance, an ordinary bushman. He said he had come in from a
+distant station with a cheque he wanted to cash, but as the bank was
+closed for the day, Eustace told him he would have to come again in the
+morning. He had gone, mounting his horse and riding away in the
+direction of the hotel where stockmen usually congregated.
+
+Brennan went to the hotel in search of him, but no one knew anything
+about him there, nor had anyone else seen him either in or out of the
+township.
+
+"But he must have been seen," Eustace exclaimed impatiently, when
+Brennan returned to the bank with the news. "He must have been seen. He
+could not have vanished."
+
+"Did anyone else see him besides you when he called?" Brennan asked.
+
+"No, I was passing the front door at the moment he came. No one else saw
+him, so far as I know. But he must have been seen in the township. He
+must have gone to the hotel."
+
+They were standing in the bank office, Brennan on one side of the
+counter, Harding and Eustace on the other.
+
+"You didn't see him?" Brennan asked, looking at Harding.
+
+"No, I didn't see him," Harding answered.
+
+"But you heard me speak to someone--I came into the dining-room and told
+you it was a man who wanted a cheque cashed," Eustace exclaimed.
+
+"That's right," Harding said quietly, "I was going to say so when you
+interrupted me."
+
+There was a hum of voices outside and half a dozen men came into the
+office--Allnut, the largest storekeeper in the town; Soden, the
+hotelkeeper; Gale, the local auctioneer; Johnson, the postmaster, and
+two men who were strangers.
+
+"Here, Soden," Eustace cried, as soon as he caught sight of the
+hotelkeeper. "Do you mean to say that the man I told Brennan about never
+came to your house last night?"
+
+Soden, a slow-witted, heavy-built man, shook his head.
+
+"Not a sign of him, Mr. Eustace," he answered. "But these two men came
+in just now. They've got something to say," he added, turning to
+Brennan.
+
+One of the two men stepped forward.
+
+"We didn't think much of it in a general way," he said, "leastways not
+until we heard at the pub about the robbery. You see, me and my mate
+camped last night about five miles out on the road. As near as we can
+say, it was somewhere about midnight when Bill--my mate," he added as he
+waved his hand towards his companion, "looked out of the tent. 'Hullo,
+Jim,' he says, 'what's this? Here, come and look, quick.' You see, from
+where our camp was we could get a view half a mile down the road. Well,
+when I looked out I saw, coming along the road at racing speed, a
+pair-horse buggy with two men in it. The chap who was driving had the
+horses at full gallop as they passed the camp, but it wasn't him so much
+that I noticed as the horses. You see, they were both white--white as
+milk. The moon was up and they showed real pretty."
+
+"White?" Brennan exclaimed.
+
+"White as milk," the man replied. "That's what made Bill call out. We
+didn't know there was a white horse in the whole of Waroona, let alone
+two of them."
+
+"Was that on the main road?" Brennan asked.
+
+"On the main road--just about five miles out."
+
+"I know every horse in the district, and there's not a white one among
+them," Gale said.
+
+"These were white--white as milk," the man repeated. "It was what made
+us look."
+
+"If the horses were galloping the tracks would still show in the road,"
+Gale said to Brennan. "Shall I ride out and have a look?"
+
+"If you've got a buggy, me and my mate will come too and show them to
+you," Jim exclaimed resentfully.
+
+"That would be better," Brennan said.
+
+"Come along then," Gale exclaimed, and left the bank with the two men.
+
+As soon as they were gone Brennan turned to Johnson.
+
+"Two white horses can't go far in this district without being noticed.
+Will you wire round to the different telegraph offices and ask if
+anything of the kind has been seen or heard of?"
+
+"They cannot have gone more than a hundred miles since midnight, can
+they?" Johnson asked.
+
+"A hundred? No, not fifty," Allnut exclaimed.
+
+"Well, we'll say a hundred. I'll wire to every telegraph office within a
+hundred miles. I'll send or bring you word within half an hour."
+
+"Supposing there is any truth in the yarn," Soden remarked slowly, "how
+is it going to help? I brought the men along, not because I believed
+their yarn, but because it seemed to me they might know more about the
+robbery than they would care to have known."
+
+"There's no harm in sending off those telegrams, anyway. I'll get away
+and put them through," Johnson said as he went to the door.
+
+He stood for a moment looking out along the road.
+
+"I fancy that's Mrs. Burke coming," he called back over his shoulder to
+Eustace.
+
+Soden, Allnut, and Brennan, at the mention of the name, moved towards
+the door, and Harding came round the counter to join them.
+
+"You had better see her, Harding," Eustace said under his breath. "Tell
+her everything will be all right so far as she is concerned. We cannot
+say more until we hear from head office."
+
+The other three men were already out on the footpath in front of the
+bank entrance. Eustace slipped into the little ante-room that served as
+the manager's private office, as the sound of a vehicle pulling up
+outside the bank reached him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+DISAPPEARED
+
+
+"Oh, never mind," Mrs. Burke exclaimed as Brennan went to the horse's
+head and took hold of the reins. "Sure I'm only stopping for a moment--I
+won't get out. It's just to see Mr. Eustace I've come."
+
+The men on the footpath looked at one another and then at her.
+
+In the doorway Harding stood hesitating whether to go out or to wait
+until Mrs. Burke alighted from the buggy.
+
+"You've heard the news, haven't you?" Allnut asked as he stepped to her
+side. "Ill news travels apace, they say. Hasn't word got out as far as
+the Downs?"
+
+Mrs. Burke turned the full battery of her dark-fringed eyes on the
+storekeeper.
+
+"News? What news?" she exclaimed. "I've only just come in. Has anything
+happened?"
+
+She glanced at Harding where he stood in the doorway.
+
+"To Mr. Eustace? Nothing has happened to Mr. Eustace, has there?" she
+added, as she leaned towards Allnut.
+
+"Well, I don't know," he replied in an uncertain voice. "It affects him
+more or less, I suppose, seeing he is the manager. The bank has been
+robbed, you know."
+
+It was well Brennan was at the horse's head, for the shriek with which
+Mrs. Burke greeted the information was heard at the post office the
+other end of the town and made the horse plunge and rear. Although
+Brennan managed to hold it from bolting, it forced the buggy back on the
+footpath and almost turned it over. But Mrs. Burke was out long before
+then, for with a bound she sprang from the vehicle, sending Allnut
+staggering as she blundered against him in her rush for the bank.
+
+Harding, having heard Allnut's words, stepped forward to meet her.
+
+"You need not be alarmed, Mrs. Burke," he said, as she dashed up. "So
+far as you are concerned----"
+
+"Where's that villain? Where's that wretch? He's stolen my deeds! I know
+it, I know it! I'm ruined! Brennan, come and arrest him."
+
+Her words, shouted at the top of her voice, rang through the place and
+out on the roadway, where Brennan was still struggling with her rearing
+horse, and Soden and Allnut stood by as sympathetic onlookers.
+
+"If you will come in, the manager will explain the matter to you,"
+Harding said.
+
+"Don't talk to me about explaining," she shouted in answer. "Where are
+my deeds? Where are the deeds of my Irish property? If you've stolen
+them----"
+
+"Pray speak quietly, Mrs. Burke," Harding said. "There are others who
+can hear you, and the bank----"
+
+"Others? Others hear me? I'll let them hear me. I want them to hear me.
+I've nothing to hide, and I'll not shelter any scoundrel who will rob
+and cheat a lonely widow. Maybe others will not stand by and see an
+unfortunate poor weak woman robbed and swindled----"
+
+"If you will come inside, Mrs. Burke----"
+
+"I'll not come inside. I want my deeds back. I'll have nothing more to
+do with your wretched bank. Sure I'm distracted. Have you those deeds?"
+
+"Mr. Eustace," Harding began, when she flung round and leaped away from
+the door.
+
+"Brennan!" she cried. "Brennan! Come here, Brennan. They've robbed me of
+my deeds, the deeds of my Irish property. They insisted I should leave
+them here, and now they tell me they're stolen. Who's stolen them if it
+isn't that scoundrel in there? Come and arrest him. Come and help me
+recover my just rights."
+
+She shouted out the words despite the fact that Brennan was still
+careering round in the roadway trying to pacify her plunging horse.
+
+Harding glanced over his shoulder towards Eustace's room as she left the
+doorway. He saw Eustace slip from the room and make for the door leading
+into the private portion of the house. At the door he turned.
+
+"Get her to come in here," he said impatiently.
+
+As he was speaking Mrs. Burke flounced round again and caught sight of
+him.
+
+"Oh, there you are," she cried, as she stepped inside. "Now, what have
+you to say?"
+
+Eustace closed the door after him as she was speaking.
+
+Mrs. Burke rushed out again into the road.
+
+"Mr. Allnut! Mr. Soden! I can trust you. Will you stay here and see that
+villain does not slip out and escape? He's gone into the house. I'll go
+to the front door."
+
+She ran towards the private entrance, but stopped opposite Brennan, who
+had at last succeeded in getting the horse under control.
+
+"They've robbed me, Brennan," she cried. "I left all the deeds of my
+Irish property with them. They've stolen them and say the place has been
+broken into as a blind. I don't believe it. It's Eustace. I never
+believed in him. Sure, if it hadn't been for Mr. Gale I'd never have
+listened to him. But now what am I to do? Where's Mr. Gale? Why isn't he
+here to help me? Why don't you tell him to come at once?"
+
+"Mr. Gale has gone along the road with two men we want to know something
+about, Mrs. Burke. He'll return shortly. You had better see Mr. Eustace.
+It's only money which has been taken, I believe. Mr. Eustace will be
+able to tell you all about it."
+
+"But he is trying to escape," she said in a whisper. "I saw him go out
+of the other door. He'll get away. Come and arrest him."
+
+"Never fear," Brennan answered, as he smiled. "I'll see he doesn't get
+away. I'll watch here till you come out."
+
+"Will you please come this way, Mrs. Burke? Mr. Eustace is waiting to
+see you," Harding called out from the bank entrance.
+
+"I'll go," she said to Brennan. "But mind! I rely on you--thank God your
+father and mother were Irish even if you were born out here."
+
+"Mr. Eustace asks if you will mind going into the dining-room," Harding
+said.
+
+She shot a resentful glance at him as she swept by and passed through
+into the house. Eustace met her and led her into the dining-room,
+closing the door after him. As Harding shut the door leading from the
+bank, Johnson, the postmaster, came in.
+
+"Here is a message just come through--I brought it down at once as I
+thought you'd be anxious," he said.
+
+"Half a minute," Harding said, as he took the telegram. "Eustace is
+seeing Mrs. Burke in the house. I'll take it to him in case there is a
+reply."
+
+He went through to the dining-room, knocked at the door and opened it.
+Mrs. Burke, her eyes flashing and her cheeks flushed, was standing
+facing Eustace, who sat by the table with his head resting on his hand.
+
+"Here's a telegram--Johnson is waiting to see if there is any reply,"
+Harding said, as he held out the message.
+
+Eustace took the telegram mechanically, opened and read it and handed
+it, open, to Harding.
+
+"Read it," he said. "There's no answer. I'll join you presently."
+
+Harding left the room, glancing at the message as he crossed the
+passage. It required no answer, as Eustace had said. It was very brief.
+
+     "Inspector Wallace will take charge."
+
+Harding whistled. Wallace was the senior inspector of the service, and
+his special faculty was the unravelling of tangled accounts and the
+detection of defaulting managers and cashiers. Leaving the ordinary
+inspection of branches to his juniors, Wallace only journeyed from the
+head office to take charge when grave suspicions were entertained as to
+the integrity of a branch staff. The telegram was tantamount to an
+intimation that the authorities of the bank did not regard the robbery
+as the work of an outsider.
+
+As he re-entered the office, Brennan was standing at the entrance with
+Johnson.
+
+"No answer," Harding said quietly, and Johnson nodded and went off.
+Brennan turned and crossed to the counter.
+
+"Is Mr. Eustace about?" he asked.
+
+"He is talking to Mrs. Burke in the dining-room. She's rather excited,
+and he took her in there because she would shout so. He'll be back in a
+few minutes, unless you want to tell him something particularly at
+once," Harding answered.
+
+Brennan glanced at a telegram he held in his hand.
+
+"It will do when he comes out," he answered slowly. "Have you had any
+word?" he added, as he leant over the counter.
+
+"The head office wires that Inspector Wallace--our bank inspector, that
+is, not one of your police inspectors--is coming up."
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+Harding gave a short laugh.
+
+"All? It's quite enough, Brennan. Between you and me it means that
+Eustace and I are suspected--one of us or both."
+
+"Yes, that's right," Brennan said quietly. "One or both."
+
+As he spoke he held out a message for Harding to read.
+
+     "Keep manager under close surveillance till I arrive.
+     "DURHAM."
+
+"You know who Durham is?" Brennan asked.
+
+"Never heard of him," Harding answered.
+
+"He's the finest man who ever put on a uniform," Brennan exclaimed. "He
+is the sub-inspector in charge of this district--he's only been
+appointed a couple of months. I reckon it's only a temporary thing for
+him, just until there's room to make him an inspector. It's a good thing
+for your bank he is coming up. If anyone on earth can unravel a mystery,
+my sub-inspector is the man. He won't be long before he has the matter
+cleared up."
+
+"If he can get to the bottom of this business, I'll agree with you,"
+Harding replied. "But I don't think very much of his first idea; I don't
+think he is right if he suspects Eustace. When do you expect him?"
+
+"I should say he will be here some time during the day. He wired from
+Wyalla, and I expect he'll ride across country--it will be quicker than
+waiting for a train at the junction. Ah, there's Mr. Gale back," he
+exclaimed, as a buggy drove past the bank. "If you'll let me know when
+Mr. Eustace is free, I'll just step out and hear what he has discovered
+about the yarn the men told us."
+
+"All right. I'll call you as soon as Eustace comes in," Harding said,
+and Brennan left the office.
+
+Soon after he had gone Harding heard the dining-room door open and Mrs.
+Burke's voice ring through the house.
+
+"I don't believe a word of it. It's false; it's untrue. It's all a
+blind. I'll see whether there is not justice in the land for an
+unfortunate widow robbed of her all."
+
+Then the door was slammed and the front door opened and slammed also.
+
+Harding sat waiting for Eustace to come back to the office. He heard
+Mrs. Burke's voice sounding shrill outside, but not clear enough for him
+to distinguish what she was saying. Then the buggy started and drove
+rapidly away.
+
+A gentle tap came at the door leading to the house, and Mrs. Eustace
+opened it and looked in.
+
+"Has that dreadful woman gone?" she asked in an agitated voice. "Is
+Charlie here?"
+
+Harding rose and went over to her.
+
+"No. He has not come back yet. He is in the dining-room. Shall I tell
+him you want him?"
+
+"Oh, no, perhaps it will be better to leave him alone till he comes out.
+Did you hear what she said? She has been making such a scene in there.
+Poor Charlie, as if he had not enough to worry him as it is, without her
+saying such terrible things."
+
+Brennan, with Gale and Johnson, appeared at the entrance, and Mrs.
+Eustace went back into the house, closing the door after her.
+
+"Mrs. Burke has gone," Brennan said, as he came over to the counter. "Is
+Mr. Eustace in the office?"
+
+"He has not come out of the dining-room yet. Shall I tell him?" Harding
+replied.
+
+"I'll go through," Brennan said.
+
+Harding opened the door and stood holding it, with Gale and Johnson
+behind him, as Brennan went to the dining-room door and knocked.
+
+Receiving no answer, he opened the door.
+
+"There is no one in there," he called out.
+
+With one accord the three moved forward. Brennan was half-way across the
+room when they reached the door. He went to the window and looked at the
+fastening.
+
+"He did not get out this way," he cried. "He must be in the house
+somewhere."
+
+Mrs. Eustace appeared on the stairs, and came down.
+
+"Where is your husband, Mrs. Eustace?" Brennan exclaimed directly he saw
+her.
+
+"He was in there--isn't he in there now?" she said, as she passed into
+the room.
+
+"He is not here, Mrs. Eustace, though Mrs. Burke left him here when she
+came out a few minutes ago. Where is he?"
+
+With widely open eyes Mrs. Eustace stared from one to the other.
+
+"Oh, what is it?" she cried. "What is it? Tell me--is it----"
+
+For a moment she stood with her eyes fixed on Brennan.
+
+"Oh, my God!" she cried as she flung up her arms and fell headlong to
+the floor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+DURHAMS'S SURMISE
+
+
+Eustace had disappeared as completely and mysteriously as the gold which
+had been in his keeping.
+
+Every corner of the building from the roof to the basement was examined.
+Even the cupboards were inspected and the made-up beds pulled to pieces,
+lest he should have succeeded in secreting himself amongst the jam-pots
+or inside the covering of a pillow; but no trace of him could be found.
+
+His hats hung on their accustomed pegs, so that if he had gone from the
+house he must have gone bareheaded. But the question which none could
+answer was how he had managed to go from the house at all.
+
+At the time Mrs. Burke left the dining-room, Brennan was standing
+talking to Gale and Johnson in front of the private entrance. In the
+office Harding was waiting for his manager to come from the house. Thus
+two out of the three ordinary means of exit could not have been used
+without Eustace being seen. The third was the back door opening from the
+scullery, which, in turn, opened from the kitchen. Bessie was in the
+kitchen when the slamming of the dining-room door announced the
+departure of Mrs. Burke.
+
+Both she and her mistress were insistent that Eustace did not pass
+through the kitchen. Each told the same story when interrogated. As soon
+as the signal of Mrs. Burke's departure was heard, Mrs. Eustace went to
+the door leading from the kitchen to the passage and stood waiting for
+her husband to appear. When he did not do so, she went to the door of
+the office, knocked, and asked Harding if Eustace were there. She
+maintained that the door of the dining-room had not been opened after
+Mrs. Burke flounced out. Harding, who was listening in the office, also
+maintained it had not been opened.
+
+The mystery of Eustace's disappearance was still agitating everyone when
+Sub-Inspector Durham rode up to the bank. Listening, without comment, to
+all Brennan had to report, he went through the premises with Harding and
+Brennan, saying nothing till he came to the back door.
+
+Situated as it was, with only the bush behind and beyond it, the bank
+was thus free from being overlooked. A block of ground at the back was
+surrounded by a three-rail fence, but the cultivation was limited, a
+score of fowls occupying the far end and the remainder of the area
+consisting of a grass patch and a few indigenous shrubs left when the
+ground was fenced in from the bush.
+
+Standing there, he waved his arm comprehensively towards the unoccupied
+land at the side and back of the building.
+
+"Once outside, who was to see him clamber over that fence and make for
+the shelter of the bush?" he asked. "While you were loitering at the
+front door, Brennan, your man was walking out at the back."
+
+Brennan gnawed his moustache in chagrin.
+
+"But--how did he get out of the dining-room?" Harding exclaimed.
+
+Durham turned slowly and looked steadily into Harding's eyes.
+
+"He walked out, Mr. Harding, walked out through the door."
+
+"The door was shut."
+
+"When you saw it. It was probably closed as noiselessly as it was
+opened--his wife saw to that. Then, as soon as he had slipped out this
+way, she came to your office and threw dust in your eyes by asking where
+her husband was. Just the sort of thing a woman would do. What did he do
+with his keys--the bank keys, I mean?"
+
+"He had them with him."
+
+"Oh, no, Mr. Harding. They would be no further use to him. He must have
+left them behind him. We shall find them somewhere. Let me have a look
+at the safes which were robbed."
+
+"Shall I send off a description of the man to the police in the
+neighbourhood, sir?" Brennan asked.
+
+"Did you not do so at once?" Durham asked, swinging round sharply.
+
+"I was preparing it when you arrived, sir."
+
+"We will look at the safes," Durham said.
+
+Harding had pushed-to the doors of the big safe As he pulled them open
+Durham pointed.
+
+"What keys are those?" he asked.
+
+In the lock of the reserve recess the keys Eustace gave Harding in the
+morning were still hanging. Harding took them out.
+
+"They are the manager's keys," he said. "In the excitement of the
+discovery that all the gold had gone, I must have forgotten to return
+them. I had no idea they were here when you asked me what Eustace had
+done with the keys. I entirely forgot them."
+
+"But he did not, Mr. Harding. Do you know where he kept his private
+papers?"
+
+"That was his private office," Harding replied, pointing to the little
+ante-room.
+
+"When do you expect the relieving officer to arrive?"
+
+"I can hardly say. He may come by train to the junction, in which case
+he should be here about noon to-morrow."
+
+"Then you will be in charge until he arrives?"
+
+"I have telegraphed to the head office reporting that Eustace has
+disappeared and asking for instructions. Until they come, of course, I
+am in charge."
+
+"Then you will come with me while I examine his desk, though I do not
+suppose it contains anything but official papers--now. In the meantime,
+Brennan, send away your description to all the neighbouring
+police-stations and also to head-quarters for general distribution. When
+you have done that you can come back here. I shall be waiting for you."
+
+He followed Harding into the little room.
+
+"You had better go through the papers, Mr. Harding. They will probably
+all relate to the bank's business. I only want to see those which do
+not."
+
+"It was in this drawer he kept his own papers," Harding said, as he
+touched the knob of one of the side drawers.
+
+"Is it locked?"
+
+"No," Harding replied, as he pulled it out. "But it is empty," he added.
+
+"Quite so," Durham replied in an unconcerned voice. "As I expected."
+
+Harding stared at him in perplexity.
+
+"But--but----" he stammered. "I don't understand it. I cannot--I cannot
+believe it of him."
+
+Durham stood silent.
+
+"Only a madman would have done such a thing, and Eustace is no more mad
+than I am," Harding added.
+
+Still Durham said nothing.
+
+"But if he had done such a thing, why did he remain here? Why not get
+away at the same time as he got the gold away? Surely----"
+
+"Would you mind looking through the remainder of the drawers?" Durham
+interrupted.
+
+Harding opened them one after the other, examined the papers they
+contained, and replaced them without making any further remark. The
+search was unavailing so far as private papers were concerned--all were
+connected with the bank. As Harding examined them, Durham stood beside
+the table without a word or a glance at the papers. When the last drawer
+had been opened, gone through, and closed, Harding turned to him.
+
+"There is nothing here except what concerns the bank," he said.
+
+"You are sure he kept all his own papers here?"
+
+"Quite sure. The first drawer I opened was full of them yesterday. He
+had it out after the bank closed last night when I came in to give him
+the cash balance."
+
+"I will see Mrs. Eustace," Durham said shortly. "In the interests of the
+bank I should like you to be present. Will you ask her to come in here?"
+
+"Perhaps she would rather see you in the house."
+
+"As she pleases--if you will ask her."
+
+Harding found her sitting disconsolately in the dining-room and gave her
+Durham's message.
+
+"Very well, I'll see him--here--if you stay."
+
+She spoke without moving her eyes.
+
+"I will be here," he said as he left the room to call Durham.
+
+In the office he found a telegram had just arrived. It was an answer to
+his wire to the head office.
+
+     "Close office. Do all to assist the police. Wallace should arrive
+     noon to-morrow."
+
+He handed the message to Durham, who just glanced at it.
+
+"Is she coming in here or not?" Durham asked.
+
+"She is in the dining-room, and will see you there," Harding answered.
+
+Mrs. Eustace was standing staring out of the window when they entered
+the room.
+
+"I can tell you nothing. I know nothing more than I have already said,"
+she exclaimed as she turned to meet them.
+
+"If you will kindly answer my questions I will be obliged," Durham
+replied. "Can you tell me where your husband kept his private papers?"
+
+"Yes, in his office--that is, as a rule."
+
+"And when he did not keep them there, where were they?"
+
+"Oh, he always kept them there, but sometimes he had some in his pocket.
+Last night----"
+
+"Yes? Last night----?" Durham said as she stopped.
+
+"Oh, it's nothing. Merely that he had some papers in his pocket and
+discovered they were there when he was upstairs."
+
+"Do you know what he did with them?"
+
+"Of course I do. He left them on the dressing-table. They are there
+now."
+
+"Will you show them to me?"
+
+"Mr. Harding, will you take him upstairs? The papers are by the
+looking-glass."
+
+Durham followed Harding upstairs without a word. On the dressing-table a
+small packet of folded documents was pushed half under the mirror.
+Durham picked them up and glanced at them.
+
+"Thank you," he said. "Now we will go down again."
+
+"These are the papers you referred to?" he asked, as soon as they were
+in the dining-room.
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Eustace answered.
+
+Durham laid them on the table in front of him.
+
+"Can you tell me anything about your husband's private affairs?" he
+asked, looking steadily at her.
+
+"I don't quite understand what you mean," she replied slowly.
+
+"In regard to his mining speculations."
+
+Harding saw the momentary start, quickly recovered, that she gave at the
+question.
+
+"Do you know he speculated?"
+
+She sat silent with averted face.
+
+"Do you know he speculated both in shares and horse-racing?"
+
+Still there was no reply, and Durham added, "Speculated and
+lost--heavily?"
+
+"Not heavily," she exclaimed, flashing round upon him. "He did not lose
+heavily. He may have----"
+
+She checked her words suddenly, closing her lips and turning her face
+away.
+
+"Will you please finish your sentence, Mrs. Eustace?"
+
+"He may have lost--sometimes; but he won as well. He had those
+shares--they may yet bring him in a fortune," she said, pointing to the
+papers on the table.
+
+"Do you know if there was ever any official reference to his
+speculations?"
+
+Harding could barely hear the words as, with bowed head, Mrs. Eustace
+replied.
+
+"I did not quite catch your answer," Durham said quietly.
+
+"I said yes, there was--once."
+
+"Did he tell you what was said?"
+
+"I don't know," she said after a few moments' silence. "You had better
+ask the bank. I don't know anything about it."
+
+"Perhaps you know why your husband was appointed to this branch?"
+
+"I don't know anything about it," she replied in a low tone.
+
+"It may save time if I tell you at once, Mrs. Eustace, that the general
+manager of the bank has put me in possession of all information
+regarding your husband--you will not improve the situation by denying
+what I know you thoroughly understand."
+
+Mrs. Eustace looked up and met a glance which gave her the uncomfortable
+sensation of being looked through and through. She lowered her eyes more
+quickly than she had raised them, paled and then flushed blood-red.
+
+"Your husband did not escape through the kitchen," Durham said in his
+even tone of voice.
+
+"I have already said so," Mrs. Eustace replied, scarcely above a
+whisper.
+
+"He left this room by the window."
+
+The blood left her cheeks as she started. Harding saw her hands clasp
+tightly.
+
+"And you secured the window on the inside after he had gone."
+
+"No!"
+
+The monosyllable escaped her lips like the yap of a dog at bay.
+
+"You secured the window on the inside after he had gone," Durham
+repeated in cold, unruffled tones.
+
+Mrs. Eustace sprang to her feet and faced him.
+
+"It's a lie," she cried. "The room was empty when I came to it."
+
+"The room was empty, quite so. And the window was open. You closed and
+secured it."
+
+"I tell you I did not."
+
+"You have already said that you only stood at the kitchen door until you
+went to the office to ask whether your husband was there. Now you say
+the room was empty when you came to it. Which statement do you expect me
+to believe?"
+
+"I don't care what you believe," she cried. "You have no right to ask me
+these questions. I will not answer you. Mr. Harding, I appeal to you. If
+you have no regard for the honour of an absent friend, at least you
+might protect the wife of your friend from insult."
+
+Durham's eyes never wavered as he watched her.
+
+"No insult is offered or intended, Mrs. Eustace," he said quietly. "Mr.
+Harding, in the interests of the bank, as well as in the interests of
+your husband, is desirous, as we all are, of knowing the truth. I will
+ask you one more question: Where were you when Mrs. Burke left the
+dining-room and crossed the passage to the front door?"
+
+Mrs. Eustace, with close-set lips, stood defiantly silent.
+
+"Will you answer that question?" Durham said.
+
+"No, I will not. I will tolerate this no longer."
+
+With a quick, angry gesture she turned to the door.
+
+Durham was on his feet and in front of her before she could take two
+steps.
+
+"Until I have seen your servant, Mrs. Eustace, you will remain here," he
+said. "Will you kindly come with me, Mr. Harding?"
+
+He held the door open while Harding passed out, following him without
+another word.
+
+But there was little to be ascertained from Bessie more than she had
+already told. She heard the door slam and her mistress go to the kitchen
+door, but whether she went on to the dining-room or not, Bessie "didn't
+notice."
+
+"Could you see out of the window at the time?" Durham asked.
+
+"No, sir, I was in the scullery washing up," the girl replied.
+
+Mrs. Eustace, much to Harding's surprise, was still in the dining-room
+on their return. The papers Durham had placed on the table were
+untouched.
+
+"I am sorry to have had to detain you, Mrs. Eustace. For the present I
+have nothing further to ask you. These papers you had better take--I
+have no doubt they were left for you."
+
+"What do you mean--left for me?" she exclaimed.
+
+"A woman of your quick intelligence, Mrs. Eustace, scarcely needs to be
+told," he answered, adding, as he turned to Harding, "I would like a few
+moments with you in the office."
+
+In the little ante-room that Eustace had used as his private office,
+Durham turned the searchlight of his questions upon Harding.
+
+"Have you known Mr. Eustace for very long?"
+
+"I have only known him personally since I came to this branch a few
+weeks ago."
+
+"Did you apply to be sent here?"
+
+"No. I knew nothing about it until I received instructions to come."
+
+"Did you know Mrs. Eustace before you came here?"
+
+"Not as Mrs. Eustace."
+
+"You knew her before she was married?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Am I right in saying that you knew her very well?"
+
+"Yes, I did know her very well."
+
+"Don't think I am attempting to pry into your private affairs, Mr.
+Harding. In a case of this kind, the clues that lead to the unravelling
+of the mystery often lie on the surface in some trifling circumstance
+that seemingly has nothing whatever to do with the main question. You
+have already realised, I take it, that we are concerned with something
+quite distinct from the ordinary class of crime. Perhaps you have not
+had sufficient experience with the criminal class to recognise what was
+apparent to me from the beginning, that in this matter we are following
+the work of one who is a master of his craft."
+
+"So far as that goes, I am absolutely dazed," Harding exclaimed. "The
+more I hear, the more hopelessly confused I grow."
+
+"I am not surprised. You are following the work of someone who is, I am
+quite satisfied, no ordinary criminal, but one of the most astute,
+clever and unscrupulous individuals who ever adopted dishonesty as a
+profession. If I ask you questions which appear to you to be irrelevant
+and possibly impertinent, will you give me credit for being actuated
+only by my sense of duty, and answer those questions as fully and as
+accurately as you can?"
+
+"Certainly," Harding replied.
+
+"Thank you. Now, will you tell me this--Were you ever engaged to Mrs.
+Eustace before she married her present husband?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did she break it off, or did you?"
+
+"She--she married."
+
+"She married Eustace, while she was practically engaged to you?"
+
+"While she was actually engaged to me."
+
+"Then he must have known of your existence?"
+
+"I assume so, but--well, nothing was ever said about it between us. I
+will tell you exactly what happened. The letters I had written to her,
+the presents I had given her, and her engagement ring, were returned to
+me in a packet through the post with a piece of wedding-cake. Until I
+came here and met her, I did not know to whom she was married. Whether
+Eustace knew we had once been engaged I do not know. I never referred to
+it."
+
+"You never knew that, in applying for an assistant, he named you
+personally to the general manager of the bank and gave as a reason a
+long-standing friendship?"
+
+The look of astonishment which showed on Harding's face was sufficient
+answer.
+
+"Yet it is what happened--I have the information from your general
+manager."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+MRS. BURKE'S PRESENTIMENT
+
+
+Waroona Downs was fifteen miles from Waroona township by the road, and
+ten as the crow flies, the intrusion of a rocky and precipitous range
+making it impossible to take the shorter and more direct route. One had
+perforce to use the road, and the road turned and twisted where the
+level plains were broken by the range, passing, at one stage, through a
+narrow gorge hemmed in by steep, rock-strewn heights, on which a growth
+of stunted gums flourished sufficiently to hide the jagged boulders from
+the road below.
+
+Half-way through the gorge a stream, having its source in a series of
+springs hidden among the tumbled rocks, swept across the track in a
+shallow ford. The road dipped to it on both sides, the constant flow of
+water having stripped away the soil and left a barrier of naked rock
+which dammed back the stream to form a wide pool sheltered among the
+hills and fringed by a more luxurious growth of vegetation than clothed
+the heights above.
+
+The last gleam of the setting sun shed a ruddy tinge on the topmost
+branches of the trees as Durham reached where the road dipped to the
+stream. The subdued light in the pass made the distances elusive and
+turned the shadows into subtle mysteries of purpling greys. The air was
+full of the scent from the thickly growing vegetation, but, save for the
+rippling swish of the water trickling across the track, the silence was
+unbroken.
+
+Durham reined in his horse and sat loosely in his saddle as his glance
+swept over the tangled masses of undergrowth, the tumbled boulders
+peeping here and there from amid the shadows, the precipitous sides of
+the pass, and the broken ruggedness of the ground beyond. But it was not
+an appreciation of the picturesque, nor a recognition of the poetry in
+landscape which held him. He saw in the place only such a spot as the
+men concerned in the robbery of the bank would select for hiding their
+booty. Within that maze of rock and tree and mountain, how many nooks
+there must be to serve the purpose.
+
+Had he been occupied only with the matter of the robbery, he would have
+started there and then to satisfy himself whether his surmise was
+correct, and whether the missing thousands were not lying perhaps a few
+yards away, hidden among the undergrowth and boulders. But there was
+more than the robbery in his mind; it was not alone to make inquiries on
+the subject that he had ridden away on a journey Brennan could have
+accomplished equally well. There was a much more personal note in the
+affair.
+
+Durham was in love, and with a woman he had only met once, and of whom
+he knew nothing more than her name.
+
+Travelling one day by coach, he had, for a fellow-passenger, a woman. A
+dozen signs showed him that she was a new arrival in the country, unused
+to colonial ways, unversed in colonial methods. It was natural for him,
+at such places as they stopped for meals, to extend to her a share of
+the attention his official position secured for him. It was also natural
+for him to drift into conversation with her.
+
+The companion of his coaching experience was named Burke--Nora
+Burke--she had told him. Nora Burke was one of the victims of the bank
+robbery, and, apparently, the last person who had had anything to say to
+the vanished bank manager. It was more to ascertain whether the heroine
+of the coach journey were the same as the owner of Waroona Downs, than
+to learn what Eustace had or had not said, that Durham determined to
+ride out to the station.
+
+Even as his glance wandered over the picturesque scene before him, he
+was impatient to press on--five miles had yet to be covered before he
+reached Waroona Downs. He pulled the bridle with a jerk and rode
+steadily until he was clear of the range. Then he put his horse at a
+gallop and kept the pace till he saw the gleam of a light from the
+window of a house set back from the road. In the dusk he could not make
+out all the detail of the place, but Brennan told him the homestead was
+the first house he would come to after clearing the range.
+
+He swung on to the side track leading to the house. As he came up to it
+he saw the figure of a woman silhouetted against the light.
+
+"Is this Mrs. Burke's?" he called out.
+
+"And if it is, what might you want?"
+
+His heart leaped as he heard the answer--despite the sharp ring, sharp
+almost to harshness, he recognised the voice. It was that of the
+companion of his coach journey.
+
+A low verandah, about three feet from the ground, ran along the front of
+the house. It was on the verandah the woman stood. Durham sprang from
+the saddle, slipped his bridle over a post, and stepped up the short
+flight of stairs.
+
+The woman had drawn back into the shadow beyond the window. As he
+advanced, the light from the lamp within fell upon him, revealing to her
+the uniform he wore.
+
+With a soft, melodious laugh she came forward.
+
+"Why didn't you say you were a trooper?" she said. "I thought----"
+
+"I am Sub-Inspector Durham," he said quickly.
+
+"Oh, indeed," she replied.
+
+She met his glance without a suggestion of recognition in her own.
+
+"I have ridden out to ask you one or two questions in regard to the
+robbery at the bank, of which I understand you have heard," he said.
+
+"Ask me questions? And pray what have I to do with the robbery, save
+that I am an unfortunate victim of the dishonesty of men you and the
+rest of the police ought to be chasing at this very moment? Ask me
+questions? It's me who has need to ask them of you. Where are my stolen
+papers? Where----"
+
+"If you will give me your assistance by answering the few questions I
+wish to ask you, I have no doubt that your papers, and all the rest of
+the stolen property, will very soon be recovered," Durham said. "I
+understand you saw Mr. Eustace this forenoon. Will you tell me----"
+
+"Ask Mr. Eustace himself," she retorted. "He can tell you what I said."
+
+She stood in front of him, with her hands hanging down hidden in the
+folds of her dress.
+
+"I will not detain you long. I have been travelling since early to-day
+and have to ride back to the township to-night."
+
+"Travelling all day? Sure you must be tired!" she exclaimed. "Come
+inside and rest--this affair has so upset me I'm forgetting that Irish
+hospitality ought to be the first rule for Irish folk wherever they may
+happen to be. Come in, come in."
+
+She led the way into the room where the lamp was burning. As she stepped
+in through the long open window Durham saw she was carrying a heavy
+revolver in the half-hidden hand.
+
+"You were evidently prepared for emergencies," he said.
+
+She laughed as she laid the weapon on the table.
+
+"After what happened to-day, Mr. Durham, I'm all nerves. When I heard
+you riding to the house I was frightened lest it should be some more of
+the scoundrels coming to see what else they could rob from me. You see,
+I'm all alone here except for poor old Patsy Malone--he's just a poor
+half-witted fool who was with my husband and my husband's father before
+him, and he thinks, poor old creature, that wherever I go he has to go
+too. I had to bring him out here with me to save the scandal he would
+have made. Sure, he's harmless enough anywhere, but what could he do if
+some of those thieving scoundrels rode up here and robbed me of the last
+few papers and things those bank rascals have not yet had the chance of
+stealing? But sit down, Mr. Durham, sit down. I'll tell the old fool to
+get you some tea--a cup won't harm you after your long ride. And maybe
+you'll take just a bit of something? You'll be hungry."
+
+She was out of the room before Durham could answer, but he heard her
+calling for her ancient retainer and giving him instructions with the
+same volubility that she had shown when speaking to him.
+
+"It won't be a minute, Mr. Durham. Luckily the fire was still in, for
+Patsy was only finished washing the dishes scarcely five minutes ago.
+And what is the news from the township? Have they caught the robbers
+yet? Or do you think they have very far to look for them if they really
+want the man who did it? Now there's a foolish thing for me to say! I
+forgot. Of course, it's yourself that has come up to catch him. You'll
+forgive me, Mr. Durham, but I can assure you I never had so great a
+shock to my nerves as I had to-day. What's to become of me now that all
+those documents are gone? You see, when I came away my solicitor in
+Dublin--you see, he was my husband's solicitor and his father's
+solicitor before him, so, as you may judge, he is an old man, though
+not so old as old Patsy out there--but, as I was saying, he said----"
+
+She commenced speaking as she entered the room, continued as she walked
+to the table and sat down, and appeared to Durham as though she were
+going on indefinitely.
+
+"Will you pardon me one moment," he said. "I left my horse at----"
+
+"Of course, of course," she cried, starting up. "Sure the poor beast
+will be tired, too, and hungry. Wait, wait, Mr. Durham, I'll send old
+Patsy----"
+
+"Oh, no, don't trouble. I'll just take the saddle off and turn him into
+the yard. It's Brennan's horse and had a feed before we started."
+
+He was out on the verandah before she could leave the room.
+
+When he returned, Mrs. Burke was watching a bent and decrepit-looking
+old man laying the cloth. He gave a furtive glance at Durham as he
+entered the room.
+
+"Go on with your work, Patsy, go on, and don't dawdle. Don't I tell you
+Mr. Durham is both tired and hungry? Never mind looking at folk. Go on
+now."
+
+Patsy mumbled an inaudible reply as he stooped over the table.
+
+"You must bear with him, Mr. Durham," she said as soon as the old man
+had left the room. "He's been so long with the Burke family he feels
+he's entitled to know everyone who comes into the place. You see what a
+fragile old creature he is--and he's all I've got in the place if some
+of those scoundrels come and attack us."
+
+She jumped out of her seat and paced from one end of the room to the
+other.
+
+"Sure I was a fool," she exclaimed. "I ought to have asked Brennan to
+come out. He's half Irish, leastways he's Irish born in Australia, and
+he'd have understood."
+
+"I don't think you need be afraid, Mrs. Burke," Durham said quietly.
+"You're not likely to be troubled."
+
+"Oh, you don't know. You're a great strong man and able to fight a dozen
+maybe. But a lonely woman--haven't they got my papers, and won't they
+think that there's a lot more in the house and money too, maybe, and
+jewels? And what is there to keep them from robbing the place and
+burning it down over our heads, with only that poor old fool out there
+and a poor weak woman like myself to face?"
+
+He looked at her as she paced to and fro, her handsome figure moving
+with the grace of a Delilah and her wonderful eyes flashing a greater
+eloquence than her tongue, as her glance from time to time caught his.
+
+"You need not be afraid," he repeated. "Those responsible for the
+robbery of the bank will not be anxious to appear anywhere in public for
+some time."
+
+She stood in the centre of the room where the full glare of the lamp
+fell upon her.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," she said, "I don't know. I would not trust them.
+Besides----"
+
+"Besides what?"
+
+"Well, I was thinking that nobody knows who they are for certain, and
+what difference would it make to them, or to any of us, if they rode
+down the main street of Waroona under the very noses of yourself and all
+the troopers in Australia?"
+
+"That is scarcely likely, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"I don't know," she repeated. "You don't know who they are, or you would
+have them inside the walls of the lock-up. Now tell me, have you any
+idea?"
+
+"I cannot tell you that, Mrs. Burke. What I can tell you is to put out
+of your mind entirely any fear that they will pay you a visit."
+
+She shook her head and resumed her walk to and fro.
+
+"Suppose they come?" she exclaimed, halting at the table opposite to
+him. "Suppose they come at dead of night? I might be murdered in my bed
+while I was asleep and only know it when I woke up to find myself
+killed."
+
+Durham laughed.
+
+"It's true, and you know it, Mr. Durham. Sure I never was so shaken and
+nervous as I am to-night! Could you send Brennan out when you return to
+the township?"
+
+"I am afraid that is impossible," he said.
+
+"But why? Sure the fellow has nothing to do but sleep, and he may as
+well sleep here as in his own quarters."
+
+"He is on duty to-night."
+
+"On duty? Now that the bank's robbed, I suppose he's guarding it? The
+horse is stolen, so you lock the door of the empty stable, Mr. Durham;
+but where there's a chance of another horse being stolen you let it look
+after itself as best it may. And that's what you call doing your duty
+and earning the money we poor unfortunate taxpayers have to provide for
+you!"
+
+"I am afraid I cannot discuss that matter with you, Mrs. Burke," he said
+coldly.
+
+"No!" she retorted hotly. "No, you can't. All you can do is to put the
+only constable in the place to guard an empty bank----"
+
+"There is a reason why Brennan should remain in the township to-night.
+It is therefore quite impossible for him to come out here--as well as
+being unnecessary."
+
+She flounced round and resumed her rapid striding until old Patsy
+appeared with the tea.
+
+"Make haste, now, Patsy, make haste!" she exclaimed. "Sure you are the
+slowest old fool ever set on the earth to delay and keep people
+waiting."
+
+The old man, mumbling to himself, set the meal and left the room.
+
+"Now, Mr. Durham, just make yourself at home with such scant hospitality
+as I can show you. If it was in Ireland, sure I'd give you a meal worth
+the eating, but here, with me not knowing whether I'm to own this place
+or not, and without a soul about it save useless old Patsy to do a
+hand's turn, you'll understand it's only a poor pot-luck sort of spread
+at the best I can offer. But such as it is, it is offered with a free
+heart, though you are going to leave me to be murdered by the scoundrels
+whenever they like to come."
+
+"You will laugh at your fears to-morrow," Durham said as he drew up to
+the table.
+
+"They are not fears, Mr. Durham. You don't know; you're not Irish, and
+so don't understand, but Brennan would. It's not fear. It's what we term
+presentiment. Not all the Irish have it, but only some of them. It's my
+misfortune to be one of them. I have it. Sure I was tortured the whole
+of last night, what with anxiety and sleeplessness and worry, and all
+through that wretched bank affair. It was presentiment. I tried to laugh
+myself out of it, but as soon as I got into the township this very
+morning, what did I hear? Of course, you know. Well, now I have just the
+same feeling that to-night there's to be more dirty work by those
+thieving scoundrels, and it's here they're coming this time, here--and
+I'm to be left to their mercy, just one poor weak, defenceless woman and
+an old half-witted fool of a man. It makes me just----"
+
+She left her sentence uncompleted as she turned away, with a break in
+her voice, and stood by the open window leading out on to the verandah.
+As Durham glanced at her he saw her shoulders heave and her hands
+convulsively clasp.
+
+Through the chill of her forgetfulness the love impulse surged.
+
+"If you are really so distressed about the matter," he said quickly, "if
+you really fear you will be attacked to-night, I will stay here till the
+morning."
+
+With a magnificent gesture she faced round from the window and came
+swiftly towards him, her eyes sparkling, her lips wreathed in a happy
+smile.
+
+"Oh, what a weight of care you have taken from my mind!" she cried. "I
+can rest now in peace and comfort without thinking that every moment may
+be my last on earth."
+
+"But if they come they may kill me. What then?" Durham asked, with a
+smile which had more than amusement in it.
+
+She flashed her brilliant glance at him, raising her eyes quickly to his
+and drooping them slowly behind the shelter of the dark, heavy lashes.
+
+"No," she said softly. "You are too brave a man--they will not dare to
+come while you are here."
+
+"And so your presentiment passes into thin air?" he said.
+
+"It's relieved," she said. "Maybe I'm too timid--that affair has upset
+me so much. Now tell me, do you really think you know who the thieves
+are?"
+
+She sat down at the table opposite to him and leaned her chin on her
+hands, her loose sleeves falling away from her arms and revealing, to
+the best advantage, their rounded whiteness. Into her eyes there came
+the flicker of a challenge, the sparkle of mischief which gave a new
+character to her face, a different expression to all he had hitherto
+seen. There was flippant raillery in her voice as she repeated her
+question.
+
+"Do you really think you will find out who the thieves are?" she
+exclaimed.
+
+"One I already know," he replied, fixing his eyes on her as his square
+jaws set firm in his effort to refrain from allowing his features to
+relax into the smile which was hovering so near.
+
+For a moment the lines round her eyes hardened, and the sparkle became a
+flash before it melted again as a rippling laugh came from her lips.
+
+"How terribly stern you look!" she cried in a mocking voice. "Do you
+ever think of anything but your work, Mr. Durham?"
+
+"Not when I have anything at all difficult on hand," he replied.
+
+"Then this does puzzle you?"
+
+"It has its difficulties; but, for all that, it is a problem I shall
+solve."
+
+Again the rippling laugh rang through the room.
+
+"Why, of course! Was there ever a case the police had in hand where they
+did not have a clue at the very beginning?"
+
+"Several," he answered. "A clever, resourceful criminal, Mrs. Burke,
+always has the advantage. Where they fail ultimately is in becoming too
+sure of themselves and too forgetful of the network of snares laid to
+entrap them and always waiting to trip them."
+
+"I suppose that is so," she said slowly. "I suppose that is so. Poor
+things--I can't help pitying them, Mr. Durham. One never knows what lies
+behind their wickedness--what it was which first sent them rolling down
+the slope that ends--often--on the gallows."
+
+She shuddered as she spoke, averting her face from him.
+
+"This is a dismal subject," he exclaimed. "Let us change it. Will you
+answer the questions I want to ask you about the bank affair?"
+
+"Ask them. Oh! ask the wretched things and let me get it over. Sure I
+begin to hate the mention of it," she exclaimed as she shrugged her
+shoulders impatiently.
+
+Without apparently heeding her objection, he asked her to say whether
+anyone was in the passage as she passed from the dining-room to the
+entrance of the bank.
+
+"Of course there was. Didn't I tell Brennan at once?" she said.
+
+"Who was it?"
+
+"His wife."
+
+"Brennan's?"
+
+"Brennan's! No! The bank manager's; she was just outside the
+door--listening, I'll be bound."
+
+"You are sure of that?"
+
+"Sure that she was listening? Well, isn't she a woman? What else would
+she be doing?"
+
+"That is all I want to ask you," he said quietly.
+
+She looked at him wonderingly.
+
+"All?" she asked. "You rode out from Waroona merely to ask me that bit
+of a question?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Well, then," she exclaimed, "if that's how you're going to catch the
+thieves it's good-bye to my papers."
+
+The eyes which met his told of anger and indignation.
+
+"You expected a rigid cross-examination?" he asked, with a smile.
+
+"I expected questions which would have some bearing on the affair," she
+retorted.
+
+"Your experience in this sort of thing is somewhat limited, Mrs. Burke.
+A tangled skein is unravelled by following a mere thread, not by tearing
+at the entire mass. I have hold of a thread, and I am following it."
+
+"And where will it lead you?"
+
+"Where? It does not matter where so long as the tangle is made
+straight."
+
+"While my papers and my----"
+
+"You need not be uneasy," he interrupted. "They are just as safe as
+though you held them in your hand."
+
+"Safe for those who stole them," she retorted, with a short, satirical
+laugh.
+
+"Safe for you," he answered. "You have not been long enough in the
+country to realise how complete a system of detection we have here. I
+have never felt more certain of securing both the culprits and the
+stolen property than I am in this case."
+
+Again she gave a short, satirical laugh.
+
+"Oh, yes," she said. "Of course. You know exactly where the thieves are
+and where they have hidden what was taken and also where they are
+hiding. You can put your hands on them whenever you like. One does not
+need to come to Australia to hear that sort of romance, Mr. Durham; I
+hoped rather that one would not hear it in Australia, but you police are
+as capable at blundering and bungling and bluffing here as elsewhere."
+
+"I am neither bungling nor bluffing," he answered quietly.
+
+"You are doing both," she replied warmly. "What are you doing here now?
+Why have you come bothering me with ridiculous questions? What can I
+tell you more than the bank people themselves? Or is it that you think I
+am the thief? Why don't you say at once you suspect me--old Patsy and
+myself? Sure it would be in keeping with the rest of it--wasting your
+time and mine by coming out to ask who was in the passage when I left
+the dining-room! What has that to do with my loss? Do you think I care
+whether Mrs. Eustace heard what I told her husband? I'd say it to her
+face if she likes, just as I said it to his. I told him he ought to be
+arrested, and I say so to you. I'd arrest him and his wife and his
+assistant and his servant--everyone in the place if I had my way."
+
+He was watching the light flashing in her eyes, watching and admiring.
+The full rich tones of her voice vibrated with the heat of her words,
+her bosom rose and fell as in her indignation wave after wave of
+expression swept across her face, each one intensifying the charm she
+had for him.
+
+"I suppose you include me in your list of suspects," she blurted out as
+he did not speak. "Why don't you say so at once? Your questions
+certainly suggest it."
+
+"Do they?" he asked, with a smile which irritated her.
+
+"Yes, they do. What else do they suggest? It would be quite in keeping
+with the rest of the business--you riding out here to ask me pointless
+questions while the people most likely to have been concerned in the
+robbery are left alone. They are known, I suppose you will say, where I
+am a stranger, someone you have never seen before----"
+
+"You are wrong," he interrupted, still smiling; "I have seen you
+before."
+
+Her eyes concentrated on his with keen intensity.
+
+"When? Where?" she asked sharply.
+
+"We were fellow-passengers by a coach four or five months back. You have
+forgotten me, but I"--now that the personal note had been struck, the
+note he wished so much to sound and yet shrank from, he was almost
+carried away by it; by an effort he checked himself, and instead of
+telling her all that the meeting had meant for him, he added, "I rarely
+forget a face when I have once seen it."
+
+She flashed a swift glance at him, reading in his eyes, in his face, in
+his attitude, the confirmation of what she knew from the tone of his
+voice.
+
+"But you--you do not--remember me," he said slowly as she did not
+reply. He saw the glance, saw the fleeting questioning light in her
+eyes, and with the fatuity bred of love-blindness, misread it.
+
+"I do remember--distinctly," she answered softly. "I recognised you as
+you came on to the verandah. I thought it was you who had forgotten--or
+did not wish to remember."
+
+As she spoke the last words softly, demurely, she raised her eyes to his
+and looked steadily at him with no sign on her face of her recent
+indignation.
+
+"I not wish to remember? I not wish to remember you?" he exclaimed in a
+ringing tone. "Why--it was because I have never ceased to remember that
+I came here to-night. Your name was mentioned at Waroona--it was the
+only clue you gave me when we parted, the only clue I had to follow when
+I tried to find you, tried to trace you every day since then. I have
+never ceased to seek for you, never ceased to think of you, nor to
+remember the day I met you. Had you not been here to-night, had I found
+it was someone else with a similar name, I should not have forgotten
+you--I shall never do that--never."
+
+She sat back in her chair, her eyes downcast, a slight frown puckering
+her brows. He saw the frown as she spoke and it checked his words, but
+he continued to watch her steadily, noting the graceful, yet seemingly
+unstudied way in which the wavy mass of her luxuriant hair was coiled on
+her head, the clear whiteness of her skin, the heavy fringe of her
+drooping lashes. Even as he watched she raised her eyes to his.
+
+For one brief moment she allowed them to rest, filled with an
+earnestness and depth of softness that made his pulses leap again.
+
+Impulsively he stretched out his hand to her across the table.
+
+She lowered her glance, and a faint smile flickered round her lips.
+
+"I must away," she said softly, as she arose. "You will need a good
+night's rest after your long and wearying ride."
+
+He pushed away his chair, as he started abruptly to his feet. The warmth
+of his impulse went cold.
+
+"I shall start with the dawn or before it," he said, keeping his eyes
+averted from the glamour of her face. "I have a riding-cloak. I will
+take this hammock-chair on to the verandah. Don't let me disturb you."
+
+"But you cannot go in the morning without a bite," she replied.
+
+"I shall require nothing," he said brusquely. "I shall be away before
+you are awake. I am merely staying to set your mind at rest on the
+question of the house being visited and robbed. Don't let me disturb
+you--or detain you."
+
+She bent her head slowly and gracefully.
+
+"As you will," she replied in a gentle voice. "Good night, Mr. Durham."
+
+Without waiting for a reply she turned and went from the room, closing
+the door quietly after her.
+
+He stood where she had left him, staring fixedly at the closed door.
+
+"I was a fool to come, a greater fool to speak," he muttered savagely.
+"What satisfaction is there in knowing who she is, when----"
+
+He swung round petulantly, diving his hand into his pocket for a pipe.
+When it was filled and lighted, he dragged his chair out on to the
+verandah, lowered the lamp flame to a glimmer, pushed-to the window, and
+lay back in the chair, blowing furious clouds of smoke out upon the
+night and staring, with unseeing eyes, into the dark.
+
+But always before him there floated the vision of the speaking grey-blue
+eyes looking at him from the shelter of their dark-fringed lashes;
+always in his brain he heard the gentle melody of her voice as she had
+last spoken to him, and always there came to taunt and goad him the
+jarring memory of the half-mocking way in which she had pushed back upon
+himself the frank revelation he had made. But though it jarred, it had
+no power to lessen the fascination she exercised over him. Despite her
+rebuff, despite the seeming hopelessness of his infatuation, it held
+him. The more he tried to force it back, the stronger it grew; the
+greater, the more beautiful and more lovable did Mrs. Burke appear to
+be.
+
+The jarring note passed from his memory. Under the soothing quiet of the
+night and the stillness of the bush, looming dark and mysterious against
+the sky, scarcely less sombre with only the light of the stars to
+illumine it, his fancy was filled with the image he had carried in his
+mind for so many months. The weariness of an arduous day added its
+softening influence, and he drifted out upon the sea of dreams and
+thence into a deep slumber, while yet his pipe was unfinished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE FACE AT THE WINDOW
+
+
+While Harding sat talking to Brennan in the office, Bessie came to him
+with a note.
+
+"Mrs. Eustace asked me to give you this, sir," the girl said, as she
+handed it to him at the door.
+
+He tore open the envelope. A single sheet of paper was enclosed, on
+which was written, "For the sake of the bygone days, come to me."
+
+"Where is Mrs. Eustace?" he asked.
+
+"She's in her room, Mr. Harding, in her little sitting-room."
+
+It was one of the rooms where he had never been, a tiny chamber at the
+far end of the passage which she had made into a boudoir. Once he had
+seen into it through the open door, seen the daintiness with which it
+was decorated, a daintiness redolent of her as he had known her in the
+days when, for him, the world held no other woman.
+
+And she had chosen this as the place where they should meet!
+
+He knocked at the door, and heard her voice answer, bidding him to come
+in. She was sitting in a cane lounge-chair, listless, pale, and
+weary-eyed.
+
+As he entered she gave him one swift glance and then looked away.
+
+"Do you wish to see me, Mrs. Eustace?" he asked in a cold, formal voice.
+
+She did not reply at once, but sat with her head bowed and her hands
+loosely clasped in her lap.
+
+"If you will say what you wish to as quickly as you can, I shall be
+obliged," he said. "Brennan is in the office, and I have some matters to
+arrange with him."
+
+Her head was raised slowly, steadily, until her face was turned full
+towards him.
+
+"Will you please arrange them first?" she replied. "I want to say
+something which may take some time, and I--I would not inconvenience the
+bank."
+
+"I would rather hear what you have to say first, Mrs. Eustace."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"It is not a matter I can sum up in a few brief sentences," she replied.
+"If you cannot arrange things with Brennan and then come to me here,
+pray forget I mentioned anything about it."
+
+He moved uneasily as she averted her face and sat back in her chair.
+
+"I will see what I can do," he said shortly, and left the room.
+
+When he returned to the office he found Brennan talking to Bessie, who
+had brought him some supper and a couple of blankets with which to make
+a bed on the floor. Brennan nodded towards them as Bessie disappeared.
+
+"You know the idea of my being here at all, don't you?" he asked.
+
+"To tell you the truth, I don't," Harding replied.
+
+"The Sub-Inspector fancies someone may try to get back to learn what he
+can about our doings. You know who will most likely be asked, and so you
+see what it means when, as soon as I am here, and before I say a word
+about staying, these things are brought in. As if there is likely to be
+any sleep for me with the chance of the Sub-Inspector riding up any hour
+and catching me off duty. But it shows what's in the wind, doesn't it?"
+
+"Mrs. Eustace has asked me to discuss something with her," Harding said
+quietly. "She knows you are here to-night."
+
+"Oh, yes, Mr. Harding. She knows that, I've no doubt, but how did she or
+the girl know I was to be on duty here all the night? Don't you see?
+Supposing the Sub-Inspector is right, and a certain person we know wants
+to hear all that had happened since he went away, is he likely to come
+while I am here? It is not difficult to put a lighted lamp in a window,
+or to leave a blind pulled up or drawn down, is it? Anything of the kind
+is enough to give him a warning that the coast is clear or that there is
+danger ahead."
+
+"Oh, but we can easily stop that," Harding exclaimed. "We can easily
+prevent any signal being used."
+
+"If you know what the signal is," Brennan said. "But if you don't know,
+what are you to do?"
+
+"We shall have to watch."
+
+"That's it, we shall have to watch and take care nobody knows it,"
+Brennan replied in a low tone. "Have you a revolver?"
+
+"No. The one we kept in the bank was stolen from the drawer with the
+money."
+
+"Then slip this into your pocket," Brennan said, as he passed a bright
+nickel-plated "bull-dog" to Harding. "It's loaded in all the chambers
+and has a snap trigger; but it's no good for a long shot, though it
+makes as much noise as a service carbine. Don't hesitate to use it if
+anything happens--the noise will let me know, and there's no danger of
+hitting anyone with it unless you are a better shot than I am."
+
+"But where are you going?"
+
+Brennan jerked his head towards the door.
+
+"You see me off the premises and then tell the girl to fetch those
+blankets away again. After that, keep your eyes open and rest assured
+that as soon as you let off the barker I've given you, I shall not be
+far off. If there is any arrangement such as I have suggested, my going
+now will put them off their guard and our gentleman will get the signal
+to make his call as expected. Bringing in those blankets has given the
+game away--to me it shows just what is in the wind."
+
+When he had seen Brennan off the premises, Harding told Bessie to remove
+the blankets from the office, and returned to the little room.
+
+The door was ajar when he reached it, but there was no answer to his
+rap. He pushed it open and entered. Mrs. Eustace was not there.
+
+He turned, and came face to face with her as he stood in the doorway,
+though he had not heard her approach.
+
+"I did not hear you coming," he exclaimed.
+
+"No, I am wearing light shoes," she answered. "But won't you sit down?
+Have you made all your arrangements? I don't want to begin to say what I
+wish if you will have to go away before I have finished."
+
+"There is nothing to call me away now. Brennan has gone," he said, as he
+took the chair she indicated.
+
+"Before I begin, I must ask you to forgive me for mentioning the subject
+at all," she said slowly.
+
+She sat facing him and, up to that moment, had kept her eyes fixed on
+him; but as she ceased speaking she glanced aside until her head was
+bowed as it had been previously. He took advantage of the opportunity to
+give one quick look round. The chair in which he sat was so placed that
+the profile of the person occupying it was thrown by the light of the
+lamp directly upon the window-blind. The window faced the bush at the
+back of the bank.
+
+He moved his chair until his shadow fell on the wall, but then the lamp
+was between her and himself, and he could not watch her face.
+
+"I will take this chair," he said shortly, as he stepped to the one
+where she had been sitting when he first came to the room. From it he
+commanded not only a complete view of her, but also out of the window,
+for the blind, pulled down to the full extent, was slightly askew, and
+left a space between it and the window-pane. Through that space he could
+see across the yard to the fence running round the allotment, and beyond
+it to the dark line of the bush, rendered the darker at the moment by
+the soft sheen of the rising moon showing above it.
+
+A silence followed his movement, a silence during which she fidgeted
+uneasily and impatiently.
+
+"You do not answer," she said presently. "Shall I go on?"
+
+"I am waiting for you to do so," he replied.
+
+"You will forgive me for mentioning this subject?"
+
+"You have not mentioned any subject yet, Mrs. Eustace. I don't know what
+it is you wish to talk about."
+
+"I am afraid it is very distasteful to you. I am not surprised if it is,
+but--if you knew everything in connection with it, you might think
+differently. That is why I want to tell you."
+
+"Yes," he said indifferently, as she paused.
+
+"You do not want to speak of it," she said again. "But I must explain--I
+ought to have done so directly you came up here. I want to explain my
+conduct to you when I returned your----"
+
+"There is no need," he interrupted her. "That matter was at an end at
+once. There is no benefit to be gained by attempting to revive it."
+
+"I do not seek to revive it," she retorted, colouring at his words.
+"Surely if I wish to set straight what I know is not straight, I am not
+seeking to revive it? I wish to make one thing clear to you. You have
+not known Charlie as long as I have. Neither do you know him as well as
+I do. In the face of the accusations made by that police inspector
+anything may be said or suspected."
+
+He did not reply, and she went on.
+
+"You, hearing Charlie painted in the blackest colours, are not likely to
+raise any protest either to yourself or to anyone else. You will rather
+believe all ill of him and will most likely impute things to him he
+never did. One thing I do not want blamed on to him. Those letters and
+things which were sent back to you, I sent--I sent them entirely
+myself--Charlie did not send them--I sent them."
+
+She looked up at him quickly and then away as though she feared to meet
+his eyes.
+
+"Is that all you wished to tell me?" he asked.
+
+"I wished to tell you--all about it. I do not want you to blame Charlie.
+It was not his fault--nothing was his fault. I was a silly, flighty girl
+and fancied myself in love with everyone, whereas, really, I never cared
+at all, not until I met him. I don't want you to think he was to blame,
+because, if you do, you may want to be revenged on him, and now you have
+this opportunity you may take it. If you believe me and realise he had
+nothing whatever to do with my changing my mind, more than to come into
+my life, as he did, then you may sympathise with him in his present
+trouble and save him all you can."
+
+She did not attempt to look at him again as she spoke. He leaned back in
+his chair and turned his glance away from her, away to the space between
+the window and the blind. The first glint of the moon was stealing over
+the dark line of the bush and spreading over the open country between it
+and the line of fence. He could see, indistinctly, what seemed to be a
+heavy shadow moving slowly away from the trees.
+
+"It is a subject on which I would rather say nothing, Mrs. Eustace," he
+said presently, without removing his eyes from the window. "If you wish
+to speak about it, and you think it will ease your mind in any way, I
+will listen to all you wish to say. But do not expect me to reply to
+you. Do not expect me to express any opinion. I do not wish to appear
+harsh, but I must tell you that so far as I am concerned, the curtain
+was rung down upon the last act of my romance when my letters were
+returned--was rung down to remain down for ever."
+
+"I was afraid it would be a distasteful subject to you," she said; "but
+I must talk about it--I must. I have wanted to tell you for so long--I
+wanted to write to you and explain after the things were sent off,
+but--but it was so difficult. I felt how horrible it was of me, how
+horrible and how mean, never to say one word, but just throw everything
+in your face after--after all you had done for me. I deserve to suffer
+what I am going through now--I deserve everything. It was so
+contemptible of me to allow myself to be--to do what I did," she added
+quickly, and he felt rather than saw the way she glanced at him, for he
+was still staring out through the narrow opening between the window and
+the blind, away at the curious dark shadowy patch which was slowly
+moving further and further away from the line of thickly growing trees.
+
+"Won't you say one word? Not even that you forgive me?"
+
+Her voice was soft and gentle--the voice he remembered having heard so
+often in the bygone days--the days for whose sake she had appealed to
+him to come to her. He leaned forward in his chair, staring through the
+little slit of space between the blind and the window, intent upon
+distinguishing what it was he saw, resenting what he believed to be her
+efforts to beguile him.
+
+"Do you hate me so much?"
+
+Scarcely above a whisper the words reached him, a whisper with tears in
+it, and his heart shrank at the sound. He turned quickly towards her.
+
+She started impulsively to her feet and held out her hands to him.
+
+"Fred!" she exclaimed.
+
+He sat unmoved, for the shadow in the distance was growing more and more
+distinct, and the suspicion with which he regarded her drove away every
+particle of commiseration, and made him blind to the emotion welling up
+in her eyes, hostile to the pathos in her voice.
+
+She clasped her hands and let them drop limply in front of her as she
+sank into her chair again.
+
+"Oh, I am so lonely, so lonely," she murmured, "I don't know what to do.
+If you would only help me. I know I behaved horribly to you, vilely; but
+surely--surely you have some pity for me in my misfortune. I have no one
+to turn to--no one--no one. If you would only help me to understand--if
+you would only talk the matter over with me, it would be some relief."
+
+"There can be no benefit in talking over what has passed--the best thing
+is to forget it ever happened. That is what I have striven to do. If you
+returned my letters of your own free will, you were merely exercising a
+right to which you were perfectly entitled. You preferred Eustace to
+me, that is all."
+
+"All?" she echoed in a tone of amazement. "All? Is that what you
+thought? Is that what you think?"
+
+"What else can I think?" he retorted. "If you chose for yourself----"
+
+She sprang up and faced him with widely opened, gleaming eyes.
+
+"I did not," she cried. "I did not. There! Now you know. It was a----"
+
+She stopped abruptly, staring with eyes so full of entreaty that he
+looked away from her lest the emotion roused by her words, by her
+attitude and her eyes, carried him away at a moment when he required
+above all things complete self-control. To avoid her eyes he turned once
+more to the window--the moving shadow had grown clearer--it had split in
+twain, and he could distinctly see the forms of two horsemen riding
+swiftly towards the bank.
+
+The sight sent a chill through him; he recoiled from the woman whose
+pleading a moment before had thrilled him, recoiled from her as from
+some reptile. While she was appealing to him, pleading with him, the man
+she was expecting--whom she was even ready to vilify in order to throw
+dust in the eyes of the one who was a menace to him--was coming in
+response, probably, to a signal given by the clear, lamp-lit
+window-blind.
+
+He faced her where she stood, his eyes hard and cold, his mouth set
+stern.
+
+"I prefer not to hear anything further on the subject," he said in a
+measured tone. "It is a subject which does not now concern me."
+
+"Fred!"
+
+Despite his anger, despite the resentment the spectacle of those two
+riders had roused within him, the anguish in her voice cut him. Her
+eyes, fixed on his, were filled with intense sorrow, her face went
+ashen.
+
+"Oh, Fred! I----"
+
+She swayed as she stood, staggered, and sank into the chair between the
+lamp and the window, flinging her arms out over the table and burying
+her head upon them as she gave vent to a fit of sobbing. But as she
+moved, her shadow swept across the blind.
+
+He looked out again upon the moonlit scene--the horsemen had passed from
+the field of vision. He leaned forward to get a wider view, but there
+was no further sign of them--it was as though the shadow passing across
+the blind had been a danger signal on which they had acted immediately
+it was given.
+
+He wondered whether Brennan had seen them, whether he was also on the
+look out or was waiting hidden somewhere until he heard the warning
+shot. Harding was to fire in the event of anything happening. Ought he
+to fire now? Ought he to give the alarm or wait, lest the sound of the
+shot warned the two horsemen as well as alarmed Brennan?
+
+Leaning forward, with his attention riveted as he gazed through the
+narrow slit, he scarcely noticed that Mrs. Eustace had ceased to
+sob--the sudden appearance of her head, in shadow, upon the blind, made
+him start to his feet.
+
+"Put out that lamp," he exclaimed, but before she could move he was past
+her and had blown out the flame.
+
+"Fred! What is it?" she asked in an agitated whisper.
+
+"Silence," he said fiercely, as he crept back to the window and stooped
+to peer into the night.
+
+Along the fence which formed the boundary of the bank's ground, the
+fence Durham had pointed out as the one over which Eustace must have
+made his escape, he saw the figure of a man stealthily creeping.
+
+He thrust his hand into the pocket where he had slipped the revolver
+Brennan had given him.
+
+"Fred! Fred! What do you see?" he heard Mrs. Eustace whisper, and in the
+dim obscurity he saw her come to his side.
+
+"Quiet," he said harshly.
+
+Both her hands, trembling, touched his arm.
+
+"Tell me," she whispered; "I will be brave. Who is it you see?"
+
+The thin streak of moonlight falling through the narrow space between
+the blind and the window glinted on the bright barrel of the revolver,
+as he drew it from his pocket.
+
+She fell on her knees beside him, her arms flung round him, her voice in
+his ear.
+
+"Oh, Fred--no, not that! Is it Charlie? Oh, don't--don't----"
+
+He pushed her back roughly, his eyes straining to catch another glimpse
+of the creeping figure which had gone out of sight as he raised his
+revolver ready to fire.
+
+"Oh, no, no! Don't shoot him! Don't, Fred, don't! He----"
+
+Her words ended in a shriek, for even as she spoke there appeared
+outside the window, showing clear with the moonlight falling full upon
+it, the face of a yellow-bearded man. Harding wrested himself free from
+her clinging arms, leapt to the window, and tore the blind away.
+
+The form of the man, running swiftly, was disappearing amongst the
+bushes.
+
+Heedless of the glass in front of him, of the terrified woman at his
+knees, Harding raised his revolver and fired.
+
+As the shivered glass crashed to the ground, the report of other shots,
+fired in rapid succession, came from outside, and across the patch of
+grass, firing as he ran, Brennan dashed after the runaway.
+
+Harding scrambled through the broken window and ran after him.
+
+From behind the clustering shrubs which formed a screen in front of the
+chicken-run, there came the sound of horses galloping. Brennan stopped
+as he heard it. When Harding caught up to him, he was rapidly reloading
+his revolver.
+
+"He's slipped us," he cried. "The sub-inspector has my horse, and
+ordered me not to leave the bank till he came back. And there's that
+scoundrel riding away from under our noses!"
+
+"Did you see him?" Harding exclaimed.
+
+"See him? Wasn't I crawling on him round the house when she screamed
+out to him, and you fired? Another two minutes and I had him, yellow
+beard and all. Now we know who the man was who called at the bank to
+cash a cheque after hours. Anyhow, I'll have the woman safe before she
+can do any more mischief. I'll arrest her right away, and the girl as
+well. They're both in the game, if you ask me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+SNARED
+
+
+Durham awakened with a sense of oppression.
+
+For the moment he could not recall where he was. It seemed as though
+some sound had disturbed him, yet before he opened his eyes he realised
+the utter silence which reigned.
+
+It was the silence which brought back to him where he was. He had fallen
+asleep as he lay in the hammock chair on the verandah at Waroona Downs.
+
+In his half-awakened state he made an effort to sit up. But he could not
+move--arms, legs, body were held as though in paralysis. He could only
+open his eyes.
+
+Before him, in the faint light shed by the down-turned lamp, he saw the
+figure of a man, leaning slightly forward, clad in the attire of an
+ordinary bushman--an unbuttoned jacket hanging loosely open over a
+cotton shirt; tweed trousers secured at the waist by a narrow strap;
+travel-stained leggings and heavy boots with well-worn spurs dangling at
+the heels. The head was covered by a soft felt hat pulled forward,
+shading the upper part of the face, while the lower was hidden by a
+thick growth of yellow beard. The hair, where it showed under the hat,
+was fair almost to whiteness and close-cropped. Eyebrows and lashes of
+the same light hue gave a sinister expression to the eyes.
+
+Durham recognised him at once as the man Eustace had declared called at
+the bank after office hours.
+
+Mrs. Burke's presentiment had come true! The men from whom he had so
+lightly offered to protect her had stolen upon him while he slept.
+
+With a frantic plunge he strove to break free, at the same moment
+opening his mouth to shout a warning. But even as his lips parted, a
+hand came from behind him and placed a soft muffling substance over his
+mouth.
+
+"Tie it--tight," the man in front said in a low whisper.
+
+Durham felt the passing of a thong round and round his head. He tried to
+raise his legs to kick the floor of the verandah, but they were too
+securely fastened to the sides of the chair. He could move neither hand
+nor foot. He was as helpless as though he were dead.
+
+The man with the yellow beard bent nearer.
+
+"We'll see you again--later," he whispered. "That's a good horse you
+were riding--Government property, I think, it was. Well, it has changed
+owners."
+
+He moved noiselessly away and Durham was left alone. Bracing his
+muscles, he strained at the cords which bound him, trying to writhe
+himself free. The chair creaked. In a moment the man with the yellow
+beard was back.
+
+"If you wriggle for a year you won't get free," he said in a harsh
+whisper. "But I tell you what you will get; that's a crack on the head
+to keep you quiet. Do you hear? You lay still, or there'll be an ugly
+bump on your skull."
+
+He stepped out of sight, and Durham heard the window he had pulled-to
+quietly pushed open. A rage of mingled anger and jealousy swept over
+him. Regardless of the threat, he plunged and struggled till the veins
+in his head were bursting, and he smothered as the muffler over his
+mouth worked up and covered his nostrils.
+
+Suddenly a sound cut through the night which sent his blood cold.
+
+From within the house there came the wild, terrified shriek of a woman.
+A hoarse shout blended with it, and then the report of a revolver-shot
+echoed through the place.
+
+For a few minutes there was silence, deathly, nerve-destroying silence.
+Durham, trembling with mortification, strained his ears to catch some
+further sound.
+
+Two shots in quick succession rang out, followed by a rush of scuffling
+feet, and on the air there came the thud of galloping horses' hoofs.
+
+"They're off, Patsy! The rifle, quick! Quick! Oh, you old fool, be
+quick! They'll be too far!"
+
+Durham heard the words screamed in a high shrill voice. Thereafter he
+could only hear the hum of voices dimly.
+
+Presently they came clearer.
+
+"I tell you only two got away, three horses and two men. I saw them.
+The other's somewhere. Sure I hope I put a bullet through him, and I
+believed him when he said he was a police inspector. Oh, what a country
+to come to. To think that the dirty--oh, look out, Patsy! Look out, you
+old fool!"
+
+The noise of a shot rang through Durham's head as though a pistol had
+been fired close to his ear. He saw a splinter fly from the verandah
+post as the bullet glanced off.
+
+"I've hit him! I've hit him! See if he's dead, Patsy. Don't be
+frightened. I tell you I'll cover him if he moves."
+
+The light spread clear as the lamp was turned up, and Durham heard the
+slow-moving footsteps of the old man approaching.
+
+"Bedad! It's all tied up he is!"
+
+Quick footsteps came, and as Durham turned his eyes he saw, looking down
+at him, with her hair flying loose, her cheeks white, and her eyes wild
+with excitement, Nora Burke.
+
+"What has happened? What does it mean?" she said slowly. "Patsy, get a
+knife and--no, let me."
+
+She reached and caught hold of the cord tied round Durham's legs.
+
+"Get a knife, Patsy. It is too tight to untie."
+
+Obedient, the old man brought her the table-knife Durham had used at his
+supper, and with it she cut through some of the cords.
+
+"Can you move now? Oh, it's a gag they put on you!" she exclaimed, as
+she leaned over him and cut the thong which held the muffler so
+securely across his mouth.
+
+"Free my arm, and give me the knife," he said, as soon as he could
+speak. "I will cut quicker."
+
+She placed the knife in his hand when she had slipped the cord twined
+round his arm. He could scarcely close his fingers on it, so stiff had
+they become, and he fumbled clumsily before he had cut himself free.
+Then he rose to his feet and stood unsteadily.
+
+Patsy had vanished; Mrs. Burke watched him from the shadow at the side
+of the window.
+
+"You saw them?" he exclaimed. "It was you who fired?"
+
+Before she could answer his eye caught sight of something white lying by
+the chair. He stooped and picked it up. It was what had been used to
+muffle his cries, and he saw it was a handkerchief.
+
+Instinctively he opened it out, stepped into the full glare of the light
+and ran his eyes along the edge. At one corner a name, boldly written,
+showed clear.
+
+"Charles N. Eustace."
+
+He could not repress an exclamation as he read the name.
+
+"What is it?" she cried, as she came over to him.
+
+She gripped his arm as she also read the name.
+
+"Eustace!" she cried. "Eustace--then it was he who----"
+
+She stopped abruptly, staring at him.
+
+"Did you recognise him?" he asked.
+
+"It was dark--I only saw them against the sky. They had their backs to
+me as they rode off. I mean it was Eustace who robbed the bank."
+
+"When did you come to that conclusion?"
+
+"I said so at first--I told Brennan. Why did you not arrest him? I told
+Brennan to go in and arrest him when I left, before you arrived."
+
+"Brennan went to do so, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"Then--how could Eustace be here to-night if Brennan arrested him?"
+
+"Brennan did not arrest him. By the time he reached the dining-room at
+the bank it was empty. Eustace had disappeared. This handkerchief is the
+first token of him that has come to light since you saw him."
+
+"Disappeared?"
+
+Her eyes opened to their utmost as she uttered the word. It was as
+though she could speak nothing more, for she stood staring, her clasped
+hands pressed to her bosom, her dishevelled hair flowing in great masses
+and framing her face with its dark folds.
+
+"Disappeared--until to-night," he said. "This handkerchief completes the
+chain of circumstances which points to Eustace as the person mainly
+concerned in the robbery."
+
+"How sad, oh, how sad, for his poor wife," she exclaimed. "Why is it,
+Mr. Durham, that the woman always has to suffer while the man goes
+free?"
+
+"The man will not go free. There is a net spread for him he cannot
+possibly escape. Tell me, which way did they ride?"
+
+"You are not going after them? You must not do that--you must not face
+that risk."
+
+"Risk is the pastime of my life, Mrs. Burke. But in this there is no
+risk. I shall follow their tracks until I find where they are hiding."
+
+"No, no! You must not go. They will hear you coming; they will see you
+and then--think! You, who have only just escaped them! What mercy would
+they show?"
+
+"The mercy I would show them," he answered fiercely. "They have stolen
+the revolver from my belt. Will you lend me the one you have?"
+
+"It is the only one I have. What shall I do if they come back and I am
+without it?"
+
+"Then I must go without."
+
+He moved away, but before he had gone two steps she was at his side, her
+hand on his arm, her face turned appealingly to him.
+
+"No, you must not! Mr. Durham, I ask you. Don't go. You may be throwing
+your life away. They may come back. Don't leave me alone in the place.
+Don't, please don't. For my sake, for my sake, stay till it is light."
+
+Gently he took her hand in his and lifted it from his arm.
+
+"You who have been so brave to-night, would not have me show cowardice,"
+he said softly. "These scoundrels must not remain at large a moment
+longer than we can help. There is more now at stake than the bank's
+money--I shall not rest till they are captured, for only then shall I
+feel you are safe."
+
+"But you must not go now."
+
+Her disengaged hand was laid gently, caressingly, on his shoulders; her
+face, showing white amid the tumbled mass of her tresses, was close to
+his, so close he could feel the faint fanning of her breath and catch
+the subtle perfume from her hair. The fingers of the hand he held
+gripped his in a clinging, lingering clasp; the hand on his shoulder
+pressed firmer; she leaned against him.
+
+"You must not go--you must not--for my sake," she murmured.
+
+The head drooped till the tumbled tresses met the caressing hand; one
+pale cheek was so close to his he had but to bend his head to touch it
+with his lips. His arm slipped round her, drawing her soft, yielding
+form yet closer to him, and over him there swept a wave of emotion which
+in another moment had carried him away upon its crest, away from duty,
+away from the prosaic material world, away from everything but the woman
+he held.
+
+"You must not say that," he said hoarsely. "You must not. You are the
+last who should try to turn me from my duty."
+
+"Oh, but I cannot--I cannot let you go--it may be to your death. Wait
+till day comes," she answered. "There are horses in the paddock. Patsy
+can fetch you one. If you go now you will only wander aimlessly in the
+dark while they may turn upon you, if they do not get farther and
+farther away. Stay till the dawn."
+
+"It will not be dawn for many hours."
+
+"Why, what time do you think it is? It is nearly four."
+
+Nearly four! Then he had slept right through the night so soundly that
+on waking he thought he had only dozed.
+
+"You will not go? Tell me you will not go?" she whispered, and he felt
+her hands touch him lightly.
+
+He drew back, fearful lest her fascination again overmastered him.
+
+"Show me which way they went," he said brusquely, as he walked to the
+steps leading down from the verandah.
+
+As he reached them he turned. Mrs. Burke had drawn back into the shadow
+beyond the open window.
+
+"Will you show me which way they went?" he repeated.
+
+He saw her hide her face in her hands, and the sound of a choked sob
+came to him. In a moment he was at her side.
+
+She shrank to the wall as he approached, raising her head and shaking
+back the loose locks which streamed across her face.
+
+"Go!" she exclaimed. "Go! Leave me! What am I that you should care? Only
+a poor, weak, sad, and lonely woman. Forget----"
+
+"Do not say that," he answered quickly, his voice vibrating with
+passion. "You--you do not know--I would give my life----"
+
+"I will not give you cause to say I kept you from your duty, Mr.
+Durham," she went on. "Forget my weakness. I promise you it shall never
+occur again."
+
+She slipped past him and stood for a moment at the window, just long
+enough to flash one look of resentment at him before she passed into the
+room and extinguished the lamp.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE NOTE THAT FAILED
+
+
+When Durham, having walked in from Waroona Downs, arrived at the bank,
+he found the township in a state of excitement bordering on panic.
+
+The noise of the firing during the night had brought everyone who was
+awake at the time rushing to the scene. Men had mounted their horses and
+raced away in the direction the fugitives were supposed to have taken,
+returning hours afterwards with the information that no trace of them
+could be discovered, beyond the prints of their horses' hoofs, here and
+there, right up to the line of rocky rises which formed the commencement
+of the range.
+
+Durham brushed aside the volley of questions directed at him as to how
+it came about that he had returned on foot. Passing into the bank he
+asked Harding to come with him into the manager's office, and told
+Brennan to clear everyone else out of the building.
+
+As soon as he had heard Harding's account of what had happened, he
+produced the handkerchief bearing Eustace's name.
+
+"Can you identify that?" he asked. "It is marked, but I want to know if
+you can recognise it apart from the name it bears?"
+
+"It is like the handkerchiefs I use," Harding answered, as he pulled one
+out of his pocket. "Eustace and I ordered some to be sent up, and we
+divided them, taking half each."
+
+"Did you mark them?"
+
+"Mrs. Eustace did that for us. Is the name on this?"
+
+He turned it round until he saw the name.
+
+"Yes, that is one of Eustace's," he said.
+
+"What time do you think it was when you saw that man's face at the
+window?" Durham inquired.
+
+"Between half-past nine and ten--nearer ten probably."
+
+"Was the face familiar?"
+
+"It was, but I cannot recall where I have seen it before. It struck me
+as being a familiar face disguised. It was not Eustace's."
+
+"You feel sure of that?"
+
+"I'm quite sure. I wish you had been here to have seen it."
+
+"I did see it."
+
+"But you were at Waroona Downs."
+
+"So I was. It was there I saw it. That man and his companion stuck the
+house up. I was asleep on the verandah and they must have crept on me,
+for when I awakened I was bound hand and foot. The man you describe was
+standing in front of me. When I attempted to shout to warn Mrs. Burke, a
+handkerchief was pressed over my mouth and tied by someone who kept
+behind me. That is the handkerchief which was used. Who would you say
+tied it?"
+
+"I should suspect Eustace, of course; or do you think the man with the
+beard was Eustace?"
+
+Durham shook his head.
+
+"No," he said. "The description I have of Eustace does not agree at all
+with the build and general appearance of that man. If Eustace were there
+at the time he must have kept behind me. Is Mrs. Burke a woman who talks
+much?"
+
+"Talks? She does nothing else. She tells everyone everything."
+
+"Then it is no use my trying to keep this episode of the handkerchief
+quiet?"
+
+"Not if she knows anything about it. She will tell everyone about it
+directly she comes to the township."
+
+"Oh, she knows about it. She is a plucky woman. She drove them off,
+firing at them; then she discovered me on the verandah and nearly shot
+me into the bargain. When I was set free this handkerchief was on the
+verandah and she saw it as soon as I picked it up."
+
+"Then everyone in the township will hear about it," Harding said. "She
+is to come in this afternoon to meet Mr. Wallace."
+
+"When is he due?"
+
+"About noon he ought to be here."
+
+"Then I'll ride out and meet him," Durham said shortly. "Is there anyone
+in particular who was with the crowd last night to whom I can go for
+further information?"
+
+"Mr. Gale was one."
+
+"I'll see him," Durham said, and left the bank, finding Gale in the
+street discussing the latest raid with half a dozen other men of the
+town. He left them at once and came over to the sub-inspector.
+
+"Look here, it's no use wasting more time," he exclaimed warmly. "We all
+say there is only one thing to be done if those scoundrels are to be
+caught. We must scour the ranges. I'll volunteer and so will everyone
+else in the place. The only hope is to ride them down."
+
+"Quite useless," Durham replied curtly.
+
+"It's the only course to adopt," Gale retorted. "We're all bushmen here
+and know what's the proper thing to do. You can't apply town methods to
+bush-rangers, you know. You may be the smartest man in the force at
+catching city burglars and spielers, but you are out of your element in
+the bush. There's only one thing to be done--track them down."
+
+"How many are there?"
+
+"Well, two for certain--probably more."
+
+"Probably more--exactly. And most probably one or other of the remainder
+is in the town acting as a spy for the others. If that is so, what will
+happen when you set out in force? Everyone would volunteer, as you say,
+and one of the number would give warning of what was being done. What
+chance would there be then of making a capture? You tried last night.
+What was the result?"
+
+"We found their tracks."
+
+"Then why didn't you follow them?"
+
+"Because with the crowd riding all over the ground we lost them,
+and----"
+
+"Just so," Durham interrupted. "It is what would happen again if your
+suggestion were carried out. This is a one man's job, Mr. Gale. Directly
+I want assistance I will come to you, but in the meantime I must ask you
+to keep your fellow-townsmen from interfering."
+
+He went on to the police-station, leaving Gale to convey his refusal of
+assistance to the men who were keen on taking the matter into their own
+hands. The refusal was received with open resentment and the group moved
+towards the station to argue the matter out with the sub-inspector, but
+before they reached it Durham rode out of the yard and set his horse to
+a gallop along the road leading to the railway.
+
+"It's all right, boys, he's got a clue," one of the men exclaimed
+scornfully. "He's going to catch them at the junction!"
+
+"Give him a cheer for luck," another cried, and the ironical shout
+reached Durham as he galloped. But he paid no heed to it, riding on
+steadily till he was away from the town and some miles along the road
+when he saw, coming towards him, a pair-horse buggy accompanied by a
+couple of mounted troopers. As they came nearer he recognised Wallace in
+the buggy. The troopers drew to the side of the track as he reined in
+beside the vehicle.
+
+"Come back along the road a bit," he exclaimed, as he got off his horse
+and gave the bridle to one of the troopers.
+
+"Why are these troopers with you?" he asked when he and Wallace had
+walked out of hearing.
+
+"I have close on thirty thousand pounds in the buggy. I have had to
+bring with me not only sufficient funds to enable the bank to carry on
+its ordinary business, but a further twenty-five thousand in gold to
+carry through the purchase of Waroona Downs from Mr. Dudgeon."
+
+"Why is it necessary for all this gold to be used? I did not care to ask
+Mr. Harding, but if it is not a bank secret----"
+
+"Oh, it is no secret," Wallace exclaimed. "Mr. Dudgeon had a quarrel
+with the bank some time since, and, in addition to giving himself a
+great deal of unnecessary trouble, he delights in making everything we
+have to do with him as unpleasant and difficult as possible. Any
+payments we have to make to him have to be made in gold. He is legally
+entitled to demand it, and he avails himself of his right to the utmost.
+That is why I have had to push through with the amount so as to be able
+to complete Mrs. Burke's purchase to-day. As we were not anxious to lose
+another twenty-five thousand, we obtained an escort from head-quarters,
+but I fancy the men have to return to-night."
+
+"Eustace would know this second amount would have to be sent up?"
+
+"Of course he would."
+
+"And the presence of your escort would announce to him or his spies,
+assuming that he is concerned in the robbery, that you have it with
+you?"
+
+"Naturally; but the risk was more than the general manager would allow
+for me to travel with it unless I had police protection."
+
+"You expect to pay it out this afternoon?"
+
+"I anticipate Dudgeon will be at the bank clamouring for it, under
+threat of crying off the sale, by the time I get there. The first thing
+I shall most probably do is to pay it over."
+
+"So that it will soon be out of the bank, and the bank's interest in it
+will have ceased."
+
+"Exactly," Wallace replied. "Mr. Dudgeon, who refuses to act through the
+bank, will have the pleasure of providing his own strong-room for its
+safe keeping."
+
+"Eustace would know that too?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then you will have to send one or both of those troopers with Mr.
+Dudgeon; otherwise he will be robbed to-night. It would certainly be the
+last thing necessary to identify Eustace with the robbery at the bank,
+but there is already enough to prove that, to my mind. Your duty ceases
+when you have handed this sum over, but there mine begins."
+
+"I intend to suggest to Mr. Dudgeon the advisability of his having
+police protection while the gold is in his possession, in view of what
+has already occurred. But I am quite sure that the suggestion will be
+treated with contempt."
+
+"Tell me where Mr. Dudgeon lives."
+
+"He has another station on the opposite side of the township to Waroona
+Downs, about ten miles out. He wants to sell that, too, and I don't mind
+saying we all hope he will soon find a purchaser."
+
+"How many men has he there?"
+
+"Oh, he sold off all his stock from both places and discharged his hands
+some months ago. He might have a couple of men about the place, but not
+any more, I should say."
+
+"Well, try and persuade him to take the escort. If he will not, send the
+men out to the station to-night. I shall probably be there by the time
+they arrive, but you need not mention this to them. Give the impression,
+if you can, that I am on my way to Wyalla, and don't be surprised if I
+take you unawares any time between this and noon to-morrow."
+
+"I'm never surprised at anything you do, Durham," Wallace retorted
+grimly. "We're quite satisfied the money will be recovered if
+head-quarters leave you alone."
+
+"I hope so--I can't say more," Durham said.
+
+"But I can," Wallace continued. "It's in confidence, of course, but the
+directors have decided that in the event of your recovering this money
+they will present you with five thousand. I don't suppose that will make
+you work any harder, but it may interest you to know it."
+
+Durham rode at a slower pace when he had parted with Wallace than when
+he came out of the township. The news that a fifth of the missing money
+would be his when he recovered it gave him a far greater incentive than
+Wallace anticipated. With five thousand pounds behind him he knew his
+prospects of winning the woman who had fascinated him would be much
+greater than if he had only his official salary as a financial backing
+to his suit. Further, if he succeeded in recovering the gold he would
+also recover the stolen documents. He had little doubt but what he would
+be able to woo her successfully, were he able to return to her the
+papers which had been stolen and go to her with his freshly won laurels
+of victory.
+
+A mile down the road he turned his horse into the bush and rode straight
+for the range which rose between the township and Waroona Downs.
+Skirting the flanking spurs, he followed on until he caught sight of the
+tracks left by the horsemen who had ridden after the fugitives the night
+before. In their haste and lack of system, he saw how they had crossed
+and recrossed the marks left by the riders they were chasing. He walked
+his horse to and fro until he came upon the tracks of the two horses
+showing clear beyond the jumbled confusion of hoof-prints the amateur
+trackers had made.
+
+The two had ridden direct to the range. As he followed the track,
+bending down in his saddle to note the marks, he laughed aloud. The men
+were the veriest fools at bush-craft. There were instances by the dozen
+which revealed to him the fact that neither had had any experience in
+tracking, and so had failed to avail themselves of the chances the
+ground they had ridden over offered to render their track difficult to
+follow. Where the ground was soft, they had not swerved to avoid it, but
+had left the prints of their horses' hoofs showing so clearly that to
+the skilled bushman it was as an open book he could read as he rode.
+Where low-growing shrubs stood in their way they had crashed through,
+sometimes setting their horses to jump what should have been ridden
+round. Everywhere the same thing was manifest. The riders were not
+bushmen; they were in a great hurry; they were in country with which
+they were not acquainted, and were hastening towards some landmark that
+would bring them to a locality where they would be more at their ease.
+
+As he followed the track, he sat back in his saddle. There was no need
+to study the ground when he could see the hoof-prints showing right
+ahead. So it was that he saw what those other riders had failed to
+distinguish in the half light of the moon. There was a sudden dip in the
+surface, a shallow depression sloping down to a little stream. Riding,
+as they must have been riding, at a full gallop, it was a trap for an
+unsteady horse and one of the horses was unsteady, for it had propped at
+the brow of the slope, slipped, and come down on its knees, pitching its
+rider clear over its head.
+
+The spot where he fell was still distinguishable by the bent and broken
+herbage and his heels had scored the ground as he scrambled to his feet,
+caught his horse, and hastily remounted. He had been in a great hurry
+and so had his companion, for there was no break in the tracks of the
+second horse--the other man had ridden on without a moment's halt, had
+ridden past his fallen companion and left him to do the best he could
+for himself. All this was plain at one glance. Again Durham laughed
+aloud at the folly of the pair, as he reined in his horse and sprang
+from the saddle.
+
+In his fall the fugitive rider had dropped something. It lay white on
+the ground just beyond the mark he had made in falling. Durham picked it
+up--a closed, unaddressed envelope bearing the bank's impress on the
+flap.
+
+He tore it open. Inside was a sheet of paper with the bank's heading,
+but undated.
+
+     "No one saw me go, and I am safe now where they will never find me.
+     Stay there till you hear from me again. A friend will bring you
+     word. Ask no questions, but send your answer as directed. You must
+     do everything as arranged, or all is lost. Whatever you do, don't
+     leave till I send you word. I am safe till the storm blows
+     over.--C."
+
+As Durham read the words, written in pencil and obviously in haste, he
+was satisfied that his suspicion not only of Eustace, but of Mrs.
+Eustace, was correct. The man with the yellow beard whom he himself had
+seen, was possibly the "friend," through whom communication was to be
+maintained between husband and wife. He and Eustace had evidently ridden
+in during the evening with the intention of advising Mrs. Eustace of the
+successful flight of her husband. Hesitating to approach the bank, until
+he was certain the way was clear, Eustace had given the note to his
+companion to deliver. Harding's vision of the face at the window
+completed the picture. The man had crept up to the window of the room
+where it was probably arranged Mrs. Eustace was to wait. So long as any
+other person who might have been in the room occupied the chair Mrs.
+Eustace placed, the shadow on the blind would warn the visitor that the
+coast was not clear. It was due to the fact that Harding had noticed the
+shadow and had moved to another chair that the man had so nearly been
+captured.
+
+What had followed was equally clear to Durham's mind.
+
+Directly he found he was discovered the man had run to his horse and,
+together with his companion, had galloped off, too quickly to allow him
+either to explain how he had failed to deliver the message or to hand it
+back to Eustace. It was most probably he who had come down with his
+horse at the edge of the depression, by which time the letter would have
+passed completely from his mind and so he would not notice its loss.
+Under the circumstances it was very unlikely he would tell the truth to
+his companion, but would rather leave Eustace under the impression that
+the letter had been put where Mrs. Eustace would find it. Sooner or
+later, therefore, Eustace would make another attempt to communicate with
+his wife. If he were not captured otherwise there would be every hope of
+securing him by keeping a close watch upon her.
+
+With the letter in his pocket Durham remounted his horse and continued
+to follow the track. It led him into the broken country which formed the
+outlying spurs of the range, and continued along a narrow depression
+lying between two ridges. The trees grew closer together in the shelter
+of the little valley, and the track turned at right angles and continued
+up the side of one of the ridges.
+
+The surface became more rocky and Durham had to watch closely for the
+hoof-prints as he gradually ascended to the top. For a time the track
+ran along the summit and then turned down the other slope, following the
+course of what, in the rainy season, would be a small rivulet. This
+again turned where it met the bed of a larger stream and Durham set his
+horse at a canter as he saw, distinct as a road, the marks left by the
+runaways right along the bed of the stream.
+
+As he went he worked out the direction in which he was travelling; the
+stream he was following was evidently one which fed the watercourse
+crossing the road in the range. It turned and twisted in and out small
+flanking spurs, down the sides of which other streams had cut narrow
+scars, now as dry as the stream-bed along which he was riding, but
+which, in the time of the rains, would be roaring little torrents adding
+their quota to that great pool dammed back by the mountain road.
+
+Suddenly the creek took a sharp turn round a jutting bluff, and as he
+passed beyond it he reined in his horse. Scarce twenty yards in front
+was a sheet of water, its surface, without a ripple, reflecting the
+tree-clad slopes that encompassed it. In the sand of the stream-bed the
+track was so strong it might have been made only a few hours ago.
+
+He rode warily to the water's edge. The pool stretched on both sides
+away into the hills, but it was not that which made him rein in his
+horse and sit motionless.
+
+Along the margin of the pool there was a strip of sandy soil. It
+extended to the right and to the left of the creek-mouth. Upon it the
+marks both of wheels and hoof-prints showed.
+
+The tracks he had been following swung sharp to the right; the
+wheel-marks came from the left, crossed the creek-bed and continued to
+the right.
+
+His first impulse was to spur his horse along the track to the right,
+see where it led, and then return along it to the left, but the
+twenty-five thousand pounds to be paid to Dudgeon would be at the mercy
+of the marauders, if, as Wallace anticipated, the old man refused police
+protection.
+
+Great as the temptation was to learn where the track led and whence it
+came, Durham set his face against it.
+
+He had stumbled on a clue, but the following it up was not for that day.
+Later he would return and complete his discovery. For the present he
+must leave it.
+
+There was a long ride before him if he were to reach Dudgeon's homestead
+at Taloona by sunset. That Eustace was one of the two men concerned in
+the robbery of the bank he had now no doubt. The question he had to
+consider was who the other man was. At the back of his mind there was a
+lurking suspicion that the owner of Taloona might possess information
+on the subject if he could be induced or inveigled to reveal it.
+
+He glanced regretfully in the direction the tracks led. He would have
+preferred to follow them to the end, but after all he might get nearer
+the solution of the problem by a visit to Taloona.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+DUDGEON'S HOSPITALITY
+
+
+Within half an hour of Wallace's arrival at the bank Dudgeon drove up.
+
+He scrambled out of his rackety old buggy and stamped into the place,
+passing direct into the little room Eustace had used as a private
+office, where, by the chance of circumstances, he came face to face with
+Mrs. Burke.
+
+His keen, grey, hawk-like eyes flashed an envenomed look at her, and
+were met by a glance not one whit less steadfast. For a moment he stood,
+his shaggy white brows meeting in a scowl as he found himself confronted
+by one who even to his distorted vision possessed a charm of face and
+figure such as he had not seen since the days of Kitty Lambton.
+
+Something in the eyes which met his touched a chord of memory long
+suppressed. So Kitty had looked when he met her for the first time after
+her flight with O'Guire; so she had looked the last time he had seen her
+when she had pleaded for mercy to her dying parents and he had taunted
+her and mocked her till she turned and left him with curses as
+deep-voiced as any he himself could have uttered.
+
+"This is Mrs. Burke, the purchaser of Waroona Downs, Mr. Dudgeon," he
+heard, and faced round on the speaker, turning his back upon her.
+
+"Who are you?" he blurted out.
+
+"I am the officer in charge of the bank for the time being," Wallace
+replied suavely.
+
+"Where's Eustace? He's the only man I know in the matter."
+
+"He is not here at present, Mr. Dudgeon. But that need not concern you.
+I assume you have come to complete the sale of----"
+
+"I only know Eustace. I'm prepared to deal with him--I don't know you
+and don't want to."
+
+"Unfortunately Mr. Eustace cannot be present. But I am in his place. I
+arrived from the head office this morning with the gold you demand as
+payment for the sale of Waroona Downs. You may have noticed it as you
+came in--the bags are on the counter in charge of the police escort."
+
+"But where's Eustace? That's what I want to know."
+
+He looked from Wallace to Harding savagely.
+
+"If you are prepared to sign the transfer, Mr. Dudgeon, we can proceed
+with the business," Wallace replied. "Mrs. Burke is waiting."
+
+Dudgeon glanced at her covertly.
+
+She was standing, as she stood throughout the subsequent proceedings, a
+silent spectator, irritating him by the mere fact that she was so
+absolutely impassive. When the time came for her to sign the formal
+documents which made Waroona Downs hers, Wallace placed a chair at the
+table; but she ignored it, bending down gracefully as she signed her
+name in beautifully flowing characters.
+
+Old Dudgeon's hands, knotted and stiff with many a day's toil, were not
+familiar with the pen. As he laboured with the coarse, splodgy strokes
+which ranked as his signature, the sight of the delicate curves of the
+letters she had made fanned the flame of his wrath still higher. He also
+stood to sign, not because she had done so, but because he scorned to
+use a chair which belonged to his enemies. When he drew back from the
+table he saw how she had been standing almost behind him, looking over
+his shoulder as he wrote. A smile which he read as a sign of derision
+was on her lips and in her eyes.
+
+He kicked the chair viciously towards her.
+
+"Why don't you sit down, woman?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Because I prefer to stand--man," she replied.
+
+It was the first time he had heard her voice, and he started at the
+sound, wincing as, with one quick, furtive glance, he met her eyes
+again.
+
+"Is that all you want?" he asked Wallace abruptly.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Dudgeon, that is all. Will you take the gold with you,
+or leave it for safety in the bank?"
+
+"Leave it at the bank, eh?" he sneered. "No, thank you, Mr. Wallace, I
+trust you as far as I trust your bank, and you know how far that is
+without my telling you."
+
+"Very good, Mr. Dudgeon. Will you watch it while it is being carried to
+your buggy? There are two troopers here who have acted as my escort
+from the head office. If you care to take them with you as a
+protection----"
+
+"I want neither you nor your troopers," Dudgeon snarled. "I can take
+care of myself and my money, too, without anyone's help."
+
+He watched, with undisguised suspicion, while the counted piles of
+sovereigns were replaced in the bags, while the bags were carried away
+and stacked in the rackety old vehicle. Then, when the tally was
+complete, he walked out of the bank, climbed into the buggy, gathered up
+the reins and drove away without a word or a glance for anyone.
+
+The bitterness of defeat was rankling in him, the defeat of his lifelong
+determination that never, while he was on the earth to prevent it,
+should a woman live where his faith in the sex had been wrecked. It was
+bitter to think how he had been foiled after all by a woman, but still
+more so when the woman was of such a type as the one who had outwitted
+him. It was a new experience for him to be beaten at his own game, still
+a newer experience to find himself remembering the one by whom he was
+beaten as he was remembering the woman whose voice, despite his surly
+antagonism, rang in his ears with a melody which was as the song of a
+syren. Each time he had measured swords with her she had triumphed--just
+as, in the far-off days, Kitty Lambton had triumphed.
+
+Kitty Lambton!
+
+He pulled himself up short as the name passed through his mind. Why
+should he recall her now as Kitty Lambton when she had ceased to be
+that the day she left Waroona Downs with O'Guire? Why should this
+resolute woman recall her as Kitty Lambton and not as Kitty O'Guire?
+
+As he drove along the lonely bush track which led to Taloona, his mind
+drifted across the years to the time when first he had come to the
+district, to the time when Kitty Lambton stood for him for all that was
+noble and generous and pure in life; when he was content to work the
+livelong day with a light heart and happy mind, satisfied with the
+reward of her presence when his day's work was done. For a mile or so of
+the journey he strove to nurse his resentment against this clear-eyed
+woman whose raven black hair was in such absolute contrast to the flaxen
+locks of the vanished Kitty, but whose voice had caused the intrusion of
+these bygone memories into his waking thoughts. But gradually,
+unconsciously, the long-suppressed recollections of the girl who had
+charmed his youthful fancies took possession of him.
+
+Hitherto, whenever he had remembered her, it was with bitterness and
+anger; but now his mind was as free from anger as though the cause for
+it had never existed. It was the time when Kitty was the charmer which
+had come to him, the time when the gnawing anguish of betrayal was
+unknown, and slowly there obtruded itself upon him a dim, shadowy,
+speculating wonder as to all which might have been had she never changed
+for him from the charmer to the betrayer.
+
+But he was not used to introspective analysis, and the efforts to
+grapple with the subtleties of his own subconscious memories brought a
+tendency to his mind to lose the clear-cut edge of a fact in a blur of
+misty vision. No longer did the memory of Nora Burke irritate him. Had
+he associated her with Kitty the betrayer, the irritation would never
+have passed; but as it was Kitty the charmer her voice brought to him,
+he drifted, in the sere and yellow age, down the stream of fantasy upon
+which he had turned his back in scorn when the blood of youth ran in his
+veins.
+
+For miles the road slipped by unnoticed and unheeded as the old horse
+stumbled on at his own pace, unguided by the hand that held the reins.
+The breath of life had sought to fan the withered soul, but only one
+small spark, deep-smothered by the dead mass of loveless years,
+smouldered weakly where the record of a long life filled with human
+sympathy should have blazed in answer. The gold for which he had striven
+lay forgotten at his feet; the hate which he had nurtured passed, a
+vapid filmy shade, as the withered soul shrank shivering, chilled at the
+void the one poor spark revealed.
+
+The sight of his solitary hut, glowing in the warm mellow light of the
+evening sun, broke in upon a reverie so deep he could never recall all
+that it had contained.
+
+A horse hitched to one of the verandah posts, against which a man in
+uniform was leaning, brought him back to the world of reality with a
+shock. The hawk-like eyes gleamed as suspicion flashed through his
+brain. Had Wallace, despite his refusal, sent the troopers after him?
+The whip-lash fell viciously across the horse's back and the old rackety
+buggy rattled as Dudgeon finished his drive at a canter.
+
+"Well, what do you want?" he cried, as he pulled up opposite his door.
+
+Durham glanced from the stern, hard face of the man to the pile of
+money-bags clustered round his feet on the floor of the buggy, and over
+which he had not even taken the trouble to throw a rug.
+
+"I am a sub-inspector of police--Durham is my name----"
+
+"Durham?" the old man exclaimed. "Are you the man who rode down Parker,
+the cattle thief, when he was making off with a mob of imported prize
+stock?"
+
+"I arrested Parker--a couple of years ago."
+
+Dudgeon leant forward and held out his hand.
+
+"I'm proud to meet you, my lad. That mob of cattle belonged to me. You
+saved me a few thousands over that job of yours. I'm much obliged to
+you. I hoped to meet you some day so as to thank you."
+
+"I don't remember your name in the case," Durham said.
+
+"No, my lad, there was no need for me to appear. It was a Government
+affair to prosecute Parker. Why should I pay money away for the
+Government? Look at the anxiety and loss of time I had to put up with.
+Nobody offered to make that good."
+
+"But you got your cattle?"
+
+"Well, they _were_ mine--I paid for them. But that's all right. I'm much
+obliged to you for the trouble you took to catch the scoundrel--ten
+years I think he got? He ought to have been hanged. I'd have hanged him
+if I had been the judge. What are you after now? After more
+cattle-stealers?"
+
+"Not this time. I'm on my way to Waroona; but I've been travelling all
+day and my horse is a bit knocked up. Can I turn him into one of your
+paddocks for the night?"
+
+"Grass is worth money these times," the old man said slowly. "I suppose
+the Government will pay me for the use of the paddock, won't they?"
+
+"You can demand it, of course, if you care to," Durham replied.
+
+"And where are you going to camp? You'll want a feed, I suppose?"
+
+"I reckoned I could get one here."
+
+"Oh, you can get one here all right. There's no luxury about the place.
+I'm a poor man and just carry enough stores to keep me going. There's
+only me about the place now, so you'll have to do your own cooking; but
+you'll find it as comfortable as any bush pub, and cheaper, for there's
+no drink to be had, and half a crown for your supper and bed won't hurt
+you. You can take it or leave it--I'm not particular."
+
+He climbed out of the buggy and began unharnessing the horse.
+
+"You have heard of the robbery at the bank, I suppose, Mr. Dudgeon?"
+Durham asked.
+
+"Heard of what?"
+
+He stood up with his hand still on the buckle he was unfastening.
+
+"The robbery at the bank. I thought everyone in the district had heard
+of it."
+
+The old man remained without moving, his eyes fixed on Durham.
+
+"Haven't heard a word. What's the yarn?"
+
+"The bank was robbed yesterday--all the money taken, including the gold
+which had been sent up to pay you for Waroona Downs. Soon after the
+robbery, Eustace, the manager, disappeared."
+
+"Then who's Wallace?"
+
+"He is one of the officials from the head office."
+
+"But he had the money ready to pay me. How could that be if----"
+
+"He arrived with it to-day--he was expected about noon, I believe."
+
+Dudgeon let go the buckle and took two slow, deliberate steps nearer
+Durham.
+
+"Brought it with him?" he exclaimed. "And only arrived about noon?"
+
+"About that, I believe," Durham replied.
+
+The old man snatched the hat from his head and flung it on the ground.
+
+"Sold! by God! Sold!" he yelled. "If I'd been there before that chap
+arrived, I'd have beaten them--they couldn't have paid, and I'd have
+cried off the deal. Why didn't you come and tell me earlier? What's the
+good of your coming here now?"
+
+"Don't you think it rather risky to drive through the bush with a pile
+of money like that in your buggy while those bank robbers are still at
+liberty?" Durham said quietly.
+
+Dudgeon stood back and looked at him quizzically.
+
+"Oh, you're on it too, are you? That's your game, is it? Well, see here,
+my lad, anyone who can take this money without my knowing it is welcome
+to it. Do you understand?"
+
+He resumed his work of unharnessing the horse, leading it away, as soon
+as it was clear of the shafts, to a lean-to shed at the side of the hut
+where he hung up the harness and turned the horse free.
+
+"Well, how about that half-crown? Are you going to stay, or aren't you?
+Government won't pay that, you know. You find your own tucker, my lad."
+
+"I wish to stay here to-night," Durham answered.
+
+"Then chuck over the cash."
+
+It was obvious that if Durham wished to stay, he would have to pay, so
+without further demur he passed over the amount Dudgeon demanded for his
+supper and bed.
+
+"Now we start fair," the old man said, as he put the money in his
+pocket. "I'm under no obligation to you and you're under no obligation
+to me. That is what I call trading square."
+
+He unlocked the door and flung it open.
+
+"You'll find some cold meat and bread on the shelf, and there's tea in
+the canister over the fire-place. You'll have to fetch what water you
+want from the tank."
+
+As Durham entered the hut, Dudgeon went to the buggy and lifted one of
+the bags of gold in his arms, carrying it inside.
+
+The hut was a small and unpretentious structure. The door opened
+directly into the living-room, to which there was only one small window
+looking out on the verandah. A second door led into a small kitchen, off
+which opened another small room used by Dudgeon for sleeping.
+
+With the bag of gold in his arms he stood in the doorway.
+
+"You'll have to sleep on that stretcher over there," he said, nodding to
+a rough framework of untrimmed saplings with a length of coarse canvas
+fastened across. "You won't be cold. Keep a good fire on. You'll find an
+axe in the harness shed if you want to get any wood."
+
+He passed on through the second door and Durham set about lighting the
+fire. As he did so, Dudgeon made journeys to and fro, coming from the
+back of the hut empty-handed and returning from the buggy with a bag of
+gold in his arms until he had carried all the twenty-five thousand
+pounds in. By that time the fire was alight, and Durham went out to turn
+his horse loose. He returned by way of the harness shed, took the axe
+and went to the back of the hut to cut some wood for the night. As he
+turned the corner, he saw old Dudgeon with a spade in his hand, entering
+the hut by the back door.
+
+"Ah, that's good," the old man exclaimed, when Durham entered the
+living-room with an armful of cut wood. "That'll last the night through.
+I see you made the tea, so I had mine as I was wanting a feed. You'll
+have to boil some more water--there was only enough for one in the first
+lot you made."
+
+"I made that tea for myself, Mr. Dudgeon," Durham exclaimed.
+
+"Well, make some more. There's plenty of water in the tank--I won't
+charge you any more for using the can twice, though every time it's put
+on the fire means so much less life for it."
+
+Durham swung round in heat.
+
+"You're the meanest man on the face of the earth," he cried.
+
+Dudgeon looked at him with his shaggy brows almost obscuring the cold,
+hawk-like eyes.
+
+"If you hadn't paid me for your grub and a camp, I'd turn you out of the
+place," he snarled. "You've no more gratitude for kindness than a black
+fellow."
+
+Durham bit back the angry retort which rose to his lips. Little wonder
+the bank people were so indifferent to the old man's safety; little
+wonder no one had troubled to bring him news of the incident which
+formed the main item of gossip from end to end of the district. If this
+was the way he treated a visitor who paid, and paid dearly, for his
+board and bed, how, Durham asked himself, would he treat an ordinary
+guest?
+
+But he held his peace, refilled the can with water and set it to boil,
+Dudgeon sitting in the one chair the room contained, as he stolidly cut
+a pipeful of tobacco.
+
+When the water boiled, Durham made a second brew of tea and took his
+seat on a stool which was by the table. He helped himself to bread and
+meat and commenced his meal, but never a word did Dudgeon speak. He sat
+placidly smoking, his eyes on the smouldering embers of the fire,
+without as much as a glance in the direction of his visitor.
+
+The sun went down and the interior of the hut grew gloomy.
+
+"Haven't you a lamp?" Durham asked. "I cannot see what I am eating."
+
+"Make the fire up--that's good enough for me," Dudgeon replied without
+raising his head.
+
+On the shelf over the fire-place Durham had noticed a kerosene lamp, a
+cheap, rickety article with a clear-glass bowl half-full of oil. He rose
+from the stool, reached for the lamp, put it on the table and lit it.
+
+"Here, that oil costs money," Dudgeon snarled as he looked round. "Half
+a crown won't cover luxuries--you'll pass over another bob if you're
+going to waste my oil."
+
+Durham resumed his seat without heeding.
+
+"Do you hear?" Dudgeon exclaimed. "If you ain't going to pay, you ain't
+going----"
+
+He stood up as he spoke, stood up and took a step towards the table with
+one hand outstretched to lift away the lamp.
+
+Durham, looking round as he moved, saw his eyes suddenly open wide and
+stare fixedly at the door.
+
+At the same moment a voice rang through the room.
+
+"Hands up, or you're dead men!"
+
+Springing to his feet Durham faced towards the door.
+
+Standing in it were two figures, one the yellow-bearded man he had seen
+at Waroona Downs, the other a man of slighter build whose face was
+entirely concealed by a handkerchief hanging from under his hat and
+gathered in at the throat, with two holes burned for the eyes. Each man
+held a revolver, the masked man covering Durham, the bearded man
+covering Dudgeon.
+
+"Hands up!"
+
+There was the sharp ring in the voice which betokens the strain of a
+deadly determination. The eyes which glanced along the sights of the
+levelled weapon, aimed direct at Durham's head, were merciless and hard.
+Unless they were the last words he was ever to hear, Durham realised
+there was only one course open. He raised his hands above his head. A
+side glance showed him Dudgeon standing with his arms up.
+
+"Turn your back, and put your hands behind you," he heard the bearded
+man say, and Dudgeon shuffled round.
+
+A double click followed, a familiar sound to Durham--the click of
+snapping handcuffs.
+
+"Now, Mr. Detective, it's your turn," he heard the man say. "Put your
+hands behind you."
+
+The eyes behind the mask wandered for an instant from their aim to
+glance at the shackled Dudgeon.
+
+On that instant Durham acted.
+
+Straight at the face of the man beside him he hit, and as his clenched
+fist came in contact with the bearded face, he ducked.
+
+A shrill cry came from the man he had struck, almost simultaneously
+with the report of a revolver-shot.
+
+Durham heard a scream of pain from Dudgeon, but before he could know
+more there was a crashing blow on his head, and he fell senseless to the
+floor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+"FOOLED"
+
+
+In the dining-room of the bank Wallace, Harding, and Mrs. Eustace sat.
+
+"I have no alternative," Wallace said. "My instructions are peremptory
+on the subject. If, after investigation, I considered the suspicion
+against your husband as well founded, I was to request you to leave the
+bank premises without delay."
+
+"You believe my husband stole that money?"
+
+"I believe your husband stole that money, Mrs. Eustace."
+
+"You may live to change your opinion, Mr. Wallace. My husband is as
+innocent as I am. He has acted precipitately, I admit, and more than
+foolishly in going away as he has done; but that does not prove him
+guilty."
+
+"I am afraid I cannot discuss the question with you," Wallace replied
+evenly. "I can only carry out my instructions. I have told you what they
+are, and what my opinion is. I am sorry to inconvenience you, but I have
+no alternative."
+
+"Do you wish me to leave at once?"
+
+"Scarcely to-night; but I must ask you to get away as soon as you can."
+
+For a space there was silence.
+
+"I would like to speak to Mr. Harding, if you don't mind," she said
+presently.
+
+"Then I will leave you, for I have been steadily travelling all last
+night and to-day till I arrived here, and shall be glad to get to bed,"
+Wallace answered. "Any arrangement you can make, Harding, to assist Mrs.
+Eustace, I shall be pleased to hear about. You will quite understand,
+Mrs. Eustace, that in asking you to vacate the premises the bank is
+merely actuated by ordinary considerations and is in no way acting
+vindictively or harshly."
+
+She inclined her head slightly in response, but otherwise made no sign
+as Wallace left the room.
+
+For some time after he had gone she remained silent, Harding waiting for
+her to speak. Raising her head, she looked him steadily in the face.
+
+"I suppose I ought to call you Mr. Harding now," she began, "but I
+can't, Fred, I can't."
+
+"As you wish," he said.
+
+There came another silence, the woman unable to trust herself to
+continue, the man fearing to begin.
+
+"How life mocks one," she said, half to herself. "Surely it is
+punishment enough that I should have to turn to you in my distress,
+humiliating enough even to satisfy your desire for retribution. I do not
+blame you, Fred. I deserve it all. I treated you vilely."
+
+"Is there any necessity to refer to that now?" he asked. "I told you the
+curtain had been rung down for ever upon that. I have no wish either to
+punish or humiliate you. I don't think that I have given you reason to
+believe that I do. If you think there has been any reason, I can only
+say you are mistaken."
+
+She started impulsively to her feet and stood in front of him, holding
+her hands to him.
+
+"Fred, I must say it. I cannot bear this longer. It may make you hate
+me--detest and despise me, but I must say it. If you had only shown
+resentment or anger or spite for the way in which I treated you, it
+would not have been so hard to bear. Oh, don't you see? Don't you
+understand? Oh, isn't there one scrap of pity left in you for me? I was
+trapped into marriage, Fred. I never loved him, never, never! He--oh,
+have some pity on me, Fred, some pity."
+
+She sank into a chair and buried her face on her arms on the table as
+she gave way to a storm of weeping.
+
+To the man it was agony to see her, anguish to hear her, more bitter
+after the confession she had made and while the grip of suspicion still
+held him. Scarcely knowing what he did, he stepped to her side and laid
+his hand gently upon her head.
+
+"I have pity, more than pity for you, Jess," he whispered. "Don't
+think----" He caught his breath to check the quiver in his voice, and so
+remembered. "I beg your pardon--Mrs. Eustace I should have said," he
+added as he drew back.
+
+With hands close clenched behind him he stood. The love he fancied he
+had stifled had burst through the restraint he had placed upon it; the
+injury she had inflicted upon him, the wrong she had done, the cause
+for resentment she had given him were alike forgotten. The lingering
+suspicion alone prevented him from taking her in his arms to soothe and
+comfort her in her distress. Fighting against himself he stood silent,
+and the woman, aching for someone on whom to lean, shivered.
+
+"What am I to do?" she moaned. "What am I to do?"
+
+He, thinking only of her, took the words to refer to her present
+difficulty.
+
+"I think it would be better if you went away," he said gently. "I do not
+think it will be easier for you to bear if you are here when--should
+anything else come to light."
+
+"You mean if--if he is arrested?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+She lifted up her head and turned a tear-stained face towards him.
+
+"Have they found him? Have they? Is that why--why I am asked to leave
+the house?"
+
+"No, Mrs. Eustace. A new manager will be appointed, and the house is
+wanted for him."
+
+"But I will not leave Waroona," she exclaimed, as she stood up. "I dare
+not leave it--till I know. If he--suppose he did do it--and wants to
+find me?"
+
+"I should advise you to go right away," Harding said, still speaking
+gently. "You will do no good by remaining here where everybody knows
+what has happened, whereas if you go away you will be able to put all
+the worry of it away from you."
+
+"I will not go."
+
+She spoke with a fierce emphasis, the more pronounced because she felt
+that the course he suggested was the one she ought to follow, and
+resenting it because, by following it, she would pass out of his sight,
+and perchance out of his life for all time.
+
+"I can only advise you," he said. "The new manager may be here in a day
+or two, and the bank will----"
+
+"Oh, I'm not going to stay in this house," she interrupted. "I will be
+out of here to-morrow; but I will not leave Waroona."
+
+"You will make a mistake if you do not, I think, but it is for you to
+decide."
+
+She sat down again, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap.
+
+"If I go--will you--will you write to me?"
+
+"No, I cannot do that," he answered at once.
+
+"May I--write to you?"
+
+"I should be sorry if you did."
+
+She raised her eyes and again looked at him steadily in silence, looked
+until he turned away.
+
+"How hard you make it, how hard!" she said at length. "How am I to know
+what is happening if I go away? I am sure you are expecting his arrest.
+Why did those two troopers go off so mysteriously this afternoon? They
+did not go to the railway. I watched them from upstairs. They rode the
+other way."
+
+He did not reply.
+
+"Will you answer me this one question? Do you believe I know he is the
+thief?"
+
+"If there is anything that I can do to help or assist you in your
+present difficulty, Mrs. Eustace, I shall be only too pleased to do it.
+But I cannot discuss the robbery with you."
+
+For the first time there was a tone of sternness in his voice.
+
+"Then I take it that you do," she said. "I only want to tell you this. I
+still do not believe he did it. I know he is--he is not as you are. I
+have tried to shield this from you. I did not want you to know--then.
+Now I have told you. I did not know he was going to run away. I did not
+know he had gone until Brennan came to arrest him. But I can understand
+why he went. He knew the bank would suspect him at once, knew that there
+was a black record against him. It was cowardly of him, cowardly to
+leave me here alone. But he has gone, and I do not think I shall ever
+hear from him or see him again. That is why I want to remain here. If I
+go away, I may never know; if I am here, I shall be able to find out.
+But don't think that I know either that he intended to run away or where
+he has gone. At least have that much faith in me."
+
+"I did think so," he said quickly. "Now I do not."
+
+"Thank you," she said softly. "I know how difficult it is for you to say
+even that. You cannot discuss the matter, but--don't think harder of me,
+Fred, than you can help."
+
+She turned quickly and hurried from the room. She had scarcely closed
+the door when she reopened it.
+
+"Constable Brennan is asking for you," she said. "Will you go in?"
+
+She pushed the door wide open and Brennan came forward.
+
+"Is Mr. Wallace here?" he asked, as soon as he had seen the door close.
+
+"He has gone to bed--he is rather tired out after his journey. Is it
+anything particular?"
+
+"One of the troopers has just ridden back. When they reached Taloona
+they found the place on fire. The sub-inspector was outside with his
+head smashed, and Mr. Dudgeon, with a bullet through him and his hands
+handcuffed behind his back, lying on the floor of the hut. They saw the
+glare of the fire through the trees and only galloped up just in time to
+get the old man out. He's in a bad way, Conlon said, and so is the
+sub-inspector."
+
+"Wait till I tell Mr. Wallace," Harding exclaimed, as he rushed from the
+room.
+
+Outside in the passage, Mrs. Eustace faced him.
+
+"Fred, what is it? I heard--who is killed?"
+
+"Nobody, I hope. I'll be back in a moment."
+
+He dashed up to Wallace's room and hammered at the door.
+
+"Hullo, what's the matter now?" Wallace cried, as he answered the knock.
+
+"Come down to the dining-room. Brennan is there. One of the troopers has
+come back. Taloona is burnt and both Dudgeon and Durham injured."
+
+When they reached the dining-room they found Mrs. Eustace with Brennan.
+
+"I can be of use. I know how to nurse. I've learned how to give first
+aid. Let me go out and attend to them till the doctor comes. He is
+twenty miles away, and they may bleed to death before he can get there.
+I've got some bandages. I'll fetch them," Mrs. Eustace was saying.
+
+She turned as Wallace and Harding entered.
+
+"Tell them, Brennan, while I get the things," she added as she ran out
+and upstairs.
+
+"It's wicked to think of her wasted on a scoundrel like that," Brennan
+exclaimed. "You heard what she said, sir? I know she's the only one in
+the township who understands what to do till the doctor comes. We've
+sent a man off for him, and they're getting a party together to go out
+and fetch the sub-inspector and the old man in. She's offered to go too.
+It may save their lives, for, from what Conlon said, they're badly hurt,
+both of them."
+
+"Has the gold gone?" Wallace asked.
+
+"I reckon so, though there's no saying until we hear what has happened.
+But it looks like a bad case of sticking the place up and trying to
+murder the inmates. Hullo, there's Mr. Gale calling. He's got his buggy.
+There's a seat to spare if either of you like to go."
+
+"You'd be of more use than I should, Harding," Wallace said.
+
+"Yes, I'll go," the younger man replied.
+
+Mrs. Eustace came running into the room, her arms full of bottles and
+bandages.
+
+"I haven't stopped to sort them out--I'll take all I've got," she
+exclaimed breathlessly.
+
+"I will put them in the buggy while you get a cloak. I am coming with
+you," Harding said, as he took the articles from her and carried them
+out to Gale's buggy, which was drawn up outside the bank.
+
+"You had better bring them here; it's quieter and more roomy than any
+other place in the town," Wallace said to Brennan when they were alone.
+
+"If they can stand the journey," Brennan said under his breath. "I've
+told Conlon to ride back and let us know; I'll have to stay here."
+
+"Then I'll tell Harding."
+
+He reached the front door as Harding was returning, after having packed
+the things Mrs. Eustace had given him in the buggy. At the same moment
+Mrs. Eustace tripped down the stairs and ran across the hall.
+
+"You had better bring them here," he began when she turned quickly
+towards him.
+
+"Bring them here? Mr. Wallace, do you want to kill them? If they are
+badly injured it would be fatal to move them this distance. I will send
+word back at once, but if the doctor comes before you hear, send him on.
+Now, I'm ready."
+
+She went out with Harding at her side.
+
+"I am so glad to have you with me," she said softly. "It is good of you
+to come."
+
+He helped her into the buggy without speaking, though the clinging touch
+of her hand thrilled him. He had known her as a light-hearted girl, full
+of frolicsome impulses and mischievous tricks, and had loved her with a
+passion that kept her ever before him. He had seen her when that
+love-lit image had been veiled by the gloom of seeming disillusion. He
+had seen her striving to sacrifice herself in order to shield the man
+who had blighted her life, and he had seen her as a man loves best to
+see the woman he reveres, throw aside the conventional reserve for him
+to learn the innermost secret of her heart. But never had he seen her as
+she appeared to him at that moment and later, when they arrived at the
+scene of the outrage, cool, clear-headed, capable, thinking only of the
+sufferings of others, cheering them with tactful sympathy, tending them
+with gentle care, the while her own soul was down-weighted with care and
+sorrow.
+
+Throughout the ten-mile drive little was said, each one of the three
+instinctively refraining from all reference to the subject which was
+uppermost in their minds, and failing to maintain even a desultory
+conversation on more commonplace topics. Gale drove his pair at a hand
+gallop all the way till the road swerved from the straight and through
+the dim mystery of the starlit bush an angry red glow showed among the
+trees.
+
+The last of the homestead, now an irregular heap of smouldering ashes
+over which stray lambent flames flickered and danced, served to shed
+sufficient light to show where two still figures lay under the shelter
+of Dudgeon's rackety old buggy, thrown over on its side. The trooper's
+horse, tethered to a tree, pawed the ground impatiently as it champed
+its bit, while its master, with a carbine on his arm, paced slowly to
+and fro. As the galloping pair swung into sight he faced round sharply
+and brought his carbine to the ready, till he recognised Harding.
+
+"Are you the doctor? You're badly wanted," he exclaimed as Gale reined
+up beside him.
+
+"Quick. Help me out," Mrs. Eustace said as Harding leaped to the ground.
+She ran lightly over to the two figures. Through the rough bandage the
+troopers had tied round Durham's head a red stain was spreading. Dudgeon
+lay with glittering eyes staring vacantly. His right leg was bandaged,
+but more than a stain showed upon it.
+
+She knelt down beside the old man, and as with deft, quick fingers she
+untied the bandage, she looked up at Harding.
+
+"Bring me that packet of cotton-wool, the little leather case, all the
+bandages, and the bottle with the red label, at once. Tell the trooper
+to fetch the others."
+
+By the time he returned she had the handkerchief the trooper had bound
+round the old man's leg loosened.
+
+"Open the case and give me the scissors," she said without a trace of
+excitement or nervousness in her voice.
+
+She slipped a rent in the trouser and held the edges back, revealing a
+punctured wound out of which a red stream gushed. In a moment she had a
+wad of cotton-wool rolled and moistened it from the bottle with the red
+label, placing it with a firm light touch on the wound.
+
+"While I hold this, cut the trouser leg right down," she said, and
+Harding, his own nerves steadied by the calmness of hers, did as she
+bid.
+
+The trooper came over with the rest of the articles, and while she
+watched what Harding was doing she told him, quietly, how to prepare a
+lotion and bring it to her.
+
+Gale came over as soon as he had secured his horses.
+
+"Will you go down to the men's huts and see if there is a bunk where we
+can put him?" she said, looking quickly at Gale.
+
+"Why didn't you think of that?" Gale exclaimed as he glanced at the
+trooper. "You ought to have taken them there at once."
+
+"You had better go too," she added to the trooper. "Bring something back
+with you, a door or a table or anything that will do to carry him on."
+
+Left alone with Harding, she never ceased until she had the wound
+stanched, cleansed, and properly bound up.
+
+"There is brandy in that flask, Fred. Mix about a tablespoonful in three
+times as much water."
+
+He brought her the stuff in a pannikin, believing it was for herself.
+
+"Raise his head gently," she said, and slowly poured the mixture between
+the old man's nerveless lips.
+
+Without a pause she turned to Durham and had the ugly wound on his scalp
+laid bare. Snipping the hair away from it, she lightly touched the
+bruised skin surrounding the jagged cut.
+
+"I'm afraid the skull is fractured--I hope the doctor will soon be
+here," she whispered, as she busied herself with the cotton-wool and
+red-labelled bottle.
+
+By the time she had Durham's head bandaged, Gale and the trooper
+returned, carrying the door from one of the huts.
+
+"There are two huts with a single bunk in each, and one with four," Gale
+said.
+
+"Use the two with the single bunks," she said. "When are the others
+coming from the township?"
+
+"They're coming along the road now," the trooper answered.
+
+"Run and see if they have any blankets with them. If not, send someone
+back at once for some."
+
+But there was more than blankets in the buggy that came up at breakneck
+speed. By the veriest chance the doctor had been within a mile or so of
+Waroona and had come away at once, bringing with him such articles as he
+knew would be wanted. He hastened over to the two wounded men just as
+Dudgeon gave utterance to the first sound he had made since the troopers
+had dragged him out of the burning homestead.
+
+The doctor bent over him, rapidly examining the bandage round the leg.
+He stood up and turned to Durham.
+
+"Who put on those bandages?" he asked sharply, as he looked up.
+
+"I did, doctor. I plugged the bullet-hole with an iodoform wad and
+stopped the bleeding. I put a pad on Mr. Durham's wound, but I fancy his
+skull is injured."
+
+"Where were you going to send them?"
+
+"There are two single-bunk huts at the men's quarters. I was going to
+have them taken there on that door until you came."
+
+"We will take them there at once."
+
+Under his directions the two were lifted and carried away to the huts
+and made as comfortable as was possible in the rough timber bunks. With
+Mrs. Eustace and Harding to assist him, he found and removed the bullet
+from the old man's leg and quickly operated on Durham.
+
+"I don't know what they would say in some of the swagger hospitals, if
+they were asked to trepan a man's skull under these conditions," he said
+as the operation was finished. "But he'll pull through, and thank you,
+as the old man will when he knows, for saving his life. Aren't you Mrs.
+Eustace?"
+
+"Yes," she answered.
+
+"I hardly had time to notice who you were before. You're a brave woman.
+For your sake I hope your husband gets away."
+
+The blood surged to her face, and then left it pallid. The shadow of her
+sorrow had been forgotten during the strenuous moments she had gone
+through; the tactless remark brought it back upon her with cruel
+emphasis. She turned aside and slipped through the door at the back of
+the hut while the doctor, oblivious to his blunder, went out at the
+other.
+
+Harding was about to follow her, when one of the troopers appeared at
+the door through which the doctor had gone. He held a letter in his
+hand.
+
+"I found this where the lady knelt when she tied up the sub-inspector's
+head--I fancy it's either hers or yours."
+
+On the flap of the envelope Harding saw the bank's impress.
+
+"It probably is hers," he answered as he took it. "I will give it to her
+at once."
+
+There was no sign of her as he passed out of the little door at the back
+of the hut and, believing she had gone round to the other, he turned to
+go back when, in a limp and dishevelled heap, he saw her lying on the
+ground against the wall of the hut.
+
+Her upturned face was white and drawn as he stooped over her.
+
+"Jess!" he whispered. "Jess! Are you ill?"
+
+She made no response, and he placed his arms gently round her and lifted
+her till she lay in his clasp, her head drooped on his shoulder.
+
+The movement revived her sufficiently for her to know what was
+happening.
+
+A long-drawn sigh escaped her lips and she essayed to stand alone.
+
+"No, Jess, no. Lean on me. You must get back home and rest. You have
+overdone it," he whispered.
+
+"Fred! You!"
+
+The arms that had hung lifeless wreathed round his neck, the head that
+had dropped on his shoulder nestled close and the white face upturned.
+
+"Oh, take me away, Fred, take me away from this horror--anywhere,
+anywhere, so that I may be with you."
+
+"Hush, Jess, hush. You must not talk like that," he whispered, the
+strength of the grip with which he held her and the soft tremor of his
+voice giving her the lie to his words.
+
+"Darling, I must," she answered. "Give me freedom from the misery that
+man has brought into my life. Oh, you do not know what it has been and
+is still. You heard what the doctor said."
+
+She shuddered as she recalled the words.
+
+"The tactless fool," he muttered, resentment rising against the man who
+had not hesitated to add another twelve hours' work to an already
+arduous day when the call of suffering reached him.
+
+"No, he only said what others think. I know, Fred. I can feel it. Mr.
+Gale was the same. They all are."
+
+"You must not think that--you must not," he said. "And you must not stay
+in Waroona. You must go away."
+
+Her arms held tighter.
+
+"I will never go, never, while you remain. Don't despise me, Fred, don't
+think ill of me. I know what I am saying. I am on the edge of a
+precipice. If I go over, I go down, down, down, an outcast, and
+a--a----"
+
+"Don't," he whispered hoarsely. "Don't talk like that."
+
+"Who would care?" she added bitterly, "even if I did?"
+
+It was no longer merely support that his encircling arms gave her as
+they strained her to him.
+
+"It would break my heart," he whispered simply. "I am one who would
+care."
+
+Unconsciously he bent his head, unconsciously she raised hers, until
+their lips met, and in one passionate embrace the intervening years
+since they had been heart to heart before passed as a dream, and only
+did they know that despite all the barriers which had been raised
+between them they were bound by a tie beyond the reach of custom,
+circumstance, or force.
+
+With that knowledge uplifting and upholding them, they drew apart.
+
+"You must go and rest now, Jess. You have need of all your strength to
+face what lies before you," he said gently.
+
+"I don't mind what it is--now," she answered.
+
+"Then I will go and ask Gale to drive you back. I will give you all the
+news when I return in the morning."
+
+"Are you staying?" Gale exclaimed directly he saw him. "I've harnessed
+up, so if you and Mrs. Eustace----"
+
+"I'm staying, but she will come back with you--the experience has been
+rather trying for her."
+
+"Trying?" Gale exclaimed. "She's the noblest woman I've ever met. I
+don't care what's the truth about the bank affair, but there's not a man
+in Waroona who won't reverence that woman when he hears what she has
+done to-night."
+
+"I'll tell her you are ready," Harding answered.
+
+"Where is she? Down at the huts? I'll drive down for her."
+
+She was standing talking to the doctor when Harding returned.
+
+"I'm more anxious about the old man," the doctor was saying as Harding
+came up. "He'll want very careful nursing, so if you could undertake it,
+you'll lift a weight off my shoulders."
+
+"I will be ready to come out to-morrow if you want me," she answered.
+"Send word by Mr. Harding when he comes in--he is going to stay here
+to-night. You will bring me word, won't you?" she added, turning to
+Harding. "Is Mr. Gale driving back?"
+
+"He is coming now to pick you up--here he is," Harding replied as Gale's
+buggy and pair swung into sight.
+
+He helped her in and wrapped a rug round her.
+
+"Don't be late in the morning--I shall be anxious to hear if the doctor
+wants me," she said as Gale turned his horses and drove off.
+
+"She's a splendid woman that," the doctor said as he stood looking after
+the buggy disappearing in the dusk. "Pity she's tied to such a rat as
+that chap Eustace. I suppose you know him?"
+
+"I am in the bank," Harding answered.
+
+"Oh, are you? Then perhaps I've put my foot in it?"
+
+"I don't think so."
+
+"Have you known him long?"
+
+"Eustace? No, only since I've been in the branch--about three weeks."
+
+"I should have judged you had known her for years."
+
+"I have, but I have only known her husband since I have been here."
+
+"Knew her before she was married?"
+
+"That is so."
+
+"Then tell me, why did she want to marry that rat? I've only seen him
+once, but that was more than enough. Smoke! Women are regular
+conundrums. There's that one, as true and big-hearted a creature as
+ever breathed--look at the pluck she showed to-night--and yet she goes
+and throws herself away on a miserable crawler who can't even respect
+the trust his employers placed in him. What does it mean to her? Just
+think of it--the wife of a common thief, worse than a common thief to my
+mind. What'll become of her? He'll be caught and sent to gaol for years.
+What's she going to do then? It's a pity someone doesn't shoot him--it
+would save her from degradation."
+
+The buggy had vanished in the dusk. He turned to his companion. The dim
+light from the hut fell full on Harding's face. The doctor whistled.
+
+"Hope I haven't said too much, old chap. I forgot. If you've known her
+for years--well, you know what I mean, don't you? I must get in to my
+patient. You'll look after the old man? I've given him a draught that'll
+keep him asleep. But call me if you want me."
+
+He went into the next hut where Durham lay. Harding stood where he left
+him, staring away into the night, in the direction the buggy had gone.
+The click-clock of the trotting horses came in a gradually diminishing
+clearness, beating time to the refrain which was running in his mind,
+the refrain of the doctor's words.
+
+If Eustace were captured there was little doubt what the sequence would
+be. A long sentence and his wife branded with the stain of his guilt.
+Better if he were dead--better if he were killed, rather than that
+destiny should overtake her.
+
+Harding's jaw set firm as his teeth gritted.
+
+The memory of her white, drawn face as he saw her lying on the ground
+outside the hut; the memory of her desolate wail for him to take her
+away from the horror of her surroundings; the memory of her patient care
+of the two injured men, injured, perhaps, by the "rat" who had ruined
+her life and his; the memory of her as he had first known her, jostled
+one another in his brain.
+
+Better, a thousand times better, if Eustace were dead.
+
+The doctor, looking out of the next hut, saw him still standing staring
+into the night.
+
+"How's the old man? Restless?" he asked as he came over.
+
+The voice brought Harding back from the clouds--the thunder-clouds,
+towards which he was drifting.
+
+"I'm just going in," he answered.
+
+The doctor followed him to the door. Dudgeon lay breathing peacefully in
+a deep sleep.
+
+"You can roll up in that blanket and make yourself as comfortable as
+possible--I don't think he'll awaken till the morning," the doctor said
+in a low tone when he had crossed to the bunk where Dudgeon lay and
+looked at him. "I must get back to my man."
+
+He went out of the hut without waiting for a reply and Harding made no
+attempt to follow him, but spread the blanket on the floor and lay down
+upon it.
+
+Until that moment he had entirely forgotten the letter the trooper had
+given him. As he lay back it suddenly recurred to him. He sat up and put
+his hand in his pocket to make sure it was still there. As he did so
+the old man stirred, and Harding waited to see whether he was going to
+wake.
+
+He remained with his hand in his pocket until Dudgeon's breathing showed
+he was again soundly asleep. Then, momentarily forgetful of the reason
+why he was holding the letter, he drew it out, took it from the
+envelope, and opened it.
+
+     "No one saw me go, and I am now safe where they will never find me.
+     Stay there till you hear from me again. A friend will bring you
+     word. Ask no questions, but send your answer as directed. You must
+     do everything as arranged, or all is lost. Whatever you do, don't
+     leave till I send you word. I am safe till the storm blows
+     over.--C."
+
+The writing was only too familiar, even without the peculiarly formed
+initial which was Eustace's particular sign.
+
+He sat like one paralysed, his eyes reading and rereading the words
+which changed to mockery all the revived faith in her. His brain grew
+numb. Like a man upon whose head an unexpected blow had fallen, he was
+only half conscious of what had happened. Even as he read and re-read
+the letter he failed to gather all that it meant, all that it revealed.
+The very simplicity of the situation stunned him.
+
+Then through the darkness of his mind there came, in one lurid flash,
+clear as a streak of lightning in the night, the full significance of
+it.
+
+Eustace, having made his escape, had sent the message to her!
+
+The scene in her boudoir the night before; the vision of the horsemen
+coming from the range; the face of the man with the yellow beard at the
+window, all passed before him. While he and Brennan were dashing across
+the yard, she or Bessie had found the note.
+
+So it had come into her possession, and it must have been in her
+possession while she was talking to him after Wallace told her she must
+leave the bank; must have been in her possession while she drove with
+him to Taloona, and, for aught she knew, was in her possession when he
+found her lying senseless outside the hut.
+
+He sprang to his feet, crushing the damning sheet in his hand.
+
+While she clung to him, and he held her in all the fervour of his
+re-awakened love, she must have believed the message he had read was
+still in her keeping.
+
+The sordid duplicity, the rank treachery of it seared and scorched.
+
+Forgetful of the sleeping man whom he was there to watch, forgetful of
+everything save the bitterness of his betrayal, he paced the floor with
+rapid, raging steps.
+
+He had been fooled, heartlessly, callously fooled. The bitterest
+thoughts he had ever had of her were all too gentle in the face of this
+final revelation. She was false to her finger-tips, a syren in cunning,
+a viper in venom.
+
+At the door of the hut he stopped to stand staring out into the dark in
+the direction whither she had gone.
+
+The last echo of the click-clock of Gale's trotting horses had died
+away; the bush lay mysterious and motionless under the silent veil of
+night; no sound came to him save the heavy breathing of the wounded man
+asleep in the hut; but through his brain, with the deadening monotony of
+numbing drumbeats, there throbbed the mocking, taunting words, "Fooled!
+Fooled! Fooled!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+MRS. BURKE'S REBUFF
+
+
+When Harding returned to the bank the next morning, he presented such a
+careworn appearance that Wallace was genuinely concerned.
+
+"Hullo," he exclaimed, "you look as if you had had enough of acting
+night-nurse to wounded men. It has been too much for you, my lad."
+
+"It has been an anxious night," Harding replied. "At first both were
+fairly well, but towards morning old Mr. Dudgeon became very bad. You
+have heard all about the affair, I suppose?"
+
+"I have had a visit from Mr. Gale. There was only one thing he could
+talk about. You will guess what that was. The heroism of Mrs. Eustace."
+
+A cloud came over Harding's face at the mention of her name.
+
+"I have a message for her from the doctor. She offered to return to-day
+if he wanted her help. He asked me to let her know how bad the old man
+had been, and is, and say he would be glad if she could go out at once.
+I've had no sleep all night and am fairly tired out. If you don't mind,
+I'll go and have a few hours' rest."
+
+"Why, of course, my lad, I'll manage the office by myself all right. Go
+and get all the sleep you can. You have earned it."
+
+"Will you let her know what the doctor said?"
+
+"I'll send word to Mr. Gale--I've no doubt he'll let her know," Wallace
+said with a short laugh.
+
+"But isn't she here?"
+
+"No. Gale said the place was in darkness when they passed and rather
+than disturb me she went on to the hotel, where they put her up. Very
+considerate of her, I must admit. She seems to have made the most of her
+time on the drive back with Gale, for he knew all about her having to
+leave the bank premises, and told me he had secured a vacant cottage
+there is in the township for her. But don't waste time talking, my lad.
+You look worn out. Go and get to bed for a few hours. I'll see she has
+the doctor's message."
+
+Harding went to his room with heavy steps. He locked the door and sat
+down, took the crumpled letter out of his pocket and read it through
+again.
+
+Then, sitting on the side of the bed with the letter in his hand, he
+stared at it as he asked himself once more the question which had been
+haunting him since the first rush of indignation passed.
+
+What should he do with it?
+
+Had the letter come into his possession the night of the scene in the
+boudoir, he would have had no hesitation. But much had happened since
+then. He had learned what he believed was the truth about the Eustace
+marriage; he had learned that the love he had treasured so dearly was
+still his. It was the latter which made it so hard for him to know what
+course to follow.
+
+A doubt had come into his mind, a doubt which operated in her favour. To
+hand the note over to the police was to admit he had no faith left in
+her, and he had faith. He could not bring himself to regard her as being
+so absolutely conscienceless as the circumstances suggested. Rather did
+he lean towards the idea that, after all, despite the evidence of the
+facts as they stood, she was innocent. And on that point he wanted to be
+sure rather than sorry.
+
+The opinion of another would be a help to him in coming to the right
+conclusion, but to whom could he turn?
+
+He dare not consult Wallace, who was already prejudiced against her;
+Brennan was out of the question. There was only one other--Durham--and
+he was out of reach, and would be so for some time to come.
+
+So the matter came back to where it started, and Harding, urged one way
+by his love and another by his reason, ultimately adopted a middle
+course.
+
+He determined to confront her with the letter, and tear the mask of
+hypocrisy from her face--if one were there--at the first opportunity.
+For the present the letter should be placed where no one but himself
+could find it.
+
+Taking off his coat, he cut through the seam of the lining, placed the
+letter inside, stitched it to the lining and resewed the seam.
+
+"I will not condemn her unheard," he said. "She shall have the chance of
+defending herself to me before I denounce her. But, if this is true,
+then God help her--and me too."
+
+He flung himself on the bed. He was too tired to worry further. The
+irksome question was shelved--for the moment there was peace, and before
+that moment passed Harding was sound asleep.
+
+Before he awakened, Mrs. Eustace visited the bank, received the doctor's
+message and went on her way to Taloona.
+
+She came with Gale.
+
+"Has Mr. Harding returned yet?" she asked, before Wallace could speak.
+"He was to bring me word whether the doctor wanted me to help to-day."
+
+"He came in about half an hour ago, utterly worn out. I have sent him to
+bed for a few hours," Wallace replied. "He left a message for you--old
+Mr. Dudgeon is very bad, and the doctor sent word that if you could go
+out at once it would be a great help to him."
+
+"Of course I'll go," she exclaimed. "Mr. Gale, you offered to drive me
+if I were wanted. Will you go for the buggy while I get some things
+together to take with me?"
+
+She turned to Wallace when Gale had left the office.
+
+"I suppose you have no objection to my going upstairs?"
+
+"None whatever," he answered.
+
+"I will get what things I want. The others can be taken away later to
+the cottage I am renting. I will give Mr. Gale a list, as he very kindly
+offered to see to the removal if I had to go out to Taloona again."
+
+He held the door open while she passed into the residence portion of the
+building, and closed it after her. He was not a lady's man, even under
+the best of circumstances; with the conviction that Eustace was the
+culprit, not only in the bank robbery, but also in the outrage at
+Taloona, he wished to have as little to say to her as possible. The
+sooner she was out of the place the better he would be pleased.
+
+As he returned to his work, which, at the moment, was a lengthy report
+he was preparing for despatch to the head office in condemnation of
+Eustace, she went through to the kitchen, where she found Bessie.
+
+"I am leaving the bank to-day, Bessie, and all my things are going away.
+I have taken Smart's cottage and am going to live there. Although I
+engaged you, if you think you will do better for yourself by staying
+here, don't let me prevent you."
+
+"Stay on here, Mrs. Eustace? What, after you've gone? No, ma'am, no! If
+you don't want me any longer, there may be someone else in Waroona who
+does, but if this is the only place where I can stay, I'm off to
+Wyalla," Bessie exclaimed.
+
+"I would not like them to think I took you away, Bessie."
+
+"I'm not the Bank's servant; I'm yours. Shall I help you get the
+furniture ready now?"
+
+"No, not just at once. I am going out to Taloona to help the doctor
+nurse Mr. Dudgeon. I only want to take enough with me for a few days.
+Mr. Gale will arrange for removing the rest, but I would like you to see
+they are all taken."
+
+"I'll see that they're taken, and go with them, too, Mrs. Eustace. I
+don't want to stay in a place where everything I do is spied on and made
+bad of. Let me come and help you now."
+
+By the time they had packed a small box, Gale drove up in front of the
+bank.
+
+"I'll take this down," Bessie exclaimed. "It's not heavy."
+
+Mrs. Eustace followed her out of the room.
+
+At the door she stopped. On the other side of the landing was Harding's
+room. She glanced at the closed door.
+
+Stepping over to it, she tapped. There was no response. She turned the
+handle; the door was locked.
+
+She did not want to go without a word for him. She opened her bag to see
+if she had a scrap of paper or a card on which she could scribble a
+line. As she did so, Bessie came up the stairs to ask if there was
+anything else she could do.
+
+"No, that is all, Bessie. You might tell Mr. Harding I have gone. He is
+asleep at present."
+
+Bessie sniffed, with her nose in the air, as she followed her mistress
+down the stairs. Tell Mr. Harding? Tell the man who was, in Bessie's
+mind, the person solely responsible for the indignity placed upon her
+and Mrs. Eustace of being locked in their own rooms by Constable
+Brennan! All the message he would ever receive through her would do him
+good, she told herself.
+
+In the office Wallace heard the buggy drive away and caught a glimpse of
+it as it passed the door. Mrs. Eustace was sitting beside Gale, looking
+up at him and smiling.
+
+The sound of another vehicle driving up to the door interrupted him. He
+looked up from his work as Mrs. Burke came into the office.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Wallace," she exclaimed, "I've looked in as I was
+passing, to inquire what is the latest news about the scoundrels. Have
+they got them yet? Is there any word of my papers?"
+
+"Have you not heard? Has no one----"
+
+"Heard? Heard what? Heavens about us, man, you're not going to tell me
+my papers have been destroyed?"
+
+"Oh, no, I'm not going to tell you that, Mrs. Burke. As the news is all
+over the place, I fancied you must have heard it also. I forgot you were
+away in the bush. Taloona was stuck up last night and burnt to the
+ground; old Mr. Dudgeon was shot and is lying dangerously ill, while
+Mr. Durham had his skull fractured and is at death's door."
+
+Mrs. Burke reeled.
+
+"Oh, my God!" she gasped.
+
+Before Wallace could reach her she lurched heavily forward and fell,
+striking her face against the edge of the counter.
+
+Rushing to the door leading to the house, Wallace called to Bessie.
+
+"Come quickly," he cried, "Mrs. Burke has fainted."
+
+He was raising her from the floor as Bessie came.
+
+"Help me to get her into the dining-room," he exclaimed. "What a silly
+woman! I'm afraid she has hurt her face rather badly. She struck it
+against the counter."
+
+Bessie lent a somewhat unwilling aid. She disliked Mrs. Burke as
+cordially as she disliked Wallace, but she helped to support the
+semi-conscious woman, and undertook to revive her as soon as they had
+placed her on the sofa.
+
+Wallace returned to the office, leaving the two together. Presently Mrs.
+Burke came back, pale and agitated, and with a pronounced discolouration
+on her face where it had come in contact with the counter.
+
+"I must apologise, Mr. Wallace," she began, as soon as she entered the
+office. "Sure it's only us poor weak women who know the cruel pain of
+an unexpected blow. You'll not believe me, but when I heard the
+terrible news, it just turned my heart to stone, it did. Poor Mr.
+Durham! A fine, brave, clever gentleman if ever there was one, Mr.
+Wallace, and to think of him with all his brains scattered. It's no
+wonder I fainted."
+
+"But I did not tell you that, Mrs. Burke. I said his skull was
+fractured, and that he is at death's door."
+
+"Well, isn't that what I was saying?"
+
+"No. I did not say his brains were knocked out. As a matter of fact,
+they are all in his head where I hope they will always remain, so that
+he can complete his task of catching your friends who were so
+considerate as to carry off your papers."
+
+"My friends, do you call them, Mr. Wallace? Sure I'd teach them a new
+form of friendship if I had my hands on them for a few minutes. But tell
+me now, what's being done with those poor wounded creatures? The girl
+told me the old man had had his leg blown off. Well, well! He won't
+refuse a chair next time he comes to see you, I'll wager. Or maybe he'll
+have his twenty-five thousand sovereigns made into a special wooden leg
+to take the place of the other live one he's lost."
+
+"His leg was not blown off--he was shot."
+
+"It's all the same. He won't be able to walk about any more, and sure
+that's bad enough for any man to have to put up with, isn't it, Mr.
+Wallace? How would you like to have it happen to you now? Having to go
+about on a wooden stump or just sit about in the same place from
+morning to night and never a chance of stretching a leg or crossing the
+road."
+
+"But it's not that at all, Mrs. Burke," Wallace exclaimed impatiently.
+"What I said was----"
+
+"Oh, I know, I know," she interrupted. "Well now, don't you think it a
+terrible thing for them to be lying out there without a single woman's
+hand to soothe them in their agony? Only a doctor to look after them and
+maybe a bushman or so to boil a billy and make some tea between whiles.
+It's more than I can bear to think of, Mr. Wallace."
+
+"You don't feel faint again, do you?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, no, not at all, Mr. Wallace. Bessie was very good to me. She would
+be better out there helping to relieve those poor wounded creatures
+instead of idling away her time here, I think; but still, she does her
+best, poor thing, such as it is. But do you know what I thought of
+doing? As soon as I heard the news I said to myself, there was only one
+thing I could do unless I were just a mere bloodless image of a woman.
+I'm going to drive straight away now to Taloona and soothe the pain of
+those poor unfortunates. It's the sound of a woman's voice that is
+cheering to a lonely man when he's in pain, Mr. Wallace."
+
+"Is it?" Wallace said curtly. "I hope you are right, Mrs. Burke, for you
+see Mrs. Eustace is there already."
+
+"Mrs. Eustace! Out at Taloona? Mr. Wallace, it's enough to bring down
+the wrath of Heaven to think of that woman--that--well, I'll not say
+it; but there's her husband robbing me of my papers and the bank of its
+money and maybe robbing and murdering that poor old gentleman as well,
+and she--she of all women on the face of the earth--nursing his victims
+back for him to slay a second time. Sure, I'd--oh, I'd--I don't know
+what I wouldn't do, Mr. Wallace, to a woman like that."
+
+"It will be an interesting meeting between you," Wallace observed drily.
+"I am sorry I cannot come to see it."
+
+"But it's not the old gentleman she's after, Mr. Wallace. I suppose they
+robbed him of his gold?"
+
+"I don't know, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"Oh, you may be sure they did. So there's no more to be had out of him;
+but what would it be worth to that villain of a husband of hers if
+Sub-Inspector Durham were below ground? The only chance I have of ever
+seeing my papers again, Mr. Wallace, is with him. I'll go and drive him
+out to Waroona Downs and nurse him myself. I'll not let it be said that
+Nora Burke forgot a friend in his hour of need."
+
+"I am afraid the doctor will not let him be moved. I suggested bringing
+them in here, but Mr. Gale tells me the doctor said it would be fatal to
+move either at present."
+
+"Then I'll stay and nurse him there. Sure it's that woman I'll watch.
+I'll go away at once."
+
+He did not detain her. He did not even suggest she was going on a
+useless journey. But he sighed deeply as she left the office.
+
+"Little wonder she is a widow," he murmured to himself. "I wonder how
+long the late Mr. Burke managed to survive it? I hope they keep her at
+Taloona for a month."
+
+But she did not reach there that day.
+
+On the way she met Gale returning.
+
+"And what's the news of the poor injured creatures?" she cried as she
+reined in.
+
+Gale shook his head.
+
+"You were not thinking of going out there, were you?" he asked.
+
+"I'm going out to do what I can to soothe the suffering of the
+unfortunates," she answered. "Mr. Wallace was telling me. What a
+frightful thing to happen to them, Mr. Gale. Sure the awful news was too
+much for me to bear, and I just fell like one dead at the sound of it.
+You'll see the mark on my face. They tell me I fell against the counter
+in the bank and might have killed myself entirely with the terrible
+smash I came against the wretched sharp edge, only that I struck it with
+my face instead of the back of my head, though it's little thanks to the
+bank, seeing the way they made the clumsy thing."
+
+"It's no use your going out to Taloona," Gale exclaimed. "No one is
+allowed near the huts where they are. The doctor and Mrs. Eustace are
+the only persons allowed to see the patients."
+
+"And by what right is that woman there?"
+
+"The best right of all, Mrs. Burke. Had it not been for her splendid
+courage, they would both have been dead long before the doctor could
+reach them. She is the only one Mr. Dudgeon will bear near him."
+
+"Oh."
+
+For once the voluble Irish tongue was reduced to the use of a simple
+monosyllable, but into the word there was thrown as much venom as would
+have taken a hundred of the snakes St. Patrick banished from the island
+to supply.
+
+"So it is fortunate I met you, otherwise you would have had a drive for
+nothing," Gale added.
+
+"And how's the sub-inspector?"
+
+"The doctor tells me he is doing as well as one can expect."
+
+"I was going to see if I could not take one of them out to Waroona
+Downs--it's good nursing they'll want, and that they'll get if they're
+in a place where they are properly looked after."
+
+"They are getting that now," Gale retorted shortly.
+
+"I'll go and see for myself."
+
+"If you want to tire your horse, do so, but that is all which will
+happen."
+
+"And why am I to be shut out when that woman is allowed to be there,
+with her husband probably hanging about the place all the time to see
+who else there is to shoot and maim?"
+
+"You have no right to say that," Gale cried angrily. "There is only
+suspicion against her husband, and even if there were more, it would
+not affect her. A noble-hearted woman such as she is should have
+sympathy, not unjust accusation."
+
+"Sure Mr. Eustace would be pleased to know how well his deserted wife is
+getting on with all the admirers she has in the place traipsing after
+her wherever she goes," she retorted.
+
+"You cannot go on even if you wish to," Gale exclaimed. "One of the
+troopers will stop you before you reach the huts."
+
+"Oh, the troopers are there too, are they? It's well to be a miserly old
+skinflint to have the State providing troopers at the ratepayers'
+expense to watch over one. Or maybe they're also giving sympathy to the
+poor distressed lady. Well, I'll interrupt them."
+
+"You will do nothing of the kind, Mrs. Burke. I tell you the doctor sent
+to stop me from driving up to the huts where they are. You would do no
+good by going there; you may do a great deal of harm."
+
+"Oh, indeed. And pray what is there about me that is likely to do harm
+to any man?"
+
+"You know Mr. Dudgeon's character. The doctor says he is in a most
+critical condition. For him to see you now would probably mean his
+death. You remember how bitterly he resented the sale of Waroona Downs
+to you--your presence now would only irritate him and then----" he
+shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"My presence? And what of the presence of the woman whose husband----"
+
+"You must not say that," Gale exclaimed quickly. "It is
+unjust--unwomanly----"
+
+The grey eyes flashed like steel.
+
+"Unwomanly?" she cried. "Me unwomanly?"
+
+She snatched up the buggy whip and in her anger cut at him, but the lash
+fell short, striking one of the horses. The animal plunged at the sting
+and its companion also started.
+
+By the time Gale had them under control, Mrs. Burke was vanishing down
+the road in a cloud of dust.
+
+Where the track to the station branched off the main road one of the
+troopers met and stopped her. The man recognised her from the previous
+day.
+
+"Very sorry, Mrs. Burke," he said, "but I've been sent to stop anyone
+going near the place."
+
+"Why can't I go? I want to know how they are and whether I can't help to
+nurse them," she said.
+
+"They're both pretty bad, I believe," the trooper answered. "I don't
+think you could do anything now, because there's the doctor and Mrs.
+Eustace and my mate looking after them. But I'll tell the doctor, and
+maybe to-morrow----"
+
+Mrs. Burke slowly wheeled her horse.
+
+"I shall not come to-morrow," she said. "It is evident I'm not wanted.
+But I shall come in a few days and take one of them away with me to my
+house. I'm sure Mr. Durham would be much better away from here. Tell the
+doctor I say so. Who is taking Mr. Durham's place?"
+
+"Taking up his work do you mean?"
+
+"Yes--who is looking for the man who stole my deeds from the bank? Why
+aren't you doing it, instead of wasting your time here?"
+
+"Oh, that'll be all right, Mrs. Burke. We've got a clue--don't you be
+uneasy."
+
+"I shall be uneasy until Mr. Durham is able to look after it again. He
+is the only hope I have of ever seeing my papers again."
+
+"You're right," the trooper exclaimed. "He's the smartest man for the
+job there is. That's why he's lying there now--we know for certain he
+was on their track when he got here, and as soon as they saw who it was
+after them, they went for him. It wasn't the fault of the chap who tried
+to brain him that the sub-inspector is alive to-day."
+
+"He is very badly hurt?" Mrs. Burke asked.
+
+"The chap who hit him saw to that--I'd just like to have my hands on him
+for a few minutes, the mean hound. There was probably more than one, and
+while the sub-inspector was facing the others, this one must have crept
+up behind him and tried to brain him from the back. But we'll get him,
+and then he will know something."
+
+"You think you will catch them?"
+
+"Catch them? Of course we shall. But it's the chap who knocked the
+sub-inspector on the head we want mostly."
+
+"You'll punish him when you do catch him?" she asked, with a gleam in
+her eyes.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed.
+
+She leaned forward.
+
+"I hope you do," she said. "I would--if I were a man--even if they had
+not stolen my papers."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+AS THROUGH A MIST
+
+
+Wallace had scarcely completed his report when once more he was
+interrupted by Gale entering the office.
+
+"Mrs. Eustace has given me this order to remove all her belongings at
+once," he said, as he entered the office and handed the order to
+Wallace.
+
+"Very good. I'll tell the girl to bring them downstairs. Will you be at
+the front door?"
+
+"Tell the girl?" Gale remarked. "You don't think it's a girl's job, do
+you, to move a houseful of furniture?"
+
+"There's no furniture; there is nothing here belonging to Mrs. Eustace
+beyond her clothing, and some few odds and ends, I suppose?"
+
+"Then you know very little about the matter, Mr. Wallace. Everything
+beyond that door belongs to Mrs. Eustace; everything in the residence
+portion of this building is hers absolutely, her own personal private
+property. Even that lamp on your table is hers. I have it down on my
+list."
+
+"Oh, that is nonsense, utter nonsense," Wallace exclaimed pompously.
+"The furniture is the property of the Bank."
+
+"The furniture is not the property of the Bank. Ask Mr. Harding."
+
+"He is asleep at present, but----"
+
+"Then he had better get up, because I am about to remove the bed on
+which he is sleeping. It belongs to Mrs. Eustace; so do the blankets,
+the sheets, the coverlet, everything, in fact, even to the towels in his
+room."
+
+"What absolute preposterous nonsense!" Wallace replied. "I never heard
+of such a thing. The Bank always provides furniture for its branches."
+
+"And does the Bank always allow the wife of a branch manager so much a
+year for the use of that furniture, napery, linen, cutlery, and the
+rest?"
+
+"Why ask such a ridiculous question?"
+
+"Because Mrs. Eustace has been paid such an allowance since she has been
+in Waroona. Refer to the office records. They will show you whether it
+is so or not."
+
+Wallace turned to the book-racks, and pulled down the ledger. Running
+his eye down the index, he saw the item "Furniture Account." Opening the
+book at the page indicated, he read enough to prove to him that Gale's
+statement was correct.
+
+"Then all I have to say is, that it is extremely unusual," he said, as
+he slammed the book, and returned it to its place.
+
+"I am not concerned in that, Mr. Wallace. All I know are the facts. Now
+that you are also satisfied, you will see the work is hardly what a girl
+can carry out. I'll send half a dozen men down at once."
+
+"But," Wallace exclaimed, looking up aghast, "you don't mean to say you
+are going to remove everything?"
+
+"Mrs. Eustace has given me her order to remove all her belongings. That,
+I understand, includes everything in the living portion of the premises,
+and the lamp now standing on your table."
+
+"But what am I to do? What is Harding to do? We cannot sleep on the bare
+boards and eat our meals raw."
+
+"I don't see what concern that is of mine. You requested Mrs. Eustace to
+vacate these premises at once, and she is doing as you asked. It is not
+for you to complain, surely?"
+
+"It is, under the circumstances, most decidedly it is. Someone must
+always be on the premises after what has occurred; but if there is
+nothing on which to sleep, what can be done? Mrs. Eustace knew the
+furniture belonged to her and should have said so."
+
+"I am afraid I cannot agree with you," Gale replied. "You should have
+known the furniture was hers. Your one desire, it seems to me, was to
+vent on her head the wrath of the Bank at what may, or may not have
+been, her husband's fault. Whether it added to the trouble she already
+had did not matter to you in the slightest. But directly you find that
+your spite recoils on yourself and entails some inconvenience for you,
+there is a very different tale to tell. Personally I am very glad to
+think you can be inconvenienced. You had better have Harding called, as
+I shall be back in half an hour with my men. Oh, by the by, the servant
+is engaged by Mrs. Eustace, not by the Bank. She will leave with the
+furniture."
+
+He enjoyed the look of consternation on Wallace's face. The banker could
+not deceive himself. Gale held him in a cleft stick.
+
+"But this cannot go on," he exclaimed. "Mrs. Eustace must see how
+unreasonable it is. The Bank is entitled to at least a month's notice,
+before the things can be removed."
+
+"It is the Bank that gave the notice. Mrs. Eustace was told to go at
+once. Well, she waived her right to demand time and said she would go at
+once. Now you blame her!"
+
+"Will she sell the furniture?"
+
+"No, she will not."
+
+"I shall go to Taloona and see about it."
+
+"It will not assist you if you do. In the first place, you will not be
+able to see her, and, in the second, even if you did see her, you would
+only learn that the matter has been placed in my hands."
+
+"Then, if it is in your hands, deal with it as a reasonable business
+man. While Mrs. Eustace remains at Taloona she will not require the
+furniture; it will be at least a couple of weeks before we can have any
+sent up to serve us. How much does Mrs. Eustace want for the hire of
+what is in the house at present?"
+
+"Twenty pounds a week," Gale replied, without moving a muscle, even when
+Wallace flared up at the proposal.
+
+"Utterly preposterous," he cried. "Ten shillings a week was what was
+allowed her. That amount is ample."
+
+"You are the buyer, not the seller, Mr. Wallace. You pay twenty pounds a
+week, or the furniture goes. Even at that sum I consider that Mrs.
+Eustace is placing the Bank under a distinct obligation to her."
+
+There was no escape; reluctantly Wallace admitted it, and agreed to the
+terms, humiliating though they were. But it was still more humiliating
+for him to learn the following day that Mrs. Eustace declined to accept
+anything whatever, but allowed the Bank to use the furniture and retain
+the services of Bessie until other arrangements could be made.
+
+"What is the game she is playing?" he said to Harding. "Is it all part
+of some elaborate scheme between herself and her husband, or is she
+really sincere?"
+
+The letter sewn into the lining of his coat seemed to burn itself into
+Harding's back. Was it all part of an elaborate scheme, part of the
+"everything" she had to do "as arranged"? If he could only be sure!
+
+"I don't know what to make of it," he answered. "I don't know." But
+while they were speculating at the bank as to the sincerity or
+insincerity of Mrs. Eustace, she was driving her own troubles from her
+mind by the constant and unremitting care of a taciturn and exacting
+patient.
+
+For the first two or three days after the bullet was extracted from his
+leg, Dudgeon was in a high state of fever. In his semi-delirium he
+babbled incessantly of Kitty, grew dangerously excited whenever the
+doctor came near him, and would only be pacified by the presence of Mrs.
+Eustace. In his lucid intervals he told her over and over again the
+story of his betrayal; when his mind wandered, he regarded her as the
+Kitty he had known before the shattering of his life's romance. It was
+difficult for her to decide which experience was the more trying.
+
+Later, when the fever left him, he was as a child in her hands,
+listening while she read or talked to him, taking anything she brought
+him without demur, and only showing signs of impatience when she left
+the hut for a while.
+
+Consequently, she was unable to give any attention to Durham, and as the
+days slipped by the doctor began to chafe, for there were patients
+scattered through the bush whom he was anxious to visit, but he could
+not go away and leave both men to Mrs. Eustace to nurse.
+
+It was at this juncture that Mrs. Burke put her threat into execution,
+and drove over to Taloona in a big old-fashioned waggonette with Patsy
+perched on the box and a store of blankets inside.
+
+"I've come to do my share of the work," she told the doctor. "They
+stopped me from coming before--I was turned back by a trooper a mile
+from the house. But I'm tired of waiting for word how the poor fellows
+are, and have just come to take one of them away with me."
+
+She had driven right up to the huts, and the sound of her voice
+penetrated both. Old Dudgeon, striving to sit up, stared at Mrs. Eustace
+with gleaming eyes.
+
+"That devil," he muttered. "It's her voice. I'd know it in a million.
+Keep her away! Don't let her come near me, or I'll----"
+
+"Hush, you must not get excited," Mrs. Eustace said, as she gently
+pushed him back. "No one is coming in here. I'll see to that. I'll shut
+the door and bolt them out."
+
+In the other hut the patient's eyes also gleamed, but with a different
+light. The forced inaction, the solitude, the wearying monotony of lying
+still, to one accustomed to a life full of incident and action, was more
+than trying; but when, as was the case with Durham, there was urgent and
+engrossing work to be done, the compulsory delay aggravated the evils of
+the injury he had sustained.
+
+Through the long hours he chafed against the helplessness which
+prevented him from following up the clue he had already obtained, but
+still more did he chafe against his inability to renew his acquaintance
+with the woman who had fascinated him.
+
+He was anxious to make headway in her estimation so that he would have
+some understanding, however slight, with her when the recovery of her
+papers and the winning of the reward gave him the opportunity of
+offering her marriage. His impatience bred many fancies in his mind.
+Daily he pictured to himself the danger of someone else becoming his
+rival in her affections.
+
+Were he free to see her he did not fear defeat; but while he was lying
+helpless at Taloona anything might be happening at Waroona Downs.
+
+That morning the doctor had told him it would be weeks before he would
+be well enough to resume work if he did not make more rapid progress. He
+had poured out professional platitudes against the folly of fretting and
+worrying against the inevitable, but neither his platitudes nor the
+soundness of his reasoning could still the eager longing which was at
+the root of the patient's retarded convalescence.
+
+If he could only see her the days would not be so blank; even to hear of
+or from her would be something; but this complete separation, this
+seemingly hopeless isolation racked him with impatience. Wherefore the
+sound of her voice breaking in upon his mournful reveries, of which she
+was the central figure, made his heart leap with delight.
+
+Come to take one of them away with her! Saving that his head swam so
+much when he moved he would have crawled out of his bunk and appealed to
+her that he should be the one, lest the other should be before him.
+
+He strove to catch something more of the conversation carried on between
+her and the doctor, but their voices were not sufficiently loud for him
+to hear more than the sound of them. The creaking of the door as it
+opened made him turn his eyes as the doctor came in.
+
+"I've a visitor to see you. Do you think you can stand it?" he asked.
+
+Over the doctor's shoulder Durham caught a glimpse of Mrs. Burke, and
+the smile that rippled over his face was all the answer he had time to
+give before she stood beside him.
+
+"Oh, the poor, poor fellow," she exclaimed softly. "Sure he's just
+pining for a change of air and a sight of the bush once more. It's
+Waroona Downs that's the place where he can get what he wants and
+recover so as to catch those villains that have done him so much harm.
+I've come to fetch you, Mr. Durham. I've a waggonette outside and a
+storeful of blankets, and Patsy to drive--sure he can't go faster than a
+funeral at the best, so there's no fear of any jolting on the way. If
+you want to come, the doctor says you may, and he'll ride along later
+and see you are all fixed up before he goes after his other patients who
+are all dying, poor things, without his help one way or the other."
+
+Would he go? His pale cheeks flushed at the chance of escape from the
+deadly solitude of the past few days. Anywhere would be better than
+inside that bare, cheerless hut, anything preferable to lying on the
+hard wooden bunk with only a blanket over him, and only an occasional
+flying visit from Mrs. Eustace and the periodical dosing by the doctor.
+But Waroona Downs with the woman he was beginning to idolise daily with
+him!
+
+"Will you come?" she asked softly, as he did not speak.
+
+"If I only could," he answered.
+
+"There, doctor, you heard him? I'll tell Patsy to spread the blankets on
+the floor of the waggonette, and sure he'll never know he's moving till
+he's there."
+
+"It may shake you up a bit," the doctor said, as Mrs. Burke left the
+hut. "But I must get away to a case to-morrow, and the old man is as
+much as any woman can look after. Do you think you can stand the drive?"
+
+"I'd stand anything to get out of this place," Durham answered. "If you
+think I can stand it, I'm satisfied."
+
+"Oh, you're tough enough to stand anything," the doctor replied. "You
+could not be alive to-day if you had not the constitution of a
+steam-engine. They'd charge me with manslaughter down in one of the
+cities, moving a man who had barely had a week's rest after a crack in
+his skull; but we have to take things as they come in the bush, my lad,
+and it's mostly rough at the best."
+
+New life seemed already to have come to him, and when they had placed
+him in the waggonette, lying comfortably on the pile of blankets Mrs.
+Burke had spread, the wan weariness had gone and Durham smiled up into
+the face that looked down on him with so much softness in the
+dark-lashed eyes.
+
+Overhead the sky was blue as turquoise, and the clear sunlit air fanned
+him with a faint breeze redolent with the aromatic perfumes which float
+through the atmosphere of the bush. The horses moved along at the
+slowest pace they could manage beyond a walk, and the gentle sway of the
+waggonette on its easy, old-fashioned springs lulled Durham into a
+delightful sense of restfulness and content. Gradually his eyelids grew
+heavy and drooped; peaceful, restful, he floated away into slumber as
+easily as though he had been a child rocked in a cradle.
+
+The sunlight had given place to the shade of evening when he opened his
+eyes. The rhythmic beat of the horses' hoofs blended harmoniously with
+the sway of the vehicle in which he was travelling, and the cool air was
+filled with a delicious fragrance. He awakened with so keen a sense of
+vitality that for the moment he forgot he was an invalid, and made an
+effort to rise. But the strength he felt in his muscles was only the
+trick of his imagination; he could barely lift his head.
+
+But that was sufficient to show him that he was in the waggonette alone.
+The seat where Mrs. Burke had been when his eyes closed was unoccupied.
+He turned sufficiently to look at the box-seat. A figure loomed through
+the dusk, but it seemed more sturdy than the withered frame of old
+Patsy.
+
+He made another effort to sit up. It was not entirely successful, but it
+enabled him to see out of the vehicle. Away behind them the dark shadow
+of the range between the township and Waroona Downs rose against the
+sky.
+
+"Where is Mrs. Burke?" he called, turning his face towards the form of
+the driver.
+
+The horses stopped, and the figure on the box leaned back as a merry
+laugh came down to him.
+
+"Oh, are you awake then? Sure I thought you were asleep for good and all
+the way you never moved all the journey. And did you think I had
+vanished and left you to the tender mercies of that old fool? Well, now,
+that's a poor compliment to yourself surely, to think I'd run away from
+you as soon as I saw your eyes were closed. No, no, I've got charge of
+you till you are well and strong again, though maybe I'll have hard work
+to shunt you at all then, you'll be so used to being nursed. But I had
+to come and drive while I sent the old man on ahead to get the door open
+and a fire alight so as to give you something hot to cheer you as soon
+as you reached the house."
+
+"But he cannot walk quicker than we are going?"
+
+"Going? Why, we're standing still. So we were at the top of the hill
+where the horses, poor beasts, wanted a long rest to get their wind
+again, seeing how they had come all the way without as much as a five
+minutes' break since we started. You were sleeping through it all so
+peacefully I had not the heart to disturb you, but sent the old man on
+ahead while I climbed up here. Sure we're nearly there; I can see the
+light of the lamp shining out of the window. Just keep quiet and rest
+now till we're there."
+
+She started the horses again, and Durham lay back on his blankets till
+he felt the waggonette turn off the main road and drive slowly up to the
+house.
+
+As it stopped, he managed to raise himself into a sitting position.
+There was a momentary humming in his head, and he gripped the seats to
+steady himself. The cessation of the noise made by the moving wheels and
+trotting horses accentuated to his ears the still silence of the night.
+So quiet was it that as the humming passed from him the creaking of the
+springs when Mrs. Burke swung herself down from the box-seat seemed an
+actual noise.
+
+Patsy's heavy tread echoed on the bare boards of the verandah. For a
+second they stopped, and through Durham's brain there rang a curious
+stifled sound, something like a cry coming from afar, a cry indistinct
+and choked as if it were muffled.
+
+The loud tones of Mrs. Burke's voice, speaking quickly and decisively,
+drowned it before the dulled brain could either locate whence it came or
+decide whether it was anything more than a variation of the humming in
+his ears.
+
+"Come along now, Patsy. Hasten, you slow old fool. Don't you know Mr.
+Durham will be tired?"
+
+The old man stumbled and blundered down the steps, and Mrs. Burke came
+to the end of the waggonette.
+
+"Oh, now, now! Sure is it wise to do that?" she exclaimed, as she saw
+Durham sitting up. "Why didn't you wait till we could help you?"
+
+She leaned in and took hold of his arm.
+
+"If you back the waggonette against the steps, I can get out easier," he
+said.
+
+"Of course, of course. Now then, Patsy, why didn't you think of that?"
+she exclaimed. "Turn the horses round while I stay with Mr. Durham."
+
+She sat on the floor of the vehicle, still holding Durham's arm.
+
+The touch of her hands, the sound of her voice as she maintained a
+steady stream of directions to Patsy, the fact of being so near to her,
+filled Durham with a gentle soothing. The dreaminess which had been upon
+him when the journey began, and before he sank into the contented
+slumber, returned. Her voice reached him as from a distance; his grip of
+the seats loosened, and as the waggonette turned he swayed until his
+head drooped upon the shoulder of the woman by his side.
+
+Thereafter all was vague and misty until he came to himself and knew he
+was ascending the short flight of steps leading to the verandah, with
+Mrs. Burke supporting him on one side and Patsy the other.
+
+As he reached the verandah his legs trembled beneath him, and he stood
+for a moment, leaning heavily upon the arms which supported him.
+
+Again there came to his dulled brain the sound like a distant stifled
+cry.
+
+"What's that?" he muttered. "What's that?"
+
+"Oh, lean on me. Don't fall now. Oh, keep up, keep up. Sure what will
+the doctor say when he comes if you've hurt yourself?" the voice of Mrs.
+Burke said in his ear.
+
+"But that--that cry," he gasped. A cold shiver ran through him.
+
+"There's no cry; there's nothing but me and old Patsy. Keep up, now. If
+you're worse, oh, what will the doctor say?"
+
+The glare from the lamp shining through the open window grew dim; the
+floor of the verandah rose and fell; his arms dropped nerveless to his
+sides and, with the faint muffled cry still ringing in his ears, Durham
+went down into oblivion.
+
+Once the veil partly lifted, and he saw, as through a mist, Mrs. Burke
+standing defiantly before a man who slunk away out of the room while she
+turned quickly and came to the couch where he was lying and bent over
+him. As in a dream he felt her cool hand touch his brow and her face
+come close to him.
+
+"Oh, why? Why?" he heard her whisper. "Why have you come into my
+life--now--to bring love to me? Better if I were dead; but I cannot let
+you go, I cannot! Oh, my love, why have you come so late to me?"
+
+Her lips were pressed to his, her arms encircled his neck, and as he
+thrilled at her touch, at her voice, at her presence, he essayed to
+answer her. But he had no strength even to move his lips in response to
+her kiss, no power to raise a hand. It was as though his will no longer
+had control over his muscles, as though his consciousness were something
+apart from his body, something floating in space, voiceless, nerveless,
+motionless, apart from himself, apart from all save the love she had for
+him, and the love he had for her.
+
+And in the glamour of that love, the bare knowledge that he existed at
+all faded away, until he was as one enveloped in a mist through which
+neither sight nor sound could penetrate.
+
+The sunlight was streaming around him when next he remembered. He was
+lying in a bed in an unfamiliar room. By his side the doctor was
+standing. His first memory was of the stifled cry which had come to him
+as he stepped on to the verandah.
+
+"Ah, you're awake again, are you?" the doctor said cheerily. "Well, how
+do you feel now?"
+
+"Where am I?" Durham asked weakly.
+
+"Oh, you're where you're all right, if you feel all right. Do you?"
+
+"I'm--this isn't the hut."
+
+He glanced round the room which was at once strange and familiar to him.
+
+"Don't you remember leaving there? You ought to. Don't you remember how
+we got you into the waggonette? When we put you on the blankets? Just
+think. You're at Waroona Downs. Mrs. Burke brought you."
+
+"But I--how did I get here?" Durham repeated, glancing again round the
+room. Then it was that the memory of the cry forced itself to the
+front.
+
+"Who was it?" he asked. "Who was it?"
+
+Another figure joined the doctor, and Mrs. Burke looked down at him.
+
+"Who was what?" the doctor asked.
+
+"That cry--the cry I heard," Durham replied.
+
+"There was no cry," the doctor said. "You've been dreaming."
+
+Durham looked from one to the other. As his eyes rested on Mrs. Burke's,
+vaguely there came to him the visionary recollection of her kneeling
+beside him with her arms around him and her lips pressed to his.
+
+"Dreaming?" he said slowly. "Dreaming? Was it all dreaming?"
+
+He was looking straight into her eyes, as he spoke, forgetful of the
+doctor's presence, watching for the return of the soft love-light which
+had filled her eyes in that memoried scene. But no love-light shone from
+them. They were unmoved, cold in their grey-blue depths almost to
+hardness.
+
+"Listen to me, my lad," the doctor said briskly. "The drive in from
+Taloona shook you up a bit, they tell me. Made you delirious, so that
+they had to keep you on the sofa all night watching you. That's where I
+found you when I got here at dawn. But you'll be all right now, I fancy,
+if you keep quiet and don't think about things that never happened.
+You're at Waroona Downs in bed, and Mrs. Burke and that old idiot of a
+doddering Irishman are looking after you. That's all you've got to
+remember."
+
+"Except to get well," Mrs. Burke added.
+
+"Yes, except to get well; and I reckon your nurse will see to that. I'll
+call in again to-morrow or the next day. But remember--no more dreams."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+REVENGE IS SWEET
+
+
+As the days wore on and Durham won his way back to health, he waited in
+vain for a token from Mrs. Burke that the memory which persisted so
+clearly was other than the figment of a dream.
+
+Although she gave him every attention a sick man required, there was
+neither look nor word from her to justify him in believing that the
+memory was of an actual scene. For hours she would be with him, reading
+to him, talking to him, meeting his glance freely and frankly; but never
+was there the veriest hint of the emotion he had seen in her eyes on
+that occasion.
+
+Nor did he hear again the curious stifled cry which had seemed to ring
+in his ears the night he arrived. He was constantly on the alert for it,
+both by night and day, while he was confined to his room and later when
+he was able to get out on to the verandah. But there was no repetition
+of it, until at last he had perforce to accept the doctor's view and
+regard it, as well as the other memory, as merely the vagaries of
+delirium.
+
+But if she gave him nothing whereon to feed the love he had for her,
+that love did not diminish as the days passed. It took a deeper and
+firmer hold upon him until he lived in a veritable Fool's Paradise,
+giving no thought of the morrow, saving that it would be spent with her,
+and forgetting even the task which had brought him to the district. The
+outside world did not obtrude itself upon him, till the doctor declared
+that only once more would he visit him. Then it came with a rush.
+
+A dozen questions forced themselves upon his mind.
+
+Since his arrival at Waroona Downs, no word had reached him from
+Brennan, no mention had been made of the robberies. When, once or twice,
+he had attempted to speak of them, Mrs. Burke told him the doctor's
+orders were that he was not to be allowed to dwell upon anything likely
+to disturb him, and she insisted on carrying out those orders. He had
+always yielded, lest she put into execution the threat she made, to
+leave him to the tender mercies of old Patsy for a whole day. But now
+the injunction was removed, for the doctor himself had asked whether he
+should tell Brennan to come out.
+
+Durham awaited his arrival with impatience. Now that he allowed his mind
+to revert to more prosaic matters than the object of his adoration, he
+concluded that, as he had not been troubled with official detail,
+someone else had been sent up to continue the investigation into the
+mystery.
+
+He ran over the names of the men most likely to be entrusted with the
+work, speculating which one it was, and what course he had followed. He
+hunted for the letter he had found the day he discovered the track
+leading to the lake among the hills, and when he could not find it, he
+inferred that after he had been struck down at Taloona, the two
+marauders had searched him and had recovered what would have been
+invaluable evidence against Eustace.
+
+The excuse Mrs. Burke had put forward for refusing to discuss the matter
+with him suggested she knew he had been superseded; the belief grew in
+his mind that his successor had succeeded in either tracing the stolen
+gold or securing the arrest of Eustace, and perhaps his companion also.
+Mrs. Burke, knowing this, had declined to talk lest she revealed the
+secret and gave him, as she would consider, cause for mental anxiety and
+distress.
+
+It was therefore a great surprise for him to learn from Brennan, as soon
+as he came out, that no one had been sent up to take charge of the case;
+that no arrest had been made, nor clue discovered; but that everything
+had been allowed to remain as it was until such time as he was
+sufficiently recovered to resume duty.
+
+"They should not have done that," he exclaimed. "Look at the time
+wasted."
+
+"I understand the Bank wished it, sir," Brennan answered. "Mr. Wallace
+told me as much. He said he and his directors were satisfied no one
+could solve the riddle as you could, and head-quarters had been asked
+not to put anyone else in charge, but to leave you with an absolutely
+free hand."
+
+"It is very good of them," Durham said. "But still--look at the chance
+it has given the thieves to get away with the gold."
+
+"They haven't gone, sir," Brennan said quietly.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"One of them was seen only last night," Brennan continued in a low tone.
+"He was seen on the Taloona road, riding the white horse. That is what
+puzzles me. How does he hide that horse? It's never been seen in any of
+the paddocks for miles round, for everyone is on the watch for it. And a
+man can't hide a white horse in a hollow log--it must run somewhere some
+time."
+
+"Where is Mrs. Eustace?"
+
+"She's at Smart's cottage. She came in from Taloona yesterday. That's
+what makes it strange, to my mind, this white horse and rider being seen
+on the Taloona road the day she leaves the place."
+
+"Where are the troopers--Conlon and his mate?"
+
+"Went away three days ago, sir, on orders from head-quarters."
+
+"And Mr. Dudgeon?"
+
+"Oh, he's still at Taloona. They say he's pretty well right again,
+except that he limps with a stick."
+
+"I suppose his gold was taken?"
+
+"Every atom of it, sir. We found the spot where it had been dug up under
+the ashes of the house. But that doesn't seem to trouble him very much.
+All he wants is to have the men who stuck up the place caught and
+hanged."
+
+"How did Mrs. Eustace come in?"
+
+"Mr. Gale drove her in, sir. He's been to and fro most every day."
+
+"But he didn't meet the man on the white horse?"
+
+"Yes, sir. It was Mr. Gale who brought me word of it. He said he thought
+it must be Eustace, and asked if he would be justified in shooting him
+if he met him face to face. Mr. Harding asked the same thing."
+
+"Of course, you told them no."
+
+"Well, sir, to tell you the truth, I said it might be the best thing for
+Mrs. Eustace, seeing what the conviction of her husband meant for her,
+but that it might mean a charge of murder if it were done."
+
+Durham sat silent for a time.
+
+"Come out for me to-morrow, will you, Brennan?" he said presently. "I
+can't wait for the doctor. This has got to be dealt with promptly,
+unless we are to lose the game."
+
+When Brennan had gone, Durham sat on the verandah alone. Now that he had
+taken hold of the case again, all the fascination his work had for him
+returned. He became so engrossed in the contemplation of the problem
+that unnoticed the sun went down to leave the young crescent moon
+shedding a fitful light over the silent bush. Unnoticed, also, were the
+sound of footfalls as Mrs. Burke came out on to the verandah.
+
+For a time she stood watching him. Had he turned quickly he might have
+seen in her eyes something of the expression for which he had looked so
+often. But reading the riddle of the robberies was too enthralling a
+subject, and so he missed his opportunity, for when she crossed to the
+hand-rail against which he was sitting, every suggestion of the
+expression had gone from her face.
+
+Standing where the moonlight fell upon her, she leaned against one of
+the verandah posts without speaking. It was then he saw her, and from
+within the shadow he feasted his eyes upon the beauty of her face and
+form so clearly outlined against the soft-toned evening sky.
+
+"Brennan has gone?" she asked, suddenly turning towards him.
+
+"Yes. Brennan has gone. And this--this is my last evening here," he
+answered in a low voice. "To-morrow I resume duty."
+
+He waited for the remark he hoped she would make, but she merely looked
+away over the silvery haze of the bush apparently unmoved, nay, even
+uninterested in the announcement he had made.
+
+"Don't you ever feel compassion for the poor creatures you are chasing
+to their doom?" she asked presently.
+
+"Why should there be compassion for them?" he asked in reply.
+
+"Don't you ever feel it? Don't you ever stop to wonder if only they are
+to blame?"
+
+"I am merely concerned in what they have done. Until they have placed
+themselves in antagonism to the laws of society, I have nothing to do
+with them. When they violate the law, then I am bidden to track them
+down so that they may be made to answer for the wrongs they may have
+done. It would assist neither them nor myself were I to lose myself in
+compassionate consideration of things I know nothing about."
+
+"But surely--you must sometimes feel sorry for them--must pity them in
+their misfortune?"
+
+"There are too many who deserve pity, Mrs. Burke, for me to waste any of
+mine on people who only injure others. All my pity and sympathy go to
+the victimised, not to the victimisers."
+
+"It seems so hard, so merciless, so hopeless," she said after a few
+minutes' silence.
+
+"Have you any compassion for those who stole your papers? Would you have
+them escape capture and punishment, and so lose for ever all hopes of
+recovering those papers?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+There was a note of sadness in her voice, a note almost as unfamiliar as
+the brevity of her reply.
+
+"To what compassion is the man entitled who struck me down?"
+
+"You don't know--you don't know what made him do it. He may have been
+forced to do it for the sake of his companion, to save both of them."
+
+"Save himself and his companion from what? From capture while committing
+an outrage and a robbery. I do not see where any reason for compassion
+comes in, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"And you would show him none?"
+
+"None," he answered fiercely. "I look upon that man, whoever and
+wherever he may be, as a menace to mankind. He is unfit to be at large."
+
+"If you saw him, you would shoot him?"
+
+"If I saw him I should try and capture him and hand him over for trial."
+
+"But if you could not capture him? If he were escaping from you?"
+
+"Then I would shoot him--shoot him like a dog, and be satisfied I had
+done my duty."
+
+He stood up as he spoke and came into the moonlight, his face hard set,
+his eyes gleaming.
+
+She raised her hands and held them out towards him with so impetuous a
+gesture that he drew back.
+
+"I hope that you may never meet him--never--never," she said in a low
+voice which vibrated with emotion.
+
+"Why?"
+
+Durham rapped out the question in a savage staccato.
+
+"Because I--oh!" she exclaimed, as she shuddered. "It is so horrible to
+think of, to think that you who--when you were delirious, Mr. Durham,
+you used to talk--you used to say things so full of tenderness and
+sympathy that I wondered--wondered whether you were then your real self
+or whether your real self was the man you are now--hard, stern,
+pitiless, relentless. It was because of that I asked you if you ever
+felt compassion for those you chase to their doom. I would rather
+remember you as the man I learned to know when you unconsciously
+revealed to me your other nature. It is only as that I care to remember
+you. But if you met that man and killed him--oh, how could I bear to
+think of you as a murderer? It would kill me!"
+
+"I should not be a murderer. I should be carrying out my duty--a duty I
+hope I may never be called upon to perform, but one which I should not
+shrink from performing if I were called on by circumstances to perform
+it."
+
+For a space there was another silence between them, until he remembered
+she was standing.
+
+"Will you not sit down?" he said quietly. "Let me bring you a chair.
+This is my last night here," he said, when she had taken the chair he
+brought. "Do not let us talk about that wretched side of life. I want,
+before I go, to thank you for all the goodness and kindness you have
+shown to me. You have been----"
+
+She made an exclamation of impatience.
+
+"You have nothing to thank me for, Mr. Durham. Surely there is nothing
+deserving of thanks in doing what one could to relieve unmerited
+suffering. I only had--compassion."
+
+"It was more than compassion. It was the----"
+
+"Now, please. You will only annoy me if you say any more about it. If
+you had had a skilful nurse, you would have been cured long ago; it was
+my foolish blundering which delayed you so long."
+
+"Your blundering? If everybody would only blunder as you have, Mrs.
+Burke, then there would----"
+
+"You must not say that, Mr. Durham," she interrupted.
+
+"But indeed I must," he answered softly. "You have not only brought me
+back to health, but you have given me new life--something I never had
+before--not until I met you. I want to tell you. I want----"
+
+"No, no," she exclaimed, as she rose to her feet. "You must not talk
+like that. You must not, really. I will not listen to you, I must not."
+
+He lay back in his chair and she resumed her seat in silence.
+
+"What news had Brennan?" she asked presently. "You see, I have not been
+in the town since you came here," she went on. "One likes to know what
+is going, especially when one is isolated. Has the new manager arrived
+at the bank yet?"
+
+"I think not, but I did not ask. Brennan would probably have mentioned
+it though, if it were so."
+
+"I must come in and see about engaging someone to get the place ready
+for stock," she said. "The old man is not a scrap of use. In fact, I
+wish he were back in Ireland. He has the usual Irish failing, Mr.
+Durham. You know what that is. I'm always afraid that he will break out
+if ever he gets into the town by himself."
+
+"Drink?" Durham asked.
+
+"Oh, something terrible. I don't think he has had any since you have
+been up here, but one never knows. Any time I may find him helpless. It
+makes me uneasy until I have someone else about the place. Sure you can
+never say what a man like that will do. He might set the whole place on
+fire over my head, and I should never know it till I was burned to death
+perhaps."
+
+"May I make inquiries for you to-morrow, when I get into town? Mr. Gale
+may know----"
+
+"Mr. Gale? Oh, he's a likely man to bother himself about my affairs now.
+It was Mr. Gale stopped me from going to Taloona when I heard first
+about your--accident. All he could talk about was the good Mrs. Eustace
+was doing, and I said it was as well perhaps that Mr. Eustace was not at
+home, seeing the interest all the men in the place were taking in his
+lady. Sure now, is there any news of the creature--Mr. Eustace, I
+mean--there's no need to ask about Mrs. Eustace. Has any trace at all
+been found of the scoundrel?"
+
+"I can't say, really," he answered slowly. "I shall know to-morrow. We
+did not go into everything to-day. Brennan only reported certain matters
+of official routine."
+
+"Well, well. I should have thought he would have given you all the news
+seeing how long you have been away, and knowing how anxious you would be
+to have the latest tidings. Did he say at all how the old curmudgeon
+was? Is Mrs. Eustace still dancing attendance on him, and making herself
+a public martyr to cover up the tracks of her levanting husband?"
+
+"I believe Mr. Dudgeon is practically well again--the doctor could have
+told you about that."
+
+"Oh, he did, but I wondered whether you had other news. Sure it's not
+always a doctor's word that is worth considering. They lie almost as
+well as lawyers--or the police."
+
+"To whom you come for verification."
+
+"Now, that's just like me, giving away my own private opinion of you
+without the asking. But there! Did you ever hear the reason why the old
+man hated so much to let me buy this place? The doctor was telling me.
+He said the old man was never done telling him and Mrs. Eustace all
+about it. It's the funniest story ever you heard. Do you know it?
+
+"Sure I'll tell it to you," she went on, without heeding the absence of
+any reply to her question. "The old man was once in love. You'd hardly
+believe that, would you? But you never know. It's the most unlikely
+people on this earth who are the most like to make fools of themselves
+in that way. You and me and the rest of us, sure we're none of us safe,
+though I will say I'd like to see the woman who could get the blind side
+of one man I've met in these parts. Who he may be is no matter. But
+about old Dudgeon. It's long since he was in love, you must know, but
+when he was it was with a girl who was the daughter of the people who
+owned this station, years and years ago, before you and I were born,
+indeed. Well, the girl wouldn't have him, or preferred someone else,
+which is about the same thing. Kitty Lambton was her name when he was
+after her; it was a man named O'Guire she married to get away from the
+old soured rascal, though he was young at the time, and mayhap a sour
+young man at that. Would you say she was wrong? Would you?"
+
+"I suppose every woman has a right to please herself in such a matter,"
+he replied evasively.
+
+"That's what I say, and it's what poor Kitty did, rest her soul, for she
+is dead now, poor thing."
+
+Her voice dropped to a softer tone suddenly, and she was silent for a
+few seconds; but when she resumed her story the shrill tone, the tone
+which irritated and hurt him, he knew not why, rang out again.
+
+"But the old man would have none of it. He swore all the vengeance he
+could think of against her and hers. He swore no woman should ever set
+foot in this place again. He hounded the father and mother of that
+unfortunate girl to their graves; he chased her and her husband from
+pillar to post, robbing them, swindling them, betraying them until there
+was no place on the face of the earth they could call their own, no, not
+even a stick nor a shred. The devil was good to him--sure he always is
+good to his own. Money came to him by the waggon-load, and ever did he
+use it to hound those two unfortunates down, lower and lower until there
+was no hope nor peace for them, and they wandered outcasts in the sight
+of man and woman. And that's the man, that old double-dyed, heartless
+scoundrel that you police flock to preserve and protect, while the likes
+of Kitty and her husband are forced down and down and down to the lowest
+dregs of life. Is that justice? Is that law? Is that right? Answer me
+that now."
+
+"Probably Mr. Dudgeon coloured his story a good deal when he told it:
+old men usually do when they recount their youthful doings," he said
+quietly. "But, in any case----"
+
+She held out her hand impulsively.
+
+"Wait a moment," she said. "Supposing he did. Supposing the tale is only
+half true; but supposing that he did drive Kitty and her husband to the
+gutter, and suppose they had children--do you think if those children
+knew what that old scoundrel had done they would not be right to pay him
+back in his own coin? Sure I'm glad I was able to make the old vagabond
+eat his own words when I bought the place over his head. He's met one
+woman in the world who has defied him. And do you know what? If I knew
+where any of Kitty Lambton's children were at this moment--or her
+husband, seeing she is dead, poor thing--at least, so the doctor
+said--I'd go to them and say they could have the place free if only they
+would go and taunt that old fiend and fling it in his face and hound him
+down as he hounded down their parents."
+
+"What good would that do either you or them?" he asked.
+
+"Good?"
+
+She sprang out of her chair and stood facing him.
+
+"Don't you know what it is to hate?" she cried. "Is it only Irish blood
+that can boil at rank injustice? Is it only Irish hearts which burn to
+aid the oppressed and torture the oppressors as they tortured their poor
+unfortunate victims? You said you would shoot the man who struck you
+down, shoot him like a dog, if he were escaping your clutches. Don't you
+think Kitty Lambton's children have as great, if not a greater right to
+shoot that bloodless, heartless monster like a dog or a cat or any other
+vermin, if they met him on this earth? I'd tell them to do it; I'd tell
+them to do it if there were no other way to make his last hours more
+full of misery and agony. That's what I'd do, the dirty old traitorous
+villain that he is. Pah!"
+
+She uttered the words with a tigerish pant as she swung on her heels and
+strode away to the end of the verandah, where she stood for a moment
+staring up at the sky, before she returned.
+
+"It's the curse of the Irish to feel the wounds of others as keenly as
+though they were one's own," she said, as she sat down again. "What
+concern is it of mine whether the old fool hoards his money and drives
+lost souls to perdition? I've no right to worry about other people's
+troubles. Sure I have enough of my own. But it just maddened me to think
+of it. Oh, it's the Irish hearts that suffer!"
+
+The harsh vibrant tones had gone; the voice he heard was that of the
+woman who had pleaded earlier in the evening for compassion for the men
+who had injured her.
+
+Impulsively he reached out his hand and touched hers.
+
+"You must not," he said. "You must not heed such tales. You are too
+warm-hearted. The sordid side of life is not for you. We who have to
+come in contact with it, and know it in all its wretched squalor, know
+only too well that rarely, if ever, can one of the high-pitched stories
+of personal wrong be justified. The greater the criminal, the greater
+the protestations of innocence and injustice. Do not be deceived. You,
+who are so full of sympathy and gentleness, you who would not, by your
+own hand, hurt the hair of a man's head, you----"
+
+She sprang up.
+
+"Don't!" she cried. "Don't! You must not--never--never--I told you I
+would not have you speak to me of--I must not hear such things. I----"
+
+He was by her side, his two hands clasping hers.
+
+"Nora, I must. Darling, I love you. I cannot bear to see----"
+
+She pushed him back, flinging her hands free from his grasp, to clasp
+and press them to her bosom as though to still the great heaving gasps
+which made it rise and fall in tumultuous spasms.
+
+"Mr. Durham! You forget!"
+
+Her voice fell like a whip-lash, cold, haughty, stern.
+
+"I forbid you ever to speak to me so again. Good night."
+
+She swept past him and entered the house, closing the door after her.
+
+Hours passed before he could obtain control over his thoughts, before he
+could face the blackness her rejection of his declaration had brought
+upon him. Then he rose and stood staring blankly out over the sombre
+mystery of the bush, long since bereft of the faint glimmer of the
+new-born moon, veiled in shade, silent as the thin wisps of filmy mist
+which floated in the still air along the course of Waroona Creek.
+
+In the morning Mrs. Burke met him without a trace in her voice, face, or
+manner of the resentful indignation she had shown on the previous night.
+She talked, as she had talked on many a morning at the breakfast-table,
+with an uninterrupted flow of chatter, inconsequential, airy, frivolous.
+She met his eyes openly, frankly, without a glimmer to show she noticed
+the lines which furrowed his face. Yet they were so marked that when
+Brennan drove out for him later, he glanced at his superior officer with
+apprehension.
+
+"Do you think you are well enough to return to duty, sir?" he asked.
+"You don't look half so well as you did yesterday, and you were not
+looking too well then. If a few more days' rest----"
+
+"Oh, I'm very fit, Brennan," Durham interrupted. "You had better turn
+the horses out for an hour or so; Mrs. Burke insists on my waiting to
+have lunch before I go."
+
+Mrs. Burke came out to them as they stood talking.
+
+"Oh, Brennan, did you see old Patsy in the town?" she exclaimed.
+
+"Why, he was here this morning," Durham said.
+
+"Excuse me, Mr. Durham, he was not. You remember what I told you last
+night. I did not care to say then, but the old man was very strange in
+his manner before dinner, and I believed he had had drink. I spoke to
+him about it, and I have not seen him since."
+
+"But--who got breakfast ready?" Durham asked sharply.
+
+"I did myself, Mr. Durham."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Burke; why did you not tell me? I could have----"
+
+"An Irish lady, Mr. Durham, does not ask her guests to do her
+housework."
+
+Durham turned away at the sting of her words and voice.
+
+"Did you see the old man in the town, Brennan?" she asked.
+
+"No, Mrs. Burke, he was not in town last night. I should have seen him."
+
+"Oh, dear, then what can have happened to the creature? Sure I wish I
+had left him behind me in Ireland."
+
+"He may be about the place somewhere. Will I look for him?" Brennan
+said.
+
+"He's not about the house; I've looked everywhere," she answered.
+
+"He might be in one of the outhouses or stables."
+
+"I never thought of that," she exclaimed. "Maybe that's where he is. Oh,
+the trouble of the wretched old fool! I'll pack him off back to
+Ireland."
+
+She went into the house and Durham turned to Brennan.
+
+"Have you ever seen him in the town?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, yes, sir. He comes in at night mostly and buys drink, but he never
+stays. Soden told me yesterday the last time he came in he took away
+half a gallon of rum with him. Maybe that's the cause of his
+disappearance."
+
+"We'll look for him," Durham said shortly.
+
+In an outlying tool-shed they found him, stretched out on a tumbled heap
+of old sacks and rubbish, the place reeking with the scent of rum and a
+half-gallon jar lying on its side near him, empty.
+
+"He's dead to the world for a day," Brennan said as he stood up after
+bending over the old man and trying to rouse him. "He must have been
+drinking steadily for days to get through that quantity and into this
+state. What are we to do with him, sir?"
+
+"If Mrs. Burke will give him in charge we will take him to the station
+and lock him up, but we cannot take him otherwise. He's on her private
+property."
+
+"That settles it then," Brennan replied. "She's Irish, sir. You know
+what that means."
+
+His anticipation was correct. Mrs. Burke refused point-blank to allow
+her helpless retainer to be touched. He could remain where he was, she
+said, and she hoped the snakes and the lizards and the mosquitoes and
+all the other fearsome things she could mention would come and devour
+him--but the police were not going to touch him.
+
+She was equally hostile when Durham suggested they should start off for
+the town without giving her the trouble of preparing anything for them
+to eat. In fact, he could not now open his lips to her that she did not
+snap some biting retort at him.
+
+"She'd set the dogs on you if she were in her own country, sir,"
+Brennan remarked, when at last they drove away from the house with a
+final envenomed shaft ringing in their ears. "I don't think the old man
+is the only one who has a taste for the drink, if you ask me, sir."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE LAST STRAW
+
+
+Since Mrs. Eustace returned to the township Harding had never once been
+to see her nor, when passing the house, had he glanced at it.
+
+His attitude was inexplicable to her. That she had not had even a word
+from him while she was at Taloona perplexed her, for it did not occur to
+her to question whether he had received the message she left with Bessie
+for him. Yet there were several reasons which might account for that
+omission. But his failure either to see or to communicate with her after
+her return to Waroona was entirely another matter.
+
+When the third day came without a sign or word from him she took the
+bull by the horns and sent a note asking him to see her that evening.
+
+She was waiting for him in her sitting-room when she heard him come to
+the door, heard him ask Bessie if she were at home, heard him approach
+the room. As he opened the door she rose to greet him. He stopped on the
+threshold.
+
+"I received your note--you wish to see me?" he said stiffly.
+
+"Fred!" she exclaimed, looking at him in amazement. "Why, what has
+happened? Why do you speak so? What is it?"
+
+He remained where he was, silent.
+
+"Don't you wish to see me?" she asked, still regarding him with a look
+of wondering amazement. "Has anything happened? Is that the reason you
+have never been to see me since I came back--why you never sent a word
+to me at Taloona? Have they--have they found out anything more about
+Charlie?"
+
+He closed the door and walked across to the table by the side of which
+she was standing.
+
+"Mrs. Eustace," he began, but before he could say more she interrupted
+him.
+
+"You have something unpleasant to say. What is it? At least be frank.
+Whatever it is I am prepared to hear it."
+
+He took the letter from his pocket.
+
+"This came into my possession the night we were at Taloona," he said
+slowly. "I should have returned it to you at once, but it slipped my
+memory until after you had gone. Then, accidentally, unthinkingly, I
+came to read it. I--I wish to hear what you have to say about it. I wish
+to know----" The sentences he had so carefully thought out fled from his
+brain before the calm, steadfast look with which she was regarding him.
+"Do you recognise it?" he asked abruptly.
+
+He held out the cover to her, turning it over so that she could see both
+sides.
+
+"It is one of the Bank envelopes; I don't recognise anything else," she
+replied.
+
+Taking the letter from the cover, he spread it open and held it out.
+
+"Now do you know it?"
+
+"Charlie's writing!"
+
+Her eyes, after one rapid glance at it, were raised to his.
+
+"You recognise it?"
+
+"I recognise the writing, yes. It is his. Do you wish me to read it?"
+
+"If you have not already done so."
+
+She took the letter from him. As she read the first sentence she raised
+her eyes, filled with piteous anguish, to his.
+
+"Oh, Fred!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what is this? Where did you get it?"
+
+Without waiting for an answer she looked at it again. Her face went as
+white as the paper, a violent fit of trembling seized her, and she sank
+to her knees beside the table, burying her head on her arms.
+
+"Oh, Fred! Fred! Why--why did you let me see it?" she moaned.
+
+"Is it not yours?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
+
+"Mine?"
+
+She was on her feet, facing him, with eyes that blazed through the tears
+which filled them.
+
+"You believed that? You believed I had this when--that I had read it
+when we were at Taloona? You believed that?"
+
+"It was given to me by one of the troopers, who picked it up where you
+had been kneeling when you attended to Durham's wound. The man said it
+was either yours or mine. I knew it was not mine, so I took it to give
+it to you. I should have given it at once, but I forgot it at the
+moment. When I read it----"
+
+"Go on," she said in a hard voice as he paused.
+
+"When I read it I----"
+
+Her eyes disconcerted him; he could not bring himself to say to her face
+he suspected her.
+
+"When you read it--you believed it was mine," she said steadily.
+
+"For the moment, yes; I had no alternative. Then--later--I was
+uncertain."
+
+"Uncertain of what?"
+
+"Uncertain whether it was yours. At first I intended to hand it over to
+Brennan, as Durham was too ill to understand. Of course, that would have
+made it public, and you--well, you would have been suspected, at the
+least, of complicity in the robbery. I could not believe that of
+you--could not, even with this in my possession. I came back to Waroona
+in the morning intending to see you and hear what explanation you had to
+offer before taking any further steps. But you were not at the bank, and
+when I got there I was done up."
+
+The steady look in her eyes never changed.
+
+"Go on," she repeated.
+
+"I ask you now--what explanation have you to offer?"
+
+"Please finish your story first," she replied. "Then I will tell you
+mine."
+
+"I have little to add. I could not bring myself to give up the letter
+until I was sure it was really yours. Lest anyone else should see it, I
+hid it where no one could find it. But when I came down from my room
+again, Mr. Wallace told me you had been in and had gone back to Taloona.
+So I kept it until I could be sure."
+
+"Sure of what?"
+
+"Whether--you had had it."
+
+She laid it on the table in front of him.
+
+"Take it," she said. "Do what you will with it. I am sorry you showed it
+to me. I would rather not have seen it. How it came where it was found I
+do not know. Until to-night I did not know it existed."
+
+She met his glance openly, frankly, proudly.
+
+"And you believed it was mine!" she added.
+
+"I had no alternative--until I saw you," he answered.
+
+"You have had that letter for weeks; I have been here three days. Yet
+you only come to me now--when I have asked you to come."
+
+"I dared not see you--lest----"
+
+"Lest you discovered me to be even a greater traitress than you had
+already learned me to be," she said in measured tones. "I cannot blame
+you. The fault was mine. I have given you ample reason why your faith in
+me should have ended."
+
+"That is not true," he exclaimed. "I could not bring myself to believe
+you had acted so. But it was horrible enough as it was. It was because I
+had not lost faith in you that I hid the letter so as to prevent anyone
+else seeing it. By doing so I was not acting as I should have acted
+towards the Bank."
+
+"I never had it, never. I wish I had not seen it, for it"--her voice
+lost its hardness as she spoke--"it is the last straw. Whatever else I
+knew my husband to be, I held him innocent of that crime. When you and
+all the others suspected him, I would not, could not bring myself to
+believe it. But now----"
+
+Her voice caught and she turned aside, sinking into a chair where she
+sat with averted face and bowed head.
+
+"No wonder you did not wish to see me again," she added presently, as he
+did not speak. "What am I now? The wife of a thief, an outlaw, one who
+was almost a murderer. Oh, leave me! I should not have sent to you.
+Leave me. There is nothing for me now but death or degradation."
+
+"You must not say that, Jess, you must not say that," he said in a
+strained voice as he came and stood beside her. "Whatever he may have
+done, you are not affected by it. Appearances cannot well be blacker
+against him than they are at present, but you must still remember you
+are not responsible for his ill-deeds. No one here, least of all myself,
+blames you. Besides, he has not yet been convicted."
+
+"Not after that letter? There can be no doubt after that. He must have
+had it with him when he was at Taloona, and dropped it."
+
+"But it was opened, torn open, when the trooper found it. If Eustace had
+dropped it, surely it would have been sealed up."
+
+She glanced at him quickly.
+
+"Do you still suspect me?" she exclaimed.
+
+"I should not be here if I did," he answered quietly.
+
+"Oh, I don't know what to think," she said. "I would rather you had come
+to tell me he was dead than to show me that hideous thing. Better if he
+were dead, far, far better, than that he should live to end his days on
+the gallows or in gaol."
+
+She was voicing his own thought, a thought which had been with him for
+many days.
+
+"It was because something of this kind might happen I wanted you to go
+away," he said.
+
+"I know. I understand that. But I told you--told you why I could not
+go."
+
+She spoke scarcely above a whisper, with her head bent over her clasped
+hands as though she feared he might see her face.
+
+"But the reason you gave no longer exists. Will you go now? Will you go
+and leave all this wretched strain and worry behind you?"
+
+"I dare not. It would drive me to perdition. You don't know how a woman
+thinks. So long as she has someone near her whom she knows has respect
+for her, she will fight against the temptation to drown all her sorrows
+in one reckless plunge. When that one is no longer near her, no longer
+her stronghold, then--what has she to live for?"
+
+"You have the respect of all who know you."
+
+She pressed her clasped hands to her lips to stop their quivering.
+
+"No, Fred, no. I must stay. I could not bear to go. A man can think for
+the future; a woman lives only in the present. You, a man, cannot
+understand that. You would say I should go away, and in a few months or
+a year or so everything would have blown over. That would be all right
+for a man, but not for a woman. It is while the affair is blowing over
+that she is in the greatest danger. It is then she wants sustaining. She
+is only conscious of the precipice at her feet. Left to herself she must
+lean over, nearer and nearer to the edge until she falls.
+
+"That is the road to ruin thousands of women tread," she went on. "It
+would have been the road I should have gone but for you. The knowledge
+that despite all I have done to merit your scorn, you still hold to the
+love you gave me in the happier days, is the rock to which I have clung.
+Had you acted differently, I should have gone--gone from here, gone from
+everything, gone out into the world and lost myself under the weight of
+the disgrace which had come upon me. People would say I have no right to
+tell you this, that I am false to my sex in doing so. They don't know.
+It is easy to theorise when one is not in danger. I tell you because I
+trust you and know I can trust you. It is such men as you who save
+women, save them from themselves, as it is such men as Charlie who ruin
+them--as he ruined me."
+
+With her face still averted from him she ceased, and he also was silent,
+not trusting himself to speak.
+
+"That is why I must stay here. The mere fact of being near you gives me
+strength. If you are going away, then I will go also, for Waroona would
+then be impossible for me. But not till then, Fred, not till then. I
+only want to know you are here, only to see you sometimes. Do not deny
+me that."
+
+"You know I will not deny you anything that will help you in facing your
+difficulties, Jess," he answered.
+
+"Yes, I know," she said. "I could never have come through what I have if
+I had not always known it.
+
+"Will you have to go when the new manager comes?" she asked presently.
+
+"The new manager is here," he answered.
+
+"Here? Why, when did he arrive? I did not hear of it. Did they keep it
+from me on purpose? Mr. Gale was in this morning, but he said nothing
+about it."
+
+"He probably did not know at the time. I told him this afternoon."
+
+"What is his name? Is it anyone I know, or who knew Charlie?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+She faced round quickly.
+
+"Fred--you?"
+
+"Yes," he answered.
+
+"Oh, I am pleased," she began impulsively. Then she stopped. "That was
+why you did not come sooner," she added.
+
+"Yes," he replied. "Mr. Wallace told me three days ago it was to be, and
+I thought it better not to call immediately you returned."
+
+She had risen with her hand outstretched to him, but, before she could
+speak, a knock at the front door interrupted her.
+
+"Is Mr. Harding here?" they heard Durham's voice ask when Bessie went to
+the door.
+
+"Tell him I wish to see him at once," he added.
+
+She went to the door of the room.
+
+"Ask Mr. Durham to come in," she called out. "I am glad to see you out
+again," she added as Durham came forward. "Mr. Harding is in here. Will
+you come in?"
+
+He followed her into the room without speaking, his face so stern that a
+tremor of fear ran through her.
+
+"Will you give me a few minutes alone with Mr. Harding, please, Mrs.
+Eustace?" he began, when his keen eyes caught sight of the open letter
+lying on the table.
+
+He sprang forward and picked it up.
+
+"How did this come here?" he cried, looking from one to the other.
+
+"I brought it," Harding answered. "One of the troopers found it at
+Taloona and thought Mrs. Eustace or I had dropped it when attending to
+you."
+
+"It must have fallen from my pocket," Durham said as he folded it up.
+
+Mrs. Eustace was looking at him with anxious eyes.
+
+"Will you tell me--where you--got it?" she asked hesitatingly.
+
+"I found it--in the bush, lying unopened on the ground. By the marks on
+the ground someone had evidently been thrown from his horse, and this, I
+assume, had fallen from his pocket."
+
+"Was it--near the bank?"
+
+"No, Mrs. Eustace, it was in the bush miles away."
+
+She gave a deep sigh of relief.
+
+"Will you leave us for a few minutes now, if you please?" he repeated.
+
+She inclined her head and went from the room.
+
+As soon as the door was closed, Durham turned to Harding.
+
+"I went to the bank for you," he said, "to ask you to come here. I am
+glad you are here already. I have an unpleasant task to perform. Will
+you give me your assistance?"
+
+"Certainly," Harding answered. "What is it you wish me to do?"
+
+"I wish you would do it altogether. It will be easier for her if you
+tell her, than if I do."
+
+"Eustace is arrested?" Harding exclaimed in an excited whisper.
+
+"Eustace is dead," Durham replied in the same tone.
+
+Harding started as though he had been struck.
+
+"How? When?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Brennan and I found him, as we were returning from Waroona Downs this
+evening. He was lying on his face in the creek where it crosses the road
+in the range. He was drenched with water from head to foot, but the
+water at the ford is barely six inches deep. There were no footprints on
+the track either side of the ford to show how he had entered the water.
+He was shot in the back, the bullet having passed through his right
+lung, coming out at his chest. His wrists were bruised and chafed as
+though he had been tightly bound and had struggled to escape. The only
+thing found on him was this."
+
+He produced a handkerchief with two round holes burned in the centre.
+
+"It was such a handkerchief one of the men who stuck up Taloona was
+wearing," he added.
+
+"Where is he now?" Harding asked.
+
+"We brought him in and took him over to the police-station. It is for
+Mrs. Eustace, of course, to say what is to be done about the funeral.
+Will you break the news to her by yourself, or shall I do it?"
+
+"You have told Mr. Wallace?"
+
+"Yes. He suggested I should see you. The news upset him very much."
+
+"It will be better if I see her alone, I think."
+
+"I think so too. Not that I want to put the burden upon you, but coming
+from me----" he shrugged his shoulders. "I will leave you then, and ask
+her to come in."
+
+Harding met her at the door. Closing it behind her, he took her hand and
+led her to the chair where she had been sitting before Durham arrived.
+
+"Jess," he said softly, as he stood by her, still holding her hand, "I
+have sad news to tell you."
+
+Her fingers closed tighter upon his, but beyond that she made no sign.
+
+"Durham asked me to tell you."
+
+"Charlie," she said in a tense whisper. "It is about him. He is----"
+
+A shudder went through her and her voice broke.
+
+He placed his other hand upon hers gently.
+
+"He is gone, Jess."
+
+She rose to her feet with a gasp, clutching his arm.
+
+"Not dead!"
+
+"Yes, Jess."
+
+Her hands fell to her sides, limply, nervelessly; her lips parted, but
+no sound came from them; for a second she stood motionless.
+
+He took her hand again and rested his arm upon her shoulder, fearing she
+would fall.
+
+"Dead!"
+
+The word came in a low whisper, but the parted lips did not move nor the
+staring eyes change.
+
+"My poor, poor Jess," he whispered.
+
+"Oh, Fred!"
+
+A great wavering sigh escaped her, a sigh that ended in a sob,
+plaintive, wailing, sad. But still her eyes stared blankly.
+
+"Sit down, Jess," he said softly.
+
+"No, no. Let me stand. Let me--I want to face it. Don't leave me, Fred,
+don't leave me."
+
+She swayed, and the staring eyes closed. He slipped his arm round her
+waist to support her and at the touch she came forward, flinging her
+arms round him as her head drooped upon his shoulder and she burst into
+a fit of wild, tempestuous weeping.
+
+So he held her, his head bent upon hers, his arms supporting her. Not
+until the storm of sobs had abated did he speak.
+
+"Sit down, now, Jess. You will be better resting," he whispered.
+
+"No, no," she answered. "No, no. Let me stay--a moment."
+
+A hum of voices came from the road outside, for the news, flying through
+the town, brought everybody out to tell and hear.
+
+With one accord they gathered round the police-station, which was almost
+opposite the cottage, and stood in the road discussing the latest phase
+of the mystery, the phase which brought into it the note of tragedy.
+Then someone remembered the cottage and who was in it, and passed the
+word along. The loud voices were hushed as the men, actuated by the
+rough sympathy of the bush, quietly moved away so that the sound of
+their voices should not reach the woman on whom a fresh blow had fallen.
+
+Bessie, hearing the noise, went out to ascertain the cause. Hearing what
+the news was, she rushed back into the cottage and precipitately burst
+into the sitting-room. As she opened the door, Harding signed to her to
+keep quiet.
+
+"Here is Bessie, Jess. Will you stay with her?" he said.
+
+She drew away from him slowly.
+
+"No, don't go yet," she answered. "Tell me everything. I can hear it
+now."
+
+Bessie slipped out of the room and softly closed the door after her.
+
+Mrs. Eustace took the chair Harding placed for her and he sat down by
+her.
+
+"Who--did it?" she asked.
+
+"No one knows yet," he answered.
+
+She looked at him quickly.
+
+"Do they think--it was--himself?"
+
+"No; it could not have been."
+
+"I am glad of that," she said. "I have always feared he would. Then
+there could have been no doubt. Was he found?"
+
+"Yes. Durham was driving in from Waroona Downs with Brennan. They found
+him in the water where the creek crosses the road in the range."
+
+"Drowned?" she asked wonderingly.
+
+"No, not drowned; he had been shot."
+
+She shuddered and gripped his hand.
+
+"They did not----" she began brokenly. "They--it was not because he
+was--escaping?"
+
+"They found him," he said gently. "He was lying in the water--the shot
+had been fired from behind him."
+
+For a time she sat silent, still holding his hand firmly.
+
+"Where is he now?" she asked presently.
+
+"They brought him in and Durham came across to tell you. Will you----"
+
+"No, no. Oh, no," she interrupted as she shuddered and hid her face in
+her hands.
+
+Presently she raised her eyes to his.
+
+"It is better so," she said. "They may find out now that he was
+innocent; they would have condemned him had he been taken alive."
+
+He laid a hand on hers without speaking.
+
+With a quick gesture she raised it to her lips.
+
+"Oh, Fred, what a friend you have been to me!" she murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE RIDER'S SCORN
+
+
+Late into the night the townsfolk of Waroona stood in knots and groups
+in the roadway discussing the mystery surrounding the death of Eustace.
+
+Until the closing hour compelled the hotelkeepers to turn their
+customers out, the bars were crowded and a roaring trade was done, all
+the loose cash in the place passing into the tills which were full to
+overflowing.
+
+Everyone had a theory, which differed from that of everyone else, but as
+one after the other told his particular views on the question and heard
+them criticised and discussed, and heard also the views of others, there
+was a rapid falling off in individual opinions and a tendency to
+concentrate on one or two which withstood the test of criticism the
+best.
+
+On one point there was unanimity of opinion. Eustace and the man with
+the yellow beard had been in league. They had robbed the bank together,
+Eustace having drugged the other inmates so that there should be no
+chance of the work being disturbed.
+
+Eustace had also participated in the robbery and outrage at Taloona. He
+it was, the townsmen decided, who had his face hidden by the
+handkerchief mask. The indifference of his companion whether his face
+was seen or not suggested to them a stranger, one who was not known in
+the district, but who had come there for the purpose of carrying out the
+robbery of the bank.
+
+When the first sum of twenty-five thousand was so successfully secured,
+Eustace would know that the Bank, for its own protection, would have to
+hurry forward another similar sum to meet the obligation of its client.
+He would know that old Dudgeon would refuse to leave it in charge of the
+Bank, and would decline any police protection even if it were offered.
+Therefore, the crowd argued, he and his companion had waited until they
+could make a dash for that second sum.
+
+So far the events as they knew them corroborated their views. There had
+been the attack on Taloona; the second sum of money had been stolen and
+the rough treatment meted out both to old Dudgeon and the sub-inspector
+showed that the two outlaws were men who were prepared to play a
+desperate game to preserve their liberty and booty.
+
+It was this desperation which gave the most popular clue to the solution
+of the mystery surrounding the death of Eustace.
+
+The money, fifty thousand pounds in all, had been safely carried off to
+the hiding-place the robbers had chosen. In addition to the money there
+were other articles, and over the division of this spoil there had been
+a quarrel. Eustace had gone down, probably taken unawares, seeing that
+he had been shot in the back. Little as anyone sympathised with him in
+the course he had followed, there was a feeling of resentment against
+his companion for having obviously taken a mean advantage over the man
+who had thrown in his lot with him. A quarrel was possible at any time,
+even so deadly a quarrel as would result fatally for one or other of the
+combatants; but at least it should have been fairly conducted.
+
+Thereafter the completion of the story was easy.
+
+The victor had emptied his victim's pockets of everything except the
+incriminating handkerchief--leaving that, perchance, to fasten upon him
+a part responsibility of the Taloona outrage; had taken the body on his
+horse and ridden with it to the ford, dropping it in the middle of the
+stream where it was bound to be discovered by the first person passing
+that way.
+
+There was a callousness, a cynical indifference to all human instincts
+in this method of disposing of his victim, which deepened the feeling of
+resentment against the assassin who everyone held to be the unknown man
+with the yellow beard. To have left the body where it fell would have
+been less brutal than to flaunt it in the face of police and public as a
+taunt and a mockery. Following the outburst of amazement which the
+discovery had aroused, there came a sense of bitter hostility against
+the man who had done this, to their minds, needless act of savagery.
+
+As Brennan passed to and fro he was assailed with questions as to what
+the sub-inspector was going to do. Volunteers on all sides offered
+their services to scour the range, where all believed the murderer was
+hiding, and ride him down. But Brennan would say nothing. The
+sub-inspector had barely spoken since he returned to the station; but if
+he wanted help he would not hesitate to appeal for it, Brennan told
+them, adding that they need not worry--the criminal who could outwit the
+sleuth-hound of the force was not yet born.
+
+"But the Rider of Waroona is no fool," one of the men remarked.
+
+"Neither is Sub-Inspector Durham," Brennan retorted.
+
+Gale, who was standing in the group listening to the remarks made, but
+advancing no theory of his own, spoke out for the first time.
+
+"I'm not so sure," he said. "He may be smart enough in following up town
+robberies, but he hasn't done much here yet. Twice he has come in
+contact with the pair, and each time they have got ahead of him. He
+stops everyone else from doing anything. I offered to go out with a
+dozen men and scour the range, but he wouldn't hear of it--that was
+before he was cornered at Taloona."
+
+"Don't you worry," Brennan replied. "The sub-inspector knows what he is
+doing."
+
+He passed away from the group and the men turned to Gale.
+
+"That's what I don't follow," one of them said. "The chap must be hiding
+somewhere with that white horse of his. Why not scour the range for
+him?"
+
+"Brennan told me he didn't believe there was a white horse--that it was
+all a yarn," another exclaimed.
+
+"Well, I saw it," Gale retorted. "I saw it on the Taloona road. I'd have
+gone after it only I was in a buggy and it vanished into the bush."
+
+"Is the range the only place you'd look, Mr. Gale?" one of the men
+asked.
+
+"No," Gale replied. "I'd look there first, and then I'd go the other
+way."
+
+"Taloona way?"
+
+"Well, not far off."
+
+"That's what I think," the man went on. "Old Crotchety takes the loss of
+his money too quietly to please me. He's a pretty fly old chap and does
+not stop at a trifle to get his own back."
+
+"Like he did when he fired you out, Davy," someone exclaimed, and there
+was a general laugh, for the story of how Davy had been sent about his
+business at a moment's notice by Dudgeon was one of the stock anecdotes
+of the district.
+
+"Oh, that's as it may be," Davy retorted, "but I know too much about the
+old man to trust him very far."
+
+"Do you think he's the Rider?" Gale exclaimed.
+
+"No, but he may know who the Rider is--there are plenty of men who'd do
+the job for a round sum down."
+
+"But how about Eustace?"
+
+"Oh, well, that would be a bit of luck to get him to join. They may have
+thrown him over when he was no more use to them, and then there may
+have been a row and somebody's gun may have gone off a bit too soon.
+You never know. But anyhow, I'm with you when you say things look as if
+they are getting too much for the police to handle."
+
+"That's all very fine, Davy, but what I'd like to know is why the old
+man got shot? Did he pay a man to do that?"
+
+"Of course he didn't," Davy exclaimed. "I had a yarn with one of the
+troopers about that. He told me what the sub-inspector said in his
+report. Maybe that's something you don't know."
+
+It was, and the attention of the group concentrated on Davy, much to his
+satisfaction.
+
+"Go on, let's have the yarn," someone said impatiently, and there was a
+chorus of assent from the others.
+
+"This is what happened," Davy went on. "The Rider and his mate--Eustace,
+as I believe--came into the hut to settle the sub-inspector. As a blind
+they put handcuffs on the old man and were going to do the same with
+Durham when he, finding himself cornered again, made a fight for it. One
+of the chaps fired, meaning to finish him, but missed and hit the old
+man instead. Then, in the fight, the lamp was upset and the place in a
+blaze. Durham got a crack on the head and staggered outside, and before
+the others could get the old man out of the place the troopers arrived,
+and they had to bolt to save their own skins. That is pretty much what
+Conlon told me was in the sub-inspector's report. It was after hearing
+it I suspected the old chap."
+
+The group was silent as Davy ceased.
+
+"You've got the bulge on us this time," one of them remarked presently.
+"Why didn't you tell the yarn before?"
+
+"Because it was told to me in confidence--I knew Conlon years ago in the
+South. But now this other thing's happened it makes all the difference,
+doesn't it?"
+
+"But how about the money, Davy?" Gale asked. "That had gone, you know; I
+saw the place where it had been dug up."
+
+"Did you? You saw a hole in the ground; but how do you know the money
+was ever in it? And how could two chaps carry away a lot of loose bags
+of money on horseback?"
+
+"That's so," one of the group cried. "I reckon Davy's on the right track
+this time."
+
+"Anyway, so far as the money is concerned, only those who can afford to
+lose have been robbed. It won't break the Bank and old Dudgeon can stand
+it," Gale observed.
+
+"But there's murder in the case now. That counts more than money. It
+means hanging for someone," Davy replied.
+
+"Or ought to--if the police can catch him," Gale said, as he left the
+group and went on to Soden's bar, where he found Allnut and Johnson
+carrying on an animated discussion with the hotelkeeper on the one
+topic.
+
+"Have you heard the latest?" he inquired as he joined them.
+
+"What's that? A clue? Have the police got a clue?" Soden exclaimed.
+
+"There's a clue--of a sort, but the police haven't got it. Davy Freeman
+has been giving us a new theory. He says old Dudgeon's at the back of it
+all."
+
+"I'm not sure he's far wrong, Mr. Gale, to tell you the truth," Soden
+said in his slow manner. "They say funny things about the old man,
+especially those who were here in the early days."
+
+"What's Freeman's yarn?" Allnut asked.
+
+By the time Gale had repeated the story his audience had grown, and the
+waning interest in the subject was revived as the theory was passed from
+one to the other until it spread through all the groups and was debated
+and discussed from every possible and impossible standpoint. When the
+hour arrived for closing the bars the men clustered in the road, still
+wrestling with the problem.
+
+The night wore on and the young moon was sinking to the west before they
+began to knock the ashes out of their pipes, preparatory to adjourning
+the open-air parliament until the following day. One man was still
+pouring out his views and opinions and the others crowded round him,
+their own energies spent, but listening listlessly before they
+separated.
+
+Suddenly the sound of a horse galloping wildly startled them. With one
+accord they turned towards the direction whence the sound came.
+
+In the faint half-light, right in the middle of the road, racing with
+maddened speed, charging straight upon them, they saw a white horse with
+a bearded rider.
+
+To the right and left they scattered to get clear of the flying hoofs as
+through the midst of them, with a mocking shout and a wave of his hand,
+there flashed past the man with the yellow beard.
+
+A howl of execration and wrath broke from their lips. Those who had gone
+to their homes rushed out. Brennan, with Durham at his heels, dashed
+from the station.
+
+"The Rider! The Rider!" came in a chorus of hoarse shouts. "After him,
+lads, after him."
+
+There was a scatter and scamper as men fled for their horses.
+Barebacked, many with the bridle scarcely secure, all without weapons,
+the men of Waroona raced pell-mell down the road.
+
+Behind them, armed and orderly, Durham and his constable spurred their
+horses in pursuit.
+
+"The fools! They'll help him to escape," Durham cried as they came in
+sight of the confused rabble racing along the road.
+
+Ahead of the charging mob the road for a hundred yards showed clear as
+it topped a slight ascent. A belt of scrub a quarter of a mile through
+intervened between the mob and the open stretch of road. But from where
+Durham and Brennan were the view was uninterrupted.
+
+The white horse and its rider were half-way to the top.
+
+Acting with one impulse, both raised their carbines and fired from the
+saddle. The noise of the reports echoed through the still air and made
+the men in the scrub below rein in their horses to listen. As the smoke
+drifted clear Durham and Brennan saw, on the summit of the rise, the
+white horse prancing, riderless.
+
+Reloading as they rode, they dug their spurs home and raced through the
+patch of scrub. The men heard them coming, and waited, the lack of a
+leader making them undecided how to act. They made way for the two
+police, closing in behind them and pressing up to learn what had
+happened.
+
+"He's down. Keep back," Brennan called to them over his shoulder, and
+they slowed their horses until Durham and the constable rode twenty
+yards in front.
+
+Through the shadow of the scrub the two galloped side by side, each with
+his carbine resting on his hip ready for instant use. The road was soft
+and sandy and the beat of the horses' hoofs was muffled.
+
+With a sharp turn the road was clear of the scrub, and the open stretch
+rising to the top of the hill lay before them. In the centre one small
+dark object was on the ground, but there was no sign of the man they
+expected to see.
+
+Reining in as they came up to the small object, they saw it was an
+ordinary bushman's slouch hat. In the roadway, close to it, two long
+furrows were scored, while at irregular intervals up the rise flecks of
+blood glistened.
+
+Durham leaped from his saddle and picked up the hat. On the lining was
+stamped the name of the chief Waroona storekeeper, Allnut.
+
+"He's a local man," Durham said quickly. "Keep those fools back."
+
+While Brennan checked the charging crowd, now racing up the slope,
+Durham went forward alone. On the sandy roadway the marks made by the
+prancing horse were clearly visible to the top of the hill. The animal
+had evidently been badly frightened and had reared and plunged from one
+side of the road to the other, but nowhere was there such a mark as he
+knew must have been made had the rider fallen. Nor had the horse plunged
+as a riderless animal, but as one straining against a tight-held rein.
+
+At the top of the hill the marks showed down the other slope until the
+horse had reached a point where it would no longer be visible from the
+spot he and Brennan had been when they fired. There the track gradually
+approached the edge of the road and vanished on to the rough ground.
+
+Durham sprang out of the saddle and bent over the marks where they left
+the road. The horse had been pulled round and ridden directly into the
+bush. With the last faint rays of the moon dying away it was hopeless
+trying to follow the tracks through the sombre shadow; nothing more
+could be done until daylight to follow where the man had ridden.
+
+He had remounted and was riding back when the remainder of the men came
+up with Brennan.
+
+"The track runs into the bush; there's no hope of following it
+to-night," he cried.
+
+No hope? A dozen voices answered him with a flat contradiction, and past
+him there was a rush of barebacked riders hot on the trail. They
+scattered in a wide-spreading line, riding straight ahead and watching
+only for a gleam of the white horse amid the shadows of the bush.
+
+Durham stood up in his stirrups and shouted to them to come back, but he
+might as well have called to the wind. The fever of the chase was in
+their veins, the reckless dash of the hunter fired by the excitement of
+the greatest of all pursuits, a man-hunt. While this held them, they
+raced, aimlessly, uselessly, but persistently.
+
+Those with cooler heads and better judgment reined in their horses. Gale
+found himself in the midst of an excited throng with whom he was carried
+forward for some distance before he could get free.
+
+"He's right, lads, he's right," he shouted. "There's no chance to follow
+the track till it's daylight. Don't smother it. Come back."
+
+"Chase him to the range, boys, chase him to the range. We'll catch him
+at the rise," yelled one of the men in the lead, and with an answering
+cheer the galloping crowd held on.
+
+Those who had remained on the road were starting to return to the
+township when Gale rode back. Hearing him coming, they waited to see who
+it was.
+
+"They're mad," he cried, as he came up. "If they get near him, he'll
+shoot them as they come, and they'll destroy every sign of his tracks."
+
+"It's done now," Durham exclaimed impatiently. "We'll have to leave
+them; it's no use going after them now."
+
+He turned his horse's head and set off for the township with Brennan at
+his side and the rest trailing after him. At the station he and Brennan
+wheeled their horses into the yard while the others went on to their
+homes.
+
+"I shall be away with the dawn," Durham said, as soon as the horses were
+stabled and they were in their quarters. "It's the old story. That
+fellow has had so much luck up to the present he's lost his head. He
+wants to show us how clever he really is."
+
+"There's not much sense in what he did to-night; anyone in the crowd
+might have had a rifle, and there was no doubt who he was--he carried
+his life in his hands for nothing, it seems to me."
+
+"They always do sooner or later. He's an old hand at the game, or he
+wouldn't be so anxious to let us know he's still in the neighbourhood."
+
+While he was speaking, the door opened and Soden, the hotelkeeper,
+excitedly entered the room.
+
+"Here, come across the road, quick. Come and have a look at it. Hang me
+if this doesn't beat cock-fighting. They've stuck up the pub and cleared
+off with the till and all the takings," he exclaimed.
+
+He led the way to his hotel, the front door of which was open.
+
+"As I found it," he said as he pulled it to until it was ajar. "When we
+closed for the night it was locked and bolted. Look at it."
+
+Durham carefully examined it.
+
+"Opened by an expert burglar," he said quietly.
+
+"No one but a master of the craft could have done it so neatly. Show me
+the till."
+
+Soden led them into the bar. The till, empty, was on the floor; every
+cupboard door was forced and the place in chaos.
+
+As they stood looking at the wreck, voices sounded outside and other men
+trooped in.
+
+"Here, I say," the first-comer cried. "Here's a pretty go. Someone has
+been in my place and cleared every pennypiece out of it and--hullo!" he
+exclaimed as he looked at the state of Soden's bar, one of the show
+places of the town under ordinary conditions. "You seem to have had them
+too, and there's a mob outside, all with the same story."
+
+There was no gainsaying what had happened. While the men of the town
+were out careering after the mysterious Rider, their homes had been
+rifled of everything of value. The town was stripped as clean as though
+a tribe of human locusts had swept through it. Two places only were
+unvisited, the bank and Mrs. Eustace's cottage, in both of which places
+lights had been burning.
+
+Not even the police-station escaped, though not until Durham and Brennan
+returned to it did they realise the fact. What money there was in the
+place had vanished; a watch Brennan had left hanging over his bunk had
+disappeared and, as if to emphasise the visit, the pages of the record
+book were smeared with ink and defaced.
+
+Brennan glanced covertly at his superior who, with a heavy frown on his
+brow, stood scowling at the defaced book.
+
+"Have the revolvers gone?" he asked suddenly.
+
+Brennan turned to the locker where they were kept.
+
+"No, sir, they are here all right. I fancy he must have been disturbed
+before he could finish his work here. None of the cupboards have been
+touched."
+
+"Whom do you suspect?" Durham asked sharply.
+
+Brennan scratched his head and screwed up his face.
+
+"Well, to tell you the plain, honest truth, sir, I'm bothered if I know
+who to suspect. What gets over me is that white horse. No one believed
+the yarn about the buggy and pair of white horses, and no one believed
+the yarn about the men on white horses being seen on the Taloona road.
+But here the chap comes clean through the township riding a horse of a
+colour that isn't known in the district. You can't put a white horse out
+of sight like you can a stray cat, sir. But where do they go when the
+Riders are not on the road? It gets me, sir, I'm free to admit."
+
+"That hat I picked up was bought at the store in the town. That suggests
+someone who has been about the place."
+
+"Well, he might have stolen it. He might have taken it from the bank, or
+Taloona, or it might have been that other poor chap's--out there, I
+mean," he added, nodding towards the shed where Eustace lay.
+
+"He's no bushman," Durham said.
+
+"He rides well enough for one."
+
+"Oh, yes, I admit he rides well enough for one, but many men ride
+besides bushmen. I know neither he nor his partner have any practical
+bush experience. I know that. Just as I know the man who went through
+the town to-night is a burglar who learned his craft in one of the big
+cities of the world. The way that hotel door was opened was one of the
+finest pieces of expert burglary I've ever seen, and there are some
+pretty smart men at the game in our cities."
+
+"He's a pretty daring chap," Brennan remarked, with a touch of
+admiration in his voice.
+
+"He's too daring. That is what puzzles me. With fifty thousand pounds in
+gold and the valuables stolen from the bank, what sense is there in
+dashing through the place as he did to-night and then taking a bigger
+risk by doubling back past us and stealing what at the most can barely
+have been a hundred pounds in all?"
+
+"Do you think he doubled back, sir? Don't you think the dash through the
+town was a trick to draw everyone away so as to leave the way clear for
+a second man to do the burgling?"
+
+"I don't see who the second man could be. The handkerchief shows Eustace
+was the man who was with him at Taloona. I don't think he has another
+man with him now. He is doing it single-handed and seems to be enjoying
+it, too."
+
+"We ought to be able to pick up his tracks in the morning, if he doubled
+back."
+
+"Yes, if those fools have not smothered them. I'll see to that. I'll be
+away with the dawn. Mind you, no one is to know."
+
+"You can be sure of that, sir," Brennan answered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+LOVE'S CONQUEST
+
+
+In the grey half light which is neither night nor day, Durham saddled
+his horse in the station yard.
+
+No one was stirring in the township as he passed slowly along the road,
+but lest there should happen to be anyone who might see him, he turned
+into the bush at the first opening he came to. Only then did he set his
+horse at a faster pace, riding direct for the range to pick up the track
+leading to the hidden pool.
+
+The air was soft and cool, with filmy streaks of vapour floating amid
+the trees. As he cantered along, the mist rose and formed a pearly haze
+overhead into which there came a tinge of pink, dissipating it, before
+the colour could grow into a deeper tone, to reveal the clear sky, blue
+as a sapphire and bright with the first rays of the rising sun.
+
+In long swinging strides his horse carried him easily, and his spirits
+rose above the gloom which had weighed upon him since the evening before
+when, for the third time, he had been foiled by the mysterious Rider.
+
+There had been little sleep for him during the night. Had the discovery
+of Eustace and the raid of the town been the only events of the day he
+might have succeeded in banishing them from his mind sufficiently to
+allow himself to sleep. But there was more than these, disquieting as
+they were, to fill him with restlessness. The way in which Mrs. Burke
+had rebuffed him on the previous evening, the hostility of manner she
+had displayed towards him up to the time he and Brennan left Waroona
+Downs, weighed upon him.
+
+He could not account for the change which had come over her. From the
+time he arrived from Taloona she had always shown kindliness and
+gentleness towards him, even when, during the early days of his
+convalescence, he had been impatient and exacting. Nor could he find a
+reason for the change in the brief profession he had made of his love
+for her. Had that been the cause she would, he argued, have shown it the
+morning after; but she had met him then with the same light-hearted
+raillery with which she had greeted him every morning he had been in her
+house. Only when Brennan arrived on the scene had she suddenly developed
+antagonism.
+
+There must be some other reason for her anger than his declaration of
+love. For hours he had sought for it, cudgelling his brain to discover
+an explanation; but only now, as he cantered along through the bush with
+his spirits rising in harmony with the glories of an Australian dawn,
+did illumination come to him.
+
+"Oh, my love, why have you come so late to me!"
+
+Through the sombre shade of his brooding there flashed the memory of
+the scene when he had heard those words spoken. Like the touch of a
+magic wand the memory changed gloom to sunshine, shadow into light.
+
+It was not because he had professed his love for her that she had been
+displeased; it was because he was going from her, leaving her house,
+parting with her perhaps for all time.
+
+What a fool he had been not to know that earlier. Of course, she had
+repelled him when he had spoken on the previous evening, repelled him,
+not because she resented, but because she, like all of her sex, could
+not yield the truth at the first asking.
+
+Yet why should he have doubted with the memory of that earlier scene in
+his mind? He asked himself the question and answered it frankly.
+
+He doubted for the reason that still he did not know whether that memory
+was of a real scene, or was merely a figment of a delirium-haunted
+brain. If he could be sure, then no more need he doubt; but how was he
+to be sure? There was only one way--only one person in all the world who
+could tell him whether he was right or not--Nora Burke alone could say
+whether he had been dreaming.
+
+Some day he would ask her to tell him, some day, after he had asked and
+compelled her to answer that other question which had now become
+insistent. For the time the mystery of the Rider occupied a second place
+in his thoughts; yet the trend of his mind unconsciously brought it
+again to the front.
+
+The mission on which he had set out was one which might clear away the
+initial obstacle in the pathway of his love; he might locate the
+hiding-place of the Rider; might secure a clue to his identity; might,
+by great good fortune, discover the stolen money.
+
+If he could only do that, if he could only go back to the bank with the
+news that he had recovered the stolen gold, five thousand pounds would
+be his. Then he would be able to go to Mrs. Burke without the feeling,
+unbearable to a man of his temperament, that he, a poor man, was
+aspiring to one who had money, and who might attribute to that money the
+secret of his fascination.
+
+By the time the sun showed above the trees, he was up to the outlying
+spurs of the range and nearing the ridge along which he had previously
+followed the tracks of the two horsemen. With the knowledge he had
+gained how the track turned and twisted, he set his horse to the rising
+ground, and rode steadily and cautiously until he arrived at the summit
+of the steep immediately above where the creek entered the pool.
+
+Below him was the narrow sandy strip running round the edge of the
+water, and even from where he was he could see the marks of the horses'
+hoofs upon it. His glance wandered from the shore over the surface of
+the pool. It was a long sheet of water, more an exaggerated reach in a
+stream than a lake, for except along the sandy margin below him, the
+water everywhere rippled right up to the dense verdure-clad slopes of
+the hills.
+
+A curious discolouration appeared in a streak across the pool at the
+far end. The otherwise clear water was marred by a ledge of rock which
+stretched from one side of the pool to the other and came so near the
+surface as to give a suggestion of muddiness to the water.
+
+Dismounting, he led his horse to a sheltered gully, and securely
+tethered him to a tree. Then, with his carbine on his arm and his
+revolver pouch unfastened, he walked down to the dry bed of the creek
+and followed it to the mouth.
+
+Fresh marks were on the soft ground near the water, coming from the end
+of the pool where the streak of muddy water showed, and passing onwards
+round the pool. He decided to go in the same direction, and for a few
+yards walked along the level before he discovered other hoof-prints,
+equally clear, going the opposite way. The horseman, whoever he might
+be, had both come and gone within the past few hours, but Durham was
+uncertain which way had been the last.
+
+Leaving the level ground he forced a way through the thick herbage
+growing on the bank above and crept forward. As he went he obtained
+through the foliage an occasional glimpse of the track below, until the
+bank rose so steeply and the vegetation became so dense that he had to
+climb higher to move along at all. Presently he came to an easier grade,
+and was able to see once more the margin of the pool, but he was
+surprised to discover that all marks of the horses had ceased.
+
+He crept down to the water. Looking back, he saw that the bank, on the
+top of which he had been, ran out to the water's edge, forming a
+barrier across the track and terminating in a steep bluff jutting out
+into the pool.
+
+Crouching almost to the ground, Durham crawled through the undergrowth
+until he reached the summit of the bluff, and was able to see once more
+the narrow sandy strip which skirted the bank and formed the margin of
+the shore.
+
+Peering through the low-growing shrubs he saw how the bluff fell away in
+a precipitous descent on the other side down to where the narrow strip
+widened out into a level space screened by a clump of bushes reaching
+from the high bank to the water. The whole of this space was trampled
+upon, and it was evident that horsemen had been there frequently and
+recently.
+
+A step forward showed him something more. Right under the bank a dark
+patch showed. It was the mouth of a cave.
+
+He listened intently, but no sound came to him, and he again crept
+forward until he was able to see into the cave. It was low-roofed, and
+formed by rocks which had fallen loosely together, and over which
+vegetable soil had accumulated.
+
+Satisfied it was empty, he advanced boldly towards it. As he pushed
+between the shrubs which grew close up to it, he caught sight of what,
+in the shadow, looked like a crouching man. In a moment his carbine was
+thrown forward and he was about to challenge, when he realised he was
+aiming at a heap of clothes.
+
+He stepped into the cave. The clothes lay in a carelessly thrown heap,
+and with them, half hidden, was a false beard of long yellow hair.
+
+Picking it up, he held it at arm's length. So the Rider was disguised
+after all!
+
+The flimsy thing brought clearly back to him the features of the man as
+he had twice seen him. The close-clipped fair hair, the light sandy
+eyebrows, the peculiarly light lashes which gave so sinister an
+expression to the eyes, were distinct; but when he tried to reconstruct
+the face as it would be without the beard, he was baffled. The form of
+the nose, the moulding of the chin, the shape of the mouth, had been
+hidden by the disguise, and without a knowledge of them Durham could not
+grasp fully what the man was like. As Harding had expressed himself,
+when describing the face he had seen at the window of the bank, it was
+the impression of a familiar face disguised, and yet a familiar face
+which could not be located.
+
+Beyond that he could not go.
+
+He picked up the clothes and examined them. They were of nondescript
+grey, such as can be bought by the hundred at any bush store in
+Australia, and were similar to what the man was wearing the night he
+visited Waroona Downs. The hat was missing, as Durham expected it would
+be. The pockets were empty.
+
+Replacing the articles as nearly as possible in the position in which he
+found them, Durham turned his attention to the cave itself.
+
+The floor was rough and uneven. What sand clustered in the hollows was
+too much trampled upon to reveal any detail of the feet that had walked
+upon it.
+
+There were innumerable nooks and crannies where articles could be
+stored, but in every instance they contained nothing. Nowhere could he
+find anything more than the clothes.
+
+He went to the mouth and stood peering round to see if there was another
+similar cave near, but everywhere else the ground rose solid and
+unbroken.
+
+In the open space under the shelter of the bluff where the ground had
+been so much trampled by horses, the wheel-marks of a vehicle also
+showed. He walked over and examined them carefully.
+
+They were the marks of what was evidently an old and rackety conveyance.
+One of the wheels was loose and askew on the axle, with the result that
+it made a wobbly mark on the ground, while the tyres on all the wheels
+were uneven in width and badly worn.
+
+"Almost as ancient as old Dudgeon's rattle-trap," Durham said to himself
+as he looked at the marks.
+
+The story, fanciful as he had regarded it at the time, of the buggy
+driven by two men with a pair of white horses, the story told by the
+travelling bushmen the day the bank robbery was discovered, recurred to
+him. If this was the vehicle in which the gold had been carried off, and
+the wheel-marks he was looking at had been made by it, then that gold
+was probably secreted somewhere in his immediate vicinity.
+
+The thick-growing shrubs and stunted gums made it difficult for him to
+see far from where he stood. The level stretch along the margin of the
+pool showed clear enough, but around him the vegetation was so dense
+that, unless he had some clue to guide him, to prosecute a search within
+it was like trying the proverbial search for a needle in a haystack.
+
+During the time that had elapsed since those wheel-marks had been made
+they had been greatly obliterated, but it was still possible to
+distinguish where the vehicle had been stopped, for the horses had
+turned suddenly, and the wheels cut deep as they came round. He stepped
+to the spot. Later tramplings had removed all clear traces of footmarks.
+Nothing was now to be learned from that source.
+
+His eyes swept along the line of shrubs which fringed the open space. A
+twig, snapped near the stem, dangled, its leaves brown and withered. It
+was a finger pointing where someone had forced a way through.
+
+Durham went down on his knees beside the shrub. Near the root the bark
+had been stripped for a couple of inches, the scar showing brown, while
+in the soil the impression of a heavy boot was just distinguishable.
+
+On hands and knees he pushed his way between the stems. Other footmarks,
+old and faint, showed, and he crept along with his eyes on them. Some
+weeks before there had evidently been much coming and going through the
+scrub at this point. Looking straight ahead he saw the grey sheen of a
+sun-dried log. He stood up. The thick undergrowth reached to his
+armpits, but through it, a couple of yards from where he stood, and ten
+from the spot where the wheel-marks turned, was the fallen trunk of an
+old dead tree.
+
+Such a log, hollow for the greater part of its length and absolutely
+hidden by the shrubs growing round it, was exactly the place where
+anything could be secreted, and remain secreted, for an indefinite
+period.
+
+Pushing his way carefully through the tangle of shrubs he came upon it
+at the root end. It had evidently fallen in some bygone bush-fire, the
+jagged charred fragments showing where it had snapped off close to the
+ground. The fire had eaten its way into the heart of the timber and
+there was space enough in the cavity for a man to crouch.
+
+Stooping down, Durham peered into it. At the far end he saw,
+indistinctly, a confused mass, pushed up closely. He reached in, but
+could not touch it, without creeping into the opening.
+
+He looked round for something that would serve as a rake to pull the
+articles out, but there was no loose stick sufficiently long near to
+hand, and he did not want to cut one. Higher up the bank he saw one that
+would suit his purpose and went to get it.
+
+As he returned with it in his hand he saw, at the other end of the log,
+a patch of white on the ground. Going over to it he found it was caused
+by a chalky powder which clustered thickly near the tree.
+
+This end of the log was also hollow, and in the cavity were a couple of
+bags which, when he pulled them out, he found to be full of the chalky
+powder.
+
+The white horses flashed into his mind as he looked at it.
+
+"The cunning scoundrel!" he exclaimed. "Even the horses were disguised."
+
+He replaced the bags, and went to the root end of the tree. With his
+stick he was able to reach the objects stored in the hole, and pulled
+one out.
+
+By the weight he knew what he had found, before he opened it--the bag
+was full of gold.
+
+Slowly he drew everything out of the place. All the gold taken from the
+bank and from Taloona lay at his feet, together with a miscellaneous
+collection of jewellery wrapped up in a small square of canvas. But
+there was no sign either of papers or bank-notes.
+
+It was out of the question for him to attempt to remove the treasure to
+the bank there and then. All he could do was to make it as secure as
+possible until, at a later day, he could return with a conveyance and
+carry it back to the town.
+
+On the far side of the bluff he discovered a crevice formed by an
+overhanging ledge. It was a place even more difficult to trace than the
+fallen tree, and here he placed everything, keeping only a gold watch
+which bore Harding's name. Then, having obliterated, as nearly as he
+could, every mark which would be likely to reveal the hiding-place, he
+made his way back to his horse.
+
+He rode to the margin of the pool, and walked along the track until he
+was opposite the streak of mud stain in the water. The horse and
+wheel-tracks turned towards it and, standing up in his stirrups, Durham
+saw that the water shoaled with a wide ledge of rock running directly
+into the pool.
+
+Putting his horse to it, the water was barely a foot deep on the rock
+all the way across to the opposite bank. Here the horse and wheel-tracks
+reappeared, turning sharp to the left through the bush, and passing over
+a dwarf ridge from the summit of which he caught sight of the mountain
+road where it turned down to the ford.
+
+Still following the tracks, they led him once more to the water's edge.
+He entered it, and continued close to the shore until he suddenly
+emerged on to the rock which formed the break in the road over which the
+stream rippled.
+
+He rode on to the road and reined in his horse near the spot where he
+had first seen the pool the night he was on his way to Waroona Downs.
+Had he not just ridden along the track round the edge of the water, he
+would not have believed it was there, so absolutely was it hidden from
+the roadway.
+
+For a moment he hesitated whether to go on to Waroona Downs or return to
+the township at once, and arrange for the treasure to be removed. But
+the anxiety gnawing at his heart decided for him and he wheeled his
+horse and set off at a canter for the station.
+
+As he came out to the level road he saw, riding towards him, the object
+of his regard. Mounted on a fine dark chestnut she was coming along at a
+hand gallop. She waved her hand as she caught sight of him, and he
+pulled up to wait for her, watching, with more than admiration, the
+magnificent seat she had and the easy grace with which she managed her
+horse.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Durham, I'm so glad to see you," she cried as she came up. "I
+am in such trouble about that old reprobate. Sure he's gone and I'm just
+after riding into town to see if he is getting more of the wretched
+drink. If I find him----"
+
+"Brennan will have him if he is in there, Mrs. Burke. You need not be
+uneasy. I'll inquire as soon as I return. I am on my way----"
+
+"Oh, but I can't," she interrupted. "What would they say if ever it got
+to Ireland that I let the old fool fall into the hands of the police
+over a trifle like this--for it's only a trifle they would call it in
+Ireland, Mr. Durham. Sure if it were known there, and you may be certain
+he'd leave no stone unturned to make it public, they'd boycott me and
+all my belongings, if they didn't do something worse."
+
+"Then it would be better for you not to go back there," he said, smiling
+at her.
+
+She gave him a sidelong glance with her head on one side.
+
+"Not go back there? And what should I be doing anywhere else with all my
+responsibilities waiting over there for me?" she asked coquettishly.
+
+"You may have responsibilities over here as well, some which would----"
+
+"Oh, now, you're making fun of me, Mr. Durham," she exclaimed. "What's a
+bit of a place like this with never even a single pig on it, let alone
+all the sheep and cattle it ought to have, to keep me from my own home?
+When I get stock on the place it might keep me here, but sure where's
+the money to come from to buy the creatures if I don't go back and sell
+everything I possess to pay for them?"
+
+"Won't you turn back, Mrs. Burke? I was riding out to see you. I want
+to--ask you something."
+
+"Ask me something? What, more police questions? No, no thanks, Mr.
+Durham. They don't agree with my constitution--nor my temper."
+
+"It is not a police question," he said seriously. "It is to
+do--with--with yourself."
+
+A merry peal of mocking laughter answered him.
+
+"Come along now, come to the township with me before they get poor old
+Patsy where it would break his honest old heart to be."
+
+She started her horse.
+
+"Come along now," she called over her shoulder, flashing a mischievous
+glance back at him.
+
+He had no alternative but to follow, and he cantered to her side.
+
+"It would teach him a good lesson, Mrs. Burke, if you let him spend a
+few days in the lock-up," he said. "It would give him a chance to get
+really sober, whereas, if he keeps on getting drink, you will have him
+out of his mind."
+
+"Now you're trying to frighten me, Mr. Durham. Sure, what sort of a man
+is it I've met this morning? I believe you'd like to see old Patsy
+inside a cell, and then maybe you'd be after me too."
+
+"I might be," he answered.
+
+"What would you give me? Six months hard or just a caution?"
+
+"I should offer you something entirely different," he said in a serious
+tone of voice. "I should offer you----"
+
+"Oh, yes, it's a lot you police people offer folk. Sure they have to
+take what is given them, whether they like it, or want it, or not."
+
+"I may not always be one of the police people, as you term us," he said.
+
+"Are you thinking of joining the ministry?" she exclaimed. "I'd like to
+hear you preach your first sermon, Mr. Durham. I'd come twenty miles in
+the rain for it."
+
+The mockery in her voice irritated him, and his face showed it.
+
+"Oh, now, Mr. Durham, don't talk nonsense. What would become of the
+place if you left the force of which you are such an ornament? It's
+fairy tales you are telling me. And you have never said a word yet about
+your journey. What news did you hear when you reached Waroona?"
+
+"I suppose you have not heard about Eustace?" he asked.
+
+"Eustace? What's the matter with Eustace now?"
+
+"He was found yesterday."
+
+The jerk she gave the bridle brought her horse back on his haunches, and
+Durham was a couple of lengths past her before he could bring his horse
+round. When he turned she was allowing her horse to walk, the bridle
+hanging loose.
+
+"Eustace was found yesterday?" she asked in a dazed tone as she came up
+to him. "Found yesterday? Is that the news you had to give me?"
+
+"It was not to tell you of that I was on my way to Waroona Downs," he
+replied. "Though I should probably have mentioned it."
+
+"Where was he found, Mr. Durham? I suppose he is arrested now?"
+
+All the raillery had gone from her voice, which had grown so sorrowful
+that he looked at her wonderingly.
+
+"He was not alive when he was found," he said quietly, still watching
+her.
+
+Her hands convulsively clutched the bridle, and her mouth twitched.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Durham, how awful! What a terrible thing! Oh, poor Mrs.
+Eustace! Sure I'm glad I'm going into the town, for I'll be able to see
+the poor thing. Is she much upset? But she is sure to be."
+
+"It is a great trial for her. She will be very glad to see you, I should
+think," he answered.
+
+"Oh, well, well; what a funny thing life is, Mr. Durham. One never
+knows. It's all a muddled-up sort of affair at the best. If only people
+could do what is in them to do, instead of being placed in positions
+where there is only sadness and trouble crowding in on them and crushing
+them out of existence! It's a weary world, very, very weary."
+
+"We can only take it as we find it, and make the best of it," he said.
+"You must not allow this to worry you. Perhaps, after all, it is the
+best thing that could have happened for him. There are worse things
+than death. Think what it would have been for Mrs. Eustace had he been
+captured and sent to penal servitude. Her whole life would have been
+ruined. We see so much of that in cases where the husband gives way. It
+is the wife who suffers most, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"Oh, I know, I know," she exclaimed in a tone so full of sadness that he
+feared he had touched on some secret grief.
+
+He rode beside her in silence, not knowing what to say lest he added to
+her distress, but yet tormented by the idea that he should speak out
+what was in his heart and learn, once and for all, whether his hopes
+were to be realised or shattered. Keeping slightly behind her, he was
+able to watch her without her knowing it. She was staring between her
+horse's ears, her lips tightly closed, her head erect, and her cheeks
+pale. Lost, apparently, in the reverie his words had called up, she
+seemed to have forgotten his presence as a mile went by without her
+turning her head or opening her lips.
+
+But she had not forgotten he was there. At a turn in the road she
+uttered a sharp exclamation and held out her hand, pointing.
+
+"Oh, it is too bad," she exclaimed bitterly. "It is too much for anyone
+to bear. Look at that!"
+
+Away down the road Durham saw a horse and rider. The horse was making
+its own way, the rider having as much as he could do to keep in the
+saddle. He was swaying from side to side, occasionally waving his arms
+in the air and howling out a tuneless ditty in a strident cracked voice.
+
+"Old Patsy," Durham said shortly.
+
+"Oh, what will I do?" she exclaimed.
+
+"Better let me take him back and give him a few days where he will have
+time to recover his senses, I think," he said.
+
+She flashed a furious glance at him.
+
+"I shall do no such thing," she snapped. "The best thing you can do is
+to get out of sight before he sees you. He hates you, Mr. Durham.
+Irishmen of his class always hate the police. The sight of you will only
+aggravate him in his present state."
+
+"He is not in a fit state to return with you," Durham said.
+
+"Oh, I can manage him if I'm left alone with him," she replied.
+
+"But I shall not leave you with him," he said firmly.
+
+"You must; you must," she exclaimed sharply. Then, as though a mask had
+fallen from her, the expression of her face changed and she leaned
+towards him, laying her hand on his bridle arm. "Oh, yes, please, for my
+sake. For the sake of--of what I said you--you were not to mention
+again--will you--please will you do this?"
+
+Her wonderful eyes, soft and melting with a look of appeal, were turned
+full upon his; her red lips pouted and her voice thrilled with a winning
+gentleness.
+
+"Please, please do this for me. I would not ask it, only I know--I
+know--I can ask _you_."
+
+Her voice sank to a whisper, more alluring, more devastating upon him
+than when she spoke before. So taken aback, and yet so elated was he at
+her change of manner, that he could not answer her at once.
+
+"You were coming to tell me again--I read it in your face. Oh, do this
+for me now. Leave me alone with him. Come and see me to-morrow. Come and
+tell me then--tell me--what I want to hear."
+
+"Nora!"
+
+The word escaped him in a gasp. What she wanted to hear! Were his ears
+playing him false? Was he dreaming? He had his hands on hers, holding it
+with a grip of a strong man stirred to the depths, crushing the fingers
+one on the other, but there was no waver in the eyes that looked with so
+much entreaty into his.
+
+"Leave me now before he sees you, before he gets here. I can manage him
+best alone. Look, he is hastening. Oh, don't wait. Ride away into the
+bush. I appeal to you--in the name of my love for you. Dearest--go!"
+
+The tumult surged up and over him; had she bidden him at that moment to
+ride into the jaws of death, he would have galloped, shouting his
+delight. Nothing else counted with him then, nothing but her wish.
+Bending down he pressed her hand to his lips.
+
+"Go--go--quickly--dearest!" he heard.
+
+"Till to-morrow, Beloved, till to-morrow," he answered, as, pulling his
+horse's head round, he drove his spurs home and plunged into the bush,
+racing in the wild abandon of his joy.
+
+What did it matter that a drunken old Irishman was saved from arrest? He
+would probably have contented himself with warning the old reprobate to
+get home as quickly and as quietly as he could. But she did not know
+that. All she could do was to think how to save her foolish servant from
+the penalty of his folly--how like her that was, how like the great
+warm-hearted noble creature she was! Pride in her, pride, love,
+adoration, welled up in his heart. The yearning of his soul was
+satisfied, the longing of his being set at rest.
+
+Her love was his! In that knowledge all the contradictions of her
+attitude became clear. She had only sought to hide the truth from him
+lest he should think her too easily won. He laughed aloud as he
+galloped.
+
+Too easily?
+
+No matter how great the sacrifice he had been called upon to make, it
+would have ranked as nothing if, at the end of it, her open arms were
+waiting to enfold him. But there was no sacrifice, no toll to be exacted
+from him. Of her own initiative she had sounded the note which called
+him to her and made her his. To-morrow he would ride out to her, not
+alone to give her the pledge of his affections, but to carry to her the
+tidings of his discovery. Although he had not yet recovered her papers,
+he would be able to assure her that he would have them as soon as he
+captured the man who stole them, the man who had murdered Eustace, the
+Rider whose hiding-place he had discovered.
+
+For there was no doubt in his mind about that capture. Once let the
+gold be safely removed to the bank, he would return to the cave and wait
+till, as he was certain would happen sooner or later, the Rider came for
+his disguise.
+
+Then Nora Burke should have her papers returned in safety, and he would
+have won more than the promised five thousand pounds reward.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+DUDGEON PROPOSES
+
+
+For the first time since the outrage at Taloona, Dudgeon visited
+Waroona.
+
+He drove up to Soden's hotel in the old rackety buggy at a crawl, for
+his horse had gone dead lame on the way. At the time he arrived Patsy
+was making ineffectual attempts to mount his horse for the ride which
+led to so dramatic a turning in Durham's romance, having just staggered
+out of the bar highly indignant because Soden had refused to allow him
+to have anything more to drink on the premises.
+
+"Have you a horse I can borrow from you, Soden? My old crock has gone in
+the off hind-leg and wants a rest. Can you let me have one to get back?"
+Dudgeon called out.
+
+"I'll have to send out to the paddock, Mr. Dudgeon, but I'll have one in
+by four this afternoon, if that will suit you."
+
+"It'll have to suit, I suppose," Dudgeon replied. "I didn't want to hang
+about the place so long, but if you'll have it in by four I'll be here
+ready to start. I'll leave the buggy with you."
+
+While they were talking Patsy and his horse were slowly going round and
+round, the old man missing the stirrup every time he put his foot up,
+and only avoiding a fall by hanging on to the bridle so firmly that he
+pulled the horse round at each ineffectual attempt to mount.
+
+"Give him a leg up, Jim," Soden said to his barman.
+
+Old Patsy, with the help of the barman, managed to clamber into the
+saddle, where he sat for a few minutes swaying unsteadily before he
+started to ride off through the town.
+
+"Where's he from?" Dudgeon asked, looking after him.
+
+"Oh, that's Mrs. Burke's Irish body-guard," Soden said. "Says he should
+never have left Ireland, and I agree with him. There'll be trouble out
+at the Downs some of these days, if she doesn't clear him out or he
+gives over drinking. Don't you serve him any more, do you hear, Jim?
+Hand him over to Brennan if he comes in again," he added to his barman.
+
+"Well, what's the news?" Dudgeon exclaimed as he got out of his buggy
+and limped over to Soden.
+
+"The leg's not all right yet, I see?" Soden said.
+
+"Oh, that's getting on. Anything fresh about the bank?"
+
+"Why, haven't you heard?" Soden cried. "They've found Eustace, found him
+with a bullet through him, lying in the water at the ford in the range.
+He's over there now," he added, jerking his head towards the
+police-station.
+
+"What's that you say?" Dudgeon exclaimed, open-eyed and open-mouthed.
+
+"They found him only yesterday--the sub-inspector and the constable. And
+last night, what do you think? His mate, the man with the beard who
+stuck your place up, galloped through the town here, and afterwards,
+when we were all out chasing him, doubled back on us and stole
+everything he could lay his hands on."
+
+Dudgeon still stood staring open-mouthed and open-eyed.
+
+"There were only two places he missed, the bank and the cottage down the
+road--Smart's place--where Mrs. Eustace is living."
+
+"Ah! Then that poor thing's a widow?"
+
+"That's so," Soden replied. "But, between you and me, I don't think for
+long. You know she and Harding--he's our new bank manager, by the
+way--are old friends, Mr. Dudgeon, and from what I hear from Jim, my
+barman, who's got his eye on the girl Mrs. Eustace has, they're pretty
+good friends now, if not a bit more. I shouldn't be surprised, speaking
+as between man and man, to see her back at the bank again before many
+years are over, that is, if young Harding stays on here."
+
+"Oh!" Dudgeon exclaimed. "Oh!"
+
+"He's a fine young fellow, Mr. Dudgeon, and you ought to be interested
+in him, for he was the first to look after you when you were knocked
+over. But, here, won't you come in for a bit? You're in no-hurry."
+
+"Yes, I am," Dudgeon replied. "I'm in town on business, and when I have
+business to do, Mr. Soden, I do it. See?"
+
+"It's a good plan."
+
+"Yes, it's a very good plan. So I'll move along. Don't forget to have
+that horse in sharp at four--I don't like waiting."
+
+He limped away down the road and Soden turned back into his house.
+
+"Old Dudgeon don't seem to have lost much of his sourness since he was
+laid out," he said to his barman as he passed. "He's never been inside
+this door since I've been here, and they say he hadn't been in for years
+before then. Queer old chap he is. I wonder if he is mixed up with the
+Rider?"
+
+Limping along, Dudgeon made straight for Smart's cottage and knocked at
+the door.
+
+"I've come to see Mrs. Eustace," he said gruffly when Bessie answered.
+
+"I'm sorry, sir, but Mrs. Eustace can't see anyone to-day. It's----"
+
+"You go and tell her it's me, do you hear? Mr. Dudgeon of Taloona. I'll
+come in and sit down till she's ready."
+
+He pushed the door wide open and stepped inside.
+
+"But Mrs. Eustace, sir----" Bessie began.
+
+"Did I speak loud enough for you to hear, or didn't I?"
+
+"Yes, sir, but----"
+
+"Then go and tell Mrs. Eustace I'm here."
+
+He was nearly at the door of the sitting-room when Mrs. Eustace, having
+heard his voice, reached the passage.
+
+"Ah," he exclaimed. "I want to talk to you. Just come in here, will
+you?"
+
+He held the door open for her and waited till she passed in. Then he
+followed and closed the door.
+
+"Just excuse me one minute," he said as he remained standing by the door
+which he suddenly flung open again.
+
+"I thought so," he cried, as he saw Bessie in the passage. "You clear
+out of it. What I've got to say to Mrs. Eustace don't concern you, nor
+Jim the barman. Do you hear?"
+
+Bessie heard, and scurried.
+
+"It's only fair to tell you," he said, turning to Mrs. Eustace, "that
+what that girl sees and hears here goes to Jim the barman who, if you
+don't know it, tells Soden, and Soden tells the town. You understand?"
+
+He limped across the room and sat down.
+
+"I've come in to tell you something," he went on. "When I got here I
+heard the news. But that makes no difference to what I had to tell you.
+I can still tell you. But I must say something else first. You wouldn't
+stay on at Taloona when I asked you, but that was your business. Now
+this has come to you. I'm no hand at talking sympathy, but if you want
+anything that I can get for you it's yours--you understand?"
+
+He leaned forward, with his hands on his knees, looking her steadily in
+the face.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Dudgeon, I--I understand," she said haltingly.
+
+"That's what I thought you'd say," he remarked as he sat back. "I know
+it's a sad business for you, as it stands, and I'd rather you never had
+it. You're the first woman I've felt that way about for more years than
+you've lived. But I'm sorry for you, hang me if I'm not."
+
+"It is--good of you to say so," she murmured.
+
+"Still, you're young, and there are many years before you which won't be
+all sad, you may be sure. But now you're a widow will you come to
+Taloona?"
+
+She looked up quickly without replying.
+
+"I don't care how it is. You can make it your home as a guest, or you
+can come as Mrs. Dudgeon."
+
+"Oh, please, Mr. Dudgeon," she exclaimed as she stood up. "You--I know
+you don't mean to hurt me, but----"
+
+She broke off and turned away.
+
+"It wasn't said to hurt you," he said. "It was only to show you what I'd
+do for you. Seemed to me it was the best way to put it. I only want you
+to understand I'm with you whatever comes along. Will you take it that
+way?"
+
+"I know," she exclaimed impulsively, as she crossed over to him and laid
+her hand on his shoulder. "I know how you mean it, Mr. Dudgeon, and I
+appreciate it more than I can say. It was the----"
+
+"The clumsy way I put it," he said, as she hesitated. "That's all right.
+Don't mind speaking out your mind to me--you used to pretty well when I
+shied at that physic you poured into me a few weeks back."
+
+"I should have asked how the leg is," she said leaping at the opening to
+change the subject. "Is it still very painful?"
+
+"Oh, it comes and goes," he replied. "Mostly goes."
+
+"Don't you think it would be a good thing if you took the doctor's
+advice now and went away for a change and a rest? It would make you all
+right again in a few months. The hard, rough life you lead at Taloona
+makes it very difficult for you to get up your strength after the
+experience you have had."
+
+He smiled grimly--his facial muscles had been so long strangers to
+anything approaching tokens of mirth or pleasure that they did not move
+easily.
+
+"I suppose it is a bit rough out there," he said. "But then, you see,
+I'm used to a rough life--I've had it all my days. Is that why you
+wouldn't stay? Was it too rough for you?"
+
+He looked round the little sitting-room in which she had the furniture
+and nicknacks from her room at the bank.
+
+"There's a bit of a difference I will say," he went on as she did not
+reply. "It's a flower-garden to a stock-yard to compare this room with
+the hut you had out at Taloona. Look here. I'll build a new house, build
+it as big as you like or as little as you like, and you shall furnish it
+and fit it up just as you fancy--if you'll only make it a home for
+yourself."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No, Mr. Dudgeon, I am afraid that is impossible," she said. "At the
+same time, I want to thank you very much for what you say."
+
+"Look here," he exclaimed. "I don't want thanks. You know what my life
+has been--I told you the story often enough when I was lying sick and
+you were waiting on me like an angel--oh, I mean it," he added, as she
+looked up. "Just let me say what I've got to say. When you came back
+here, and I was by myself again, I began to think. Somehow the old views
+didn't seem quite to fit together. There was something wrong somewhere
+and I reckon that somewhere was me. I've put a wrong twist on things. It
+never struck me there was more than one woman in the world who could do
+anything to make me contented. So I set out to make money. I made it,
+made it by the ton. And now I've got it what's the good of it to me?"
+
+"There is no limit to the good it may be if it is properly applied, Mr.
+Dudgeon."
+
+"Where will it do good?" he exclaimed. "That's just what I want to know.
+Tell me."
+
+"There are hospitals," she said. "And schools. You might found
+scholarships for poor students to----"
+
+"And chapels and missions and dogs' homes--go on, trot out the whole
+list," he interrupted. "None of them will ever get a pennypiece out of
+me. More than half the money given to them goes to keep a lot of lazy,
+patronising officials in luxury--I know--I've come in contact with them
+when they have been cadging after me for subscriptions. They cringe till
+they find out there's nothing for them, and then they snarl. I've no
+time for that sort of people, no time nor money either."
+
+"Then I hardly know what to suggest," she said, "unless----"
+
+"Unless what?"
+
+"You helped Mrs. O'Guire and her children, if she has any."
+
+His mouth went into its old hard lines, and he sat silent for a time.
+
+"It's no good talking about that," he said presently. "The best thing I
+can do for them is not to think about them--I'd be after them again if I
+do--if I could find them. Help them? No. I'd rather give the money to
+the Government to build gaols. Can't you think of anything else?"
+
+"I'm afraid I cannot," she answered. "But I am still sure your money
+will do good if it is properly applied."
+
+"Ah, that's it. If it's properly applied. I'm an old man now. How am I
+to apply it? There's only one way that I can see, and that is what I am
+going to do with it. I'm going to give it away. What do you think of
+that?"
+
+"If you give it away where it will do good I think it is a very
+excellent idea," she answered.
+
+"You know that youngster at the bank, don't you? Young Harding, I mean."
+
+"Yes," she replied.
+
+"Do you think he is a man to be trusted?"
+
+"I know he is, Mr. Dudgeon."
+
+"I'll take your word for it," he said as he stood up. "I'll get along
+and see him. You can let him know if you want anything and he'll send
+on word to me. I'll look in again next time I'm passing. Good-bye."
+
+He held out his hand, hard, knotted, and roughened with toil, and she
+placed hers in it. His fingers closed on hers, and he stood looking into
+her eyes till she grew uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
+
+"I'd give everything I've got in the world," he said hoarsely, "for a
+daughter like you."
+
+He dropped her hand and limped quickly to the door, opening it and going
+out without looking back.
+
+Through the window she saw him pass along the road towards the bank, his
+head up in the old defiant way, the limp robbing his stride of much of
+its sturdiness. Without a glance at the cottage he passed out of sight.
+
+Right through the town he walked until he came to the bank.
+
+Harding, looking up at the sound of footsteps, was surprised to see him
+limping to the counter.
+
+"Good day, Mr. Dudgeon," he exclaimed.
+
+"Do you know how to make a will?" the old man asked, without replying to
+the greeting.
+
+"That is more the work of a solicitor than a banker, Mr. Dudgeon."
+
+"Oh, I know all about that. If it's going to be a long, muddled,
+complicated affair a solicitor's the man to go to. But that's not what I
+want. I want to make a will leaving everything I possess to just one
+person. I'm no hand with a pen, so I thought you might be able to do it
+for me."
+
+"Mr. Wallace is inside; perhaps he could advise you better."
+
+"Well, I'll see him."
+
+Remembering his last interview with the crotchety old man, Wallace was
+particularly circumspect when he met him.
+
+"What I want is this," Dudgeon exclaimed. "I want to say it in such a
+manner that there can be no questioning the thing afterwards, that is
+when I'm gone, you understand?"
+
+"I understand," Wallace replied.
+
+"I want to leave everything I possess to one person. If that is written
+on a sheet of paper and I sign it, isn't that enough?"
+
+"If your signature is witnessed by two persons."
+
+"Then go ahead. Write it out for me. You and this young man can be
+witnesses."
+
+"It is an unusual thing for the Bank to do, Mr. Dudgeon; but if you
+really wish it, of course we shall be only too happy to oblige you.
+Don't you think Mr. Gale----"
+
+"No," the old man snapped. "I've finished with Gale."
+
+"Then will you come into my room and we will do the best we can for
+you."
+
+Wallace drew up a simple form of a will and read it through aloud.
+
+"I have left the name blank," he said. "If this expresses what you wish,
+you can fill in the name and sign it, either before Harding and myself
+or two other people."
+
+Dudgeon took it and read it through again.
+
+"That'll do," he said. He put it on the table in front of Harding. "Fill
+in Mrs. Eustace's name--I don't know it," he added.
+
+Harding wrote the name in the blank space, the name of one who, in
+another minute, would rank amongst the greatest heiresses of the world.
+
+"That is the full name," he said as he handed back the document to
+Dudgeon.
+
+He looked at it.
+
+"Jessie, is it?" he said. "Jessie Eustace, nee Spence. There is no
+chance of a mistake being made, is there? Hadn't you better add whose
+wife she was?"
+
+"If you wish it."
+
+"And say where she is living now, and where she came from before she
+came here. I don't want this to go wrong. I want to make sure she will
+get everything."
+
+When the additions were made he read the whole document through once
+more.
+
+"Yes, that seems to fix it," he said. "Give me a pen."
+
+The signature affixed, and witnessed, he looked from one to the other.
+
+"I'll take your word to keep the matter secret till I'm gone," he said.
+"I don't feel like dying just yet, but one never knows, and, in the
+meantime, I don't want this known. She don't know, and if she does, it
+will only be through one of you two talking."
+
+"You may rest assured, Mr. Dudgeon, that both Mr. Harding and myself
+will respect your confidence and hold the matter absolutely secret,"
+Wallace replied.
+
+"That's good enough," he said.
+
+Turning to Harding, he added, "I'll leave this in your charge. If I go,
+see that she gets it. Good day."
+
+He was at the door when Wallace spoke.
+
+"Will you not stay and have some refreshment, after your long drive in?"
+he said.
+
+Dudgeon looked over his shoulder, with his hand on the door-handle.
+
+"That's all I want from you," he replied.
+
+"There is one other matter," Harding exclaimed. "If this will ever has
+to be used, we have no information what property you are leaving."
+
+Dudgeon let go the handle and faced round.
+
+"Young man," he said, "you've got a head on you. Just sit down and I'll
+tell you, and you can write them down."
+
+Leaving the two together, Wallace went to the outer office.
+
+"I am glad he's gone," Dudgeon remarked. "This don't concern him."
+
+Then he reeled off a list of properties, securities, cash deposits, and
+other possessions, dazzling in their value and variety.
+
+The name of a firm of lawyers in a southern city was added.
+
+"That's the lot," he said unconcernedly. "I needn't tell you to see she
+has her rights. Give me your hand, my lad. I hope she shares it with
+you."
+
+Without another word he was gone.
+
+Harding was still running his eye over the list of properties Dudgeon
+had dictated when he heard Wallace call.
+
+"All right. We'll come in," Wallace added, and appeared with Durham at
+his heels.
+
+"Do you know this?" Durham asked, as he held out his hand.
+
+"My watch! Where on earth did you find it?" Harding cried.
+
+"It is yours?"
+
+"It's the one which disappeared from under my pillow the night the bank
+was robbed."
+
+"I thought so."
+
+"Have you found anything more?" Wallace asked breathlessly.
+
+"All the money and a lot of jewellery. I would like Mr. Harding to come
+along with me to-night to the place where I have it hidden. We can bring
+it in quietly without anyone knowing. But till then, don't let this be
+seen, and don't breathe a word of what I have told you. Now I've got the
+money I want to make sure of the man."
+
+Wallace slapped him warmly on the back.
+
+"You're a marvel, Durham. I knew you'd do it somehow, but I'm bothered
+if I could see how. May I wire to head office?"
+
+"Not till to-night, Mr. Wallace. When the stuff is handed over to you
+will be time enough."
+
+"How about Mr. Dudgeon's money?"
+
+"It's there, too."
+
+"He's in town. Will you tell him?"
+
+"Not a word, Mr. Wallace. You are the only people I mention it to; not
+even Brennan will be told about it till it's here."
+
+"Well, you know more about these things than I do, so your word's law.
+But I shall be glad to let the head office know--I want to have the
+general manager's authority to do what I told you was going to be done."
+
+Durham smiled in answer. So did he want the general manager to authorise
+what was to be the news he wished to give Mrs. Burke on the morrow. With
+five thousand pounds behind him he anticipated less difficulty in
+persuading her to postpone her intended return to Ireland, postpone it
+long enough, at all events, for her to go, not as Mrs. Burke, but as
+Mrs. Durham.
+
+He stood at the door chatting to Wallace before going on to the station,
+when Dudgeon rattled past in his old buggy drawn by a borrowed horse.
+
+He did not look towards the bank as he passed.
+
+"If I told him I suppose he'd scowl at me and say, 'Oh, have you?'"
+Durham exclaimed as he watched the crazy old vehicle disappear along the
+road.
+
+"You are sure his money is there too?" Wallace asked.
+
+"Quite."
+
+"That's curious."
+
+"Why? It was obviously stolen by the same man who robbed the bank, and
+naturally they took it to the same spot."
+
+"Have you any idea who the men were--or rather the man, for I suppose
+there is only one now to be considered?"
+
+"That is so," Durham answered. "Only one--and he may be--anybody."
+
+"You have no suspicions?"
+
+"I don't want any. If I begin suspecting different persons I may miss
+the real individual. As matters stand, I know where, sooner or later, I
+shall meet him under conditions which will identify him as the man I
+want. The trap is set and the bird will be caught. That is all I can
+say."
+
+"Have you heard what they are saying in the town?"
+
+"I've heard a good deal one way and another, but not to-day, as I have
+been away since dawn. Is it anything special?"
+
+"Someone started the yarn last night, so Gale told me. There's an idea
+that old Mr. Dudgeon is at the back of the whole affair; that he hired
+the man they call the Rider to rob the bank in the first instance, so as
+to prevent the sale of Waroona Downs being completed. Eustace is
+supposed to have been bribed to join the conspiracy."
+
+"That's rather an ingenious theory. Whose is it?"
+
+"One of the men in the town; Gale did not mention his name. But he has
+evolved a very workable theory--at least to my mind."
+
+"Let me hear it all," Durham said.
+
+"Well, when the bank had been robbed, and the second lot of gold was
+hurried forward in time to save the situation, one part of the scheme
+failed, for the sale of the property was completed. The Rider and his
+mate--Eustace, as is generally believed--went out to Taloona to settle
+up with the old man. They found you there and, to blind you as to the
+real character of Dudgeon, they pretended to make him a prisoner. Then
+you showed fight, Dudgeon was shot by the bullet intended for you, the
+lamp was upset, and the place set on fire just as the troopers I sent
+arrived on the scene."
+
+"That sounds all right as far as it goes. Is there any more?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Dudgeon being laid up delayed the settlement and the pair had
+to wait--every time up to last night that the white horses have been
+seen was on the Taloona road, you may remember, which adds colour to the
+theory. Then they got tired of waiting and quarrelled between
+themselves, with the result that one of them got killed. The general
+idea is that they quarrelled over the division of the spoil, and, seeing
+what you have discovered to-day, I am inclined to agree with it. Last
+night's escapade was sheer bravado to mock at you and Brennan. What do
+you think of the idea?"
+
+"Oh, it's all right, as far as it goes. When my man walks into the trap
+waiting for him I may be able to tell you whether it is the correct
+solution, but, for the present, I should neither accept nor reject it."
+
+"That is all you have to say about it?"
+
+"That is all; and now I must get along to the station. I'll be back in
+an hour or so to tell Harding where to meet me."
+
+It was just on sunset when he returned to arrange for Harding to go out
+with him about midnight. With Harding and Wallace he was standing at the
+private entrance of the bank when, with a clatter, there dashed down the
+road the horse and buggy in which Dudgeon had driven by during the
+afternoon.
+
+The horse was galloping with the reins trailing behind it, the
+splash-board was smashed and hanging loose, striking the horse at every
+stride and adding to its panic.
+
+Durham and Harding rushed out to stop the runaway. It swerved to the
+edge of the road, the buggy overbalanced and rolled over, the shafts
+snapped, and the horse, breaking free, raced through the town.
+
+"Look!" Harding cried. "What has happened?"
+
+On the seat of the vehicle was an ugly red splash, while the floor was
+smothered with blood.
+
+"Send along to Brennan to follow me, will you?" Durham exclaimed as he
+sprang to his horse, which was standing at the door of the bank, mounted
+it, and spurred away along the road the runaway had come.
+
+Four miles away on the Taloona road he found Dudgeon.
+
+The old man lay in a heap in the middle of the road, riddled with bullet
+wounds, any one of which would have proved fatal.
+
+There were abundant signs of a fierce struggle. As Durham read the
+indications, an attack had been made upon him while he was driving
+along He had been shot and had struggled from the vehicle, probably
+returning the fire, for there was the mark where another man had fallen
+and added another red stain to the ground. Then the two had closed and,
+in the contest which ensued, Dudgeon had gone down, his assailant
+venting his mad rage by firing bullet after bullet into the prostrate
+form.
+
+While he was still examining the marks Durham was joined by Brennan and
+half a dozen of the townsmen who had ridden out in obedience to
+Harding's warning. Durham drew Brennan aside.
+
+"I only have my revolver with me," he said. "Give me your carbine and
+what cartridges you have. I must get away on his tracks before any of
+the men lose their heads and ruin the chance of capture by smothering
+them."
+
+"Give Brennan what help you can, will you?" he called out to the men who
+stood by their horses looking, horror-stricken, at the lifeless form of
+the old man.
+
+Mounting his horse he sped away. For a time he watched the track of a
+horse which had galloped just off the road. It had evidently lacked a
+firm hand on the bridle, for it seemed to have taken its own direction.
+
+The rider was wounded. Of that Durham was certain.
+
+Under such circumstances where would he go?
+
+As Durham turned his horse into the bush, making for the range where the
+little cave was situated, he answered his own question.
+
+Riding at topmost speed, he reasoned as he rode. The other man had at
+least two hours' start. With such a lead he could easily reach the cave
+first if he could ride steadily. But he was wounded, and in that lay
+Durham's hope of getting there before him.
+
+The light was waning by the time the commencement of the foothills was
+reached. At the bottom of the gully lying at the foot of a ridge across
+which he had to ride, Durham gave his horse a spell. The top of the
+ridge rose steep and bare. As he looked towards it, estimating which was
+the better direction to take to get to the cave, he heard the sounds of
+a horse walking.
+
+Presently, on the sky-line, immediately above him, he saw a horse and
+rider. There was just light enough for him to distinguish the form of
+the man.
+
+He was clad in grey, the jacket open, his hat in his hand. He was a
+bearded man--a man with a yellow beard.
+
+It was the Rider!
+
+Even as Durham watched, the man saw him, saw him and swung his horse
+round so sharply it set back on its haunches.
+
+In another moment he would be flying away through the gathering gloom,
+away into the broken fastnesses of the range, away, perhaps, for all
+time, from capture.
+
+The horse was recovering itself. Durham threw his carbine forward and,
+as the horse reared at the pain of the spurs driven into its side, he
+fired.
+
+Amid the echoes of the report there came a sharp scream of agony.
+
+Durham leaped to his saddle and spurred his horse up the steep slope.
+
+When he reached the summit only the marks of the flying horse's hoofs
+showed which way the man had gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+UNMASKED
+
+
+The silvery sheen of the rising moon glittered on the surface of the
+pool and lay over the sombre-foliaged bush as Durham came out upon the
+top of the bluff above the Rider's cave.
+
+From the moment he reached the ridge to find only the marks made by the
+plunging horse he had raced to get there first. Down the sharp slopes of
+the gullies, across the dry, rock-strewn bed of the mountain-streams, up
+the opposite steeps, with never a care for the risks he ran, he kept his
+horse at its topmost speed, sparing neither spur nor lash to urge it
+along. There was no time to choose the easy paths, no chance of picking
+his way; every moment was of value, for he knew how the wounded outlaw
+would make desperate haste to get to the shelter of his haven.
+
+The gloom of the bush ere the moon rose added to his difficulties. With
+no landmark to serve as a guide he had to rely absolutely upon his
+instinctive sense of locality, and kept steadily in the one direction,
+although that meant riding over the rugged ground, barred by tumbled
+boulders and thickly growing trees, which formed the almost precipitous
+sides of the gullies. At any time a fall was possible; he carried his
+life in his hands and knew it; but the ride was a race against odds, and
+there was no time to heed.
+
+He was breasting the rise of what he believed to be the last of the
+ridges he would have to cross, when the laboured breathing of his horse
+told him it was almost done. Leaning forward in his saddle, he patted it
+on the neck and spoke to it as a man who has realised the companionship
+between himself and a favourite horse will do. Responding to the
+encouragement, it mounted to the summit of the ridge and quickened its
+pace as it felt it was on level ground again. But where the other ridges
+had been flat on the top, this one was little more than a razor-back. No
+sooner was the ascent completed than the descent began. The horse caught
+in its stride to steady itself, tripped, stumbled, and came down. Durham
+was flung over its head like a stone from a catapult.
+
+Fortunately he came to the ground on the broad of his back, though with
+such force that he was momentarily stunned. His horse picked itself up
+and stood trembling and panting long before he was able to scramble to
+his feet. Even when he did so his head was spinning and he could barely
+stand.
+
+With unsteady steps he went to his horse and took hold of the bridle. To
+attempt to ride it further was obviously out of the question, and he led
+it slowly down to the bottom of the slope, tethering it securely to a
+tree in the shelter of the gully. Then, pulling himself together, he
+set off up the opposite slope on foot.
+
+His head was still swimming from the concussion of his fall, and into it
+there came the humming he had experienced after his adventure at
+Taloona. It made him so dizzy that he sank down on a boulder, resting
+his head on his hands until the humming and throbbing should pass. As he
+sat there came a sound to his ears which made him start to his feet,
+forgetful of the giddiness, forgetful of everything save the sound and
+all that it signified.
+
+Through the silence of the bush came the measured tread of a walking
+horse.
+
+It was evidently crossing the gully below, for, as he listened, the pace
+quickened to a trot and then to a canter and then became suddenly faint
+and muffled.
+
+In an instant Durham read the significance of it. The horse had crossed
+the gully on to level ground and, urged by its rider, had cantered out
+of hearing. Exactly such a thing would happen were the gully he had
+crossed the one which came out on to the level sandy margin of the pool.
+
+The realisation sent a chill through him. The rise up which he was
+climbing must be the ridge which formed the bluff above the cave. If he
+were not over it quickly, the Rider would be the first at the cave and
+Durham's scheme for his capture defeated.
+
+The thought drove the last vestige of dizziness from his brain. He faced
+the slope and forced his way through the tangled undergrowth until he
+came to the top and saw the moonlight gleaming on the surface of the
+pool and illuminating with its silvery sheen the open space at the foot.
+
+There was no sign of the horse he expected to see, and no sound came
+from the cave. With his carbine ready, he crept slowly and silently down
+until he was at the mouth. A stray moonbeam fell upon the spot where he
+had seen the clothes on his former visit. The spot was bare.
+
+He was about to step into the cavern when he heard the distant tread of
+the horse. Quickly drawing back, he hid himself behind a clump of shrubs
+which sheltered him, while leaving him a clear view in front up to the
+line of bushes stretching from the bank to the water's edge. There he
+waited, while the sound of the horse approaching became more and more
+distinct.
+
+Presently it was so clear he could hear the snapping of the twigs of the
+undergrowth as they were trampled down, and he levelled his carbine so
+as to cover the man immediately he and his horse emerged from the line
+of bushes. But when the animal appeared, for the moment Durham thought
+it was riderless. Only when it reached the middle of the open space and
+was almost directly below him did he see the man, lying forward over the
+withers, with his arms weakly clinging to the horse's neck and his legs
+swaying limply as they dangled with the feet out of the stirrups.
+
+Of its own accord the horse stopped. The man painfully pushed himself up
+until he was able to turn his head and look from side to side.
+
+He was scarcely ten yards from Durham, and the clear light of the moon
+revealed the face as distinctly as though it were day. The close-cropped
+hair, fair almost to whiteness, the eyebrows and eyelashes of the same
+hue; the general form of the face showing above the beard were
+incongruously, yet elusively, familiar, while the pallor of the cheeks
+and the anguish of the eyes told of the terrible injury the man had
+sustained.
+
+He was trying to push himself up so as to sit in the saddle. Only his
+arms seemed to have any strength, for the legs still dangled limply and
+the fingers clutched the horse's mane convulsively as the body swayed.
+The moonlight fell full upon the face, glistening on the beads of
+moisture which stood out on the skin.
+
+A twinge of pity passed through Durham's heart as he watched the agony
+of the stricken wretch. The effort to maintain his balance was more than
+the weakened muscles could stand. A deep groan broke from his lips as
+his arms gave way; his head fell and he plunged forward, slipping over
+the horse's shoulder and coming head first to the ground, where he lay
+in a limp, dishevelled heap.
+
+Freed from its burden, the animal stepped forward and moved to a tree
+where it had evidently been accustomed to find its feed, for it snorted
+impatiently and shook itself as it sniffed round the trunk. But Durham
+had no eyes for it; he was watching, with fascinated intentness, the
+figure lying motionless on the ground.
+
+Slipping from behind the sheltering shrubs, he approached the man with
+noiseless steps. There was no sign of life in the figure which lay as it
+had fallen, but across the lower part of the back the clothes were
+stained with blood. A bullet had struck him almost on the spine, and the
+dangling limbs were explained. The shot had paralysed them.
+
+Durham stooped over him. The faintest flicker of breathing showed he was
+still alive. He lay on his face, his arms out-flung, his legs twisted.
+Drawing the arms together, Durham slipped a strap round them above the
+elbows so as to hold them secure. Then he partly lifted him from the
+ground and dragged him to the mouth of the cave, where he sat him with
+his back against the rock.
+
+The head drooped forward. In his waist-belt there was a revolver-pouch
+which Durham, on removal, found to contain a revolver of heavy calibre
+loaded in all chambers.
+
+Now that he was unarmed and secured, Durham knelt beside him to try and
+revive him. He gently raised the head and rested it against the stone,
+holding it steady with one hand while with the other he lifted off the
+false beard.
+
+As the disguise came away and left the face fully exposed, Durham's
+heart stood still. With a cry he sprang to his feet, staggering back to
+stand, with clenching hands and throbbing temples, staring blankly at
+the white, drawn face upturned to his.
+
+The humming roar was again in his ears, a trembling seized his limbs,
+his brain reeled and the scene spun before his eyes.
+
+"Oh, my God!" he cried.
+
+Slowly the eyelids lifted and a spasm of pain contracted the pallid
+face. The glance rested for a moment on Durham as a faint wan smile
+flickered round the corners of the bloodless lips and the eyelids
+drooped again.
+
+The sound of his own voice in a hoarse, strained whisper jarred on
+Durham's ears.
+
+"You!" he gasped. "_You!_"
+
+The eyes opened once more.
+
+In a weak, wavering tone came disjointed words.
+
+"You said--you--would shoot him--like a dog--and I told you--it
+would--kill--me if you--did."
+
+As white as his captive, Durham stood dumbfounded.
+
+The feeling of horror which had come upon him when first he recognised
+the face overwhelmed him. His heart went dead and his brain numbed. All
+the roseate dreams of his romance turned to dull grey leaden grief to
+flaunt and mock him.
+
+Like the panoramic vision said to come to the minds of the drowning, the
+incidents on which his love had dwelt in cherishing delight passed
+before him. He saw again the sparkling eyes which had filled him with
+such gladness when first that love had come to him; saw the picture made
+by the wonderfully graceful form leaning against the verandah at Waroona
+Downs, bathed in the soft, romantic light of the new-born moon; saw the
+pleading face turned to him as the gentle voice spoke endearing words to
+gain a passing favour; saw once more that fleeting, taunting vision on
+which he had built so much despite the warning to beware of the vagaries
+of a delirium-swayed brain.
+
+The visions passed. Before him, crippled and ghastly in the last agony
+of life, lay the author of this diabolical outrage upon every
+sensibility of his manhood.
+
+A rage of blind, ungovernable fury swept over him. The primitive
+instinct of revenge, the savage longing to wreak, while there was yet
+time, a last fierce vengeance on the one who had betrayed him, filled
+his being. With a cry which ended in a curse he sprang to where his
+carbine lay, seized it by the barrel, and swung it round his head as he
+turned back upon his prisoner.
+
+A gasping sigh came from the prostrate form, and the head rolled lolling
+to one side.
+
+The carbine fell from Durham's hands and he stood motionless, looking
+down at the figure from which all signs of life had gone.
+
+As quickly as it had come the paroxysm of rage left him.
+
+The man was dying, if not dead, and the hideous riddle of the mystery
+still unsolved!
+
+He must not die! He must not pass beyond the reach of human knowledge
+with the truth of that tragic drama in which he had played the leading
+part unrevealed.
+
+Durham rushed to the pool, filled his cap with water and came back with
+it. Lifting up the drooping head, he moistened the nerveless lips and
+bathed the cold temples and pallid cheeks.
+
+"In the--cave--rum."
+
+The whisper was just loud enough for him to hear. Leaning the head once
+more against the stone, Durham staggered to the cave. A dark heap lay on
+the ground in the shadow. He struck a match.
+
+Numbed as his brain was by the revelation that had come to him, he
+shrank back at what he saw.
+
+A pile of woman's clothes; the skirt and jacket which had been impressed
+upon his memory only a few hours before under circumstances which form,
+perhaps, the one occasion when a man heeds and remembers what a woman
+wears; the jaunty hat which had exerted so great a spell upon the
+masculine population of the district, and beside it, the most horrible
+of all, a wig of luxuriant coal-black hair from which the subtle perfume
+that had so often charmed him still floated.
+
+With hands which shook so that he could scarcely hold it, he took the
+bottle of rum, bearing Soden's label, from the ground beside the
+clothes, and hastened to the mouth of the cave.
+
+In the cold moonlight the figure lay to all appearances dead.
+
+Durham tore open the front of the shirt and pushed in his hand to feel
+if the heart still beat.
+
+With the moaning cry of a heart-broken man he reeled back. Then, in a
+wild fervour born of his soul's despair, he fell on his knees beside the
+prostrate form and tenderly drew the lolling head to his breast and
+moistened the blue lips with the spirit.
+
+"Oh, speak! Speak to me! Nora, speak to me and tell me," he wailed.
+
+He reached to take her hands and remembered how he had bound the arms.
+Quickly he set them free and chafed the limp fingers.
+
+"Rum--quick--drink," came in a wavering whisper, and he poured some of
+the potent spirit between the lips.
+
+Holding her in his arms, with her head resting on his shoulder, he
+waited, listening to her faint breathing.
+
+"A little more and--I----"
+
+She was able to raise her hand to steady the bottle which he held. Then
+her head fell over again and she lay inert.
+
+He turned his face to watch her. In a momentary fit of remorse and grief
+he pressed his lips to hers.
+
+One of her arms stole round his neck and held him to her.
+
+"Oh, my darling, my darling, how I have loved you," he heard her
+whisper. "Why did you come to me so late?"
+
+Like a chill of death the words went through his brain.
+
+"Tell me--everything," he whispered.
+
+"Yes--before I die--if I can."
+
+"Who are you?" he said. "What is your real name?"
+
+"Nora O'Guire. I am Kitty Lambton's youngest daughter. I told you her
+story."
+
+"And Patsy?"
+
+"He was my father."
+
+"Was?"
+
+"Yes. He is at the house--dead--Dudgeon--shot him."
+
+"Who was it robbed the bank?"
+
+"Dad and I."
+
+"And Eustace?"
+
+"No. He was innocent."
+
+A shudder of horror passed over him. The woman whom he had loved with
+such an abandon, this woman whom he held even then in his arms--he
+shrank away from her, letting her fall against the stone as the grim,
+sordid horror of the tragedy she was revealing grew plain before him.
+
+"Ah, don't leave me--don't--don't," she moaned. "Let me die in your
+arms--let me--oh, I love you, love you beyond all else. I will tell you
+everything--everything--only still hold me."
+
+"How did Eustace die?" His voice rang hard and pitiless.
+
+"Oh! Give me this one last joy on earth. I am not all bad. Don't deny me
+now. Hold me in your arms, beloved. I had no faith in man or God till I
+met you, and you were good to me--in the coach--have you forgotten?
+Don't desert me--now."
+
+Like a jagged claw rending harp-strings the phrases jarred and jangled
+every chord within his being.
+
+"Oh, why--why----?" he cried. "Why did you come to this?"
+
+"Hold me and I will tell you."
+
+He knelt by her side, taking her head again upon his shoulder while she
+clutched at his hand.
+
+"My strength is going--more rum--quick."
+
+He held the bottle to her mouth in silence, loving, loathing, pitying,
+and condemning.
+
+"Now. Don't stop me. Don't interrupt--only listen."
+
+She lay still for a few minutes, gathering the last of her energy.
+Presently she began.
+
+"Dad, O'Guire that is, was driven to stealing. Mother too. All the other
+little ones died but me. Dad trained me. Write to the police in London
+and ask about Nora O'Guire--there are lots of other names, but they know
+me under all as Nora O'Guire. Then mother died. She made me swear not to
+rest till we had revenged her on Dudgeon. We came out, Dad and I, came
+out to find him. I bluffed the bank."
+
+"But the deeds you had with you--were they forgeries?"
+
+"No. I stole them. From a solicitor's office in Dublin--he probably does
+not know they are missing. Write to him."
+
+"Where are they now?"
+
+"In the cellar under the house--in a stone jar. His name is on them. The
+bank-notes are there too. The gold is in a----"
+
+"I have found that."
+
+She raised her head.
+
+"You found it? When?"
+
+"Early to-day. Before I met you."
+
+The head fell back. "I am glad," she said. "You are the first man to
+beat me--but I love you."
+
+"Tell me how you managed to deceive everyone as you did."
+
+"I acted. Once, for a time, when things got too hot for us, I went on
+the stage. It threw the 'tecks off the scent. I wanted to stay at it,
+for I liked it, but mother was mad to ruin Dudgeon, and Dad could not
+keep straight. So we began again. I wore a wig and made up. You'll find
+it in the cave."
+
+"I have seen it."
+
+"Oh, if I could only have married you," she gasped. "If I had only met
+you earlier!"
+
+"But about Eustace," he said quietly.
+
+"Yes, I'll tell you. I went to the bank--like this--and saw Eustace. I
+slipped into the kitchen and drugged the tea. I knew they all took it.
+Then Dad and I broke in. It was quite easy. I climbed up the verandah,
+opened the back door, and let Dad in. They were all dead asleep. We took
+the keys and cleared the safe. Every place was locked up again and left
+just as we found it. Dad went out, and when I had locked the back door
+I went over the verandah again."
+
+"How did you get the gold away?"
+
+"The buggy was in the bush. We whitewashed the horses as a blind. We
+knew they hated the colour up here. It puzzled everyone."
+
+"But when did you discover this place?"
+
+"Dad knew it in the old days. He and mother used to meet here in
+secret--there is a way across to the ford--the water gets shallow in one
+place--it was there Dad shot----"
+
+Her voice caught and she turned appealing eyes to him as she struggled
+for breath.
+
+"Give me--rum," she muttered, and he rested her head on his arm, while
+he slowly poured some of the spirit between her lips. For a time she lay
+so still he thought she had gone, till there came a wavering sigh and
+she moved her head slightly.
+
+"It was--nearly--over----" she whispered.
+
+"About Eustace?" he said. "Can you tell me now?"
+
+"Yes--I'll try," she answered. "Don't leave me--stay with me till the
+end, won't you? Give me--your word."
+
+"I will stay," he replied.
+
+The head resting on his arm turned until the eyes looked straight into
+his. They were filled with the gentle light he had seen in them when,
+through the momentary lifting of the veil of unconsciousness, he had
+been enabled to catch a glimpse of her real nature.
+
+"Then I'll tell you--everything," she whispered. "We had to fix
+suspicion on someone. When I saw him he had no nerve. I offered to
+shelter him. He agreed, and I let him out of the window, and pretended
+to go on talking to him all the time he was getting away into the bush.
+You know what happened then."
+
+"At the bank? Yes. But what became of Eustace?"
+
+"He was at the house. He was there the night you came. He nearly gave
+himself up. He was coming when he heard you say who you were. So Dad
+knocked him on the head and put him in the cellar."
+
+"While I was there?" Durham exclaimed.
+
+"Yes. When you went to see to your horse. Then later we had to trick
+you. Dad put something in the tea like I did at the bank, only it would
+have killed you all he put in. He wanted to. He wanted to after, and
+tried to, but I--I wouldn't let him--because I loved you. But I made you
+sleep that night--Dad had to make fresh tea, and I put the stuff in. We
+watched you go off on the verandah while you were smoking, and then tied
+you up. It was hard to make you wake, but we had to--Dad had taken
+Eustace's handkerchief--we knew you would be convinced if you found
+it--after seeing me--and we--we shot your horse, and made the others
+bolt."
+
+"But afterwards? What happened to Eustace afterwards?" he asked as she
+stopped.
+
+"We had to keep him there, then, because he knew. He was there in the
+cellar the night you came from Taloona. You heard him cry out. So Dad
+brought him here and tied him up. He was here all the time you were at
+the house. The evening after you saw Brennan, when you talked to me on
+the verandah, Dad came and found him escaping. Dad killed him. He had
+to. He shammed drunk next day, so that you should not suspect him. There
+is a short cut from the house, and Dad took it after you left, and got
+to the ford before you. That's all."
+
+"When Taloona was stuck up----"
+
+"Dad and I," she said. "We didn't know you were there. You hit me, and
+I--oh, darling, it broke my heart when I saw you fall, but I had to.
+That is why I took you away to nurse you. I kissed you when you didn't
+know."
+
+"The other night--when you rode through the town?"
+
+She lay silent and he repeated the question.
+
+"I was--half drunk. So was Dad. We did it out of devilment. They were
+all such fools--all but you--and you nearly shot me. The bullet grazed
+my horse. You will see the cut on the shoulder. You nearly caught Dad.
+He was in the police-station when you got back. He cracked every crib in
+the place--I wasn't in that."
+
+"Where did he hide?" Durham asked.
+
+"In the yard--where Eustace was--you never looked there."
+
+A convulsive shudder ran through her.
+
+"But to-night--where were you going to-night when I met you?" he asked.
+
+"To kill Dudgeon. Dad only just got home. I could die happy if I only
+had."
+
+Again her frame quivered, and she was racked with a fierce struggle to
+get her breath. She lay against him, her head resting in the hollow of
+his arm, her eyes closed, and her mouth twitching.
+
+"Tell him," she whispered between her panting gasps. "Tell
+him--I--tried----"
+
+He touched her hands lying limply in her lap; they were icy cold. Her
+head was growing heavy on his arm and her lips were turning blue. He
+moistened them once more with rum as her breathing became almost
+imperceptible.
+
+For a moment her eyes opened and looked into his with an expression of
+wonderful tenderness.
+
+"Dudgeon is already dead," he whispered gently.
+
+She started and tried to sit up, but could only raise her head.
+
+"Dead," she whispered. "Dead!"
+
+Then, as though the news galvanised her waning strength into one last
+tumultuous effort, she flung out her arms and sat up, with wide-open
+eyes staring fixedly into space.
+
+"Dad! Dad!" she cried. "You did--you did, Dad. Oh, thank----"
+
+Her arms fell, her head lolled forward, and her body lurched against
+Durham as, with a broken, gasping sigh, she collapsed into a nerveless,
+jointless thing.
+
+He bent his head and placed his ear to her breast above her heart. There
+was not the faintest throb, and he took his arm from around her. As he
+did so she rolled over, her face upturned towards the moon, at which her
+wide-open eyes stared and her mouth gaped.
+
+The Rider of Waroona was dead!
+
+With bowed head and aching heart Durham bent over her.
+
+All the love of his nature which had lain dormant for so long had gone
+out to this woman, enfolding her, idealising her, until she became to
+him the completement of his being, the one incentive for all which was
+noble within him, the mainspring of his life, the lode-stone of his
+ambitions. To have won her would have been his dearest and proudest
+achievement; to have had her love would have made existence for him a
+never-ending stream of happiness and joy.
+
+As a sun new risen from the night she had come into his life, bringing
+light and warmth and peace where there had been only coldness and
+unrest. So he had dreamed of her only that morning; so she had appeared
+to him only a few hours since when, at her bidding, trusting her,
+believing in her, loving her, he had turned his back on his
+duty--betrayed.
+
+Resentment at the treachery warred with his love and tinged his sorrow
+with bitterness. How she had played with him, tricking him, fooling him,
+outwitting him--and yet loving him.
+
+The memory of the last fond look of lingering tenderness which had been
+in her eyes ere he told her Dudgeon was dead came to him. Why had he
+told her that? Why had he not let her die as she was then, with the
+gentle side of her nature dominating her, filled with the one soft
+impulse she perhaps had ever known?
+
+The words had slipped from his tongue almost before he knew, and on the
+instant there had come back to her the overshadowing influence which had
+warped her life for evil even before she was born.
+
+By his hand she had died; by his words her last moments had been filled
+with the blackness of insensate hate.
+
+Before the mute condemnation of that self-accusing thought the
+bitterness which had been in his mind against her dissipated. Whatever
+ills she had done to him, he had done greater to her. Whatever ills she
+had done to humanity were the outcome not of her own nature, but of the
+circumstances and conditions which had governed her from the moment she
+was born. All that she had said during the last evening he spent at her
+house recurred to him and a new significance dawned into the words.
+
+She had spoken of herself, pleaded for herself, striven to rouse his
+sympathy and compassion, so that, within the sombre barrenness of her
+ill-starred life, one spot there might be where the loving kindness of
+human charity had fallen and made it bright. He remembered how he had
+answered her--coldly, sternly, crushing down her awakening soul with the
+same callous indifference which had always met her. With the pitiless
+weight of a loveless life, what wonder she was warped, distorted,
+marred? More sinned against than sinning, he had no right nor will to
+blame her--only the love she had inspired in him remained, to fill his
+heart with sadness and drag it down with the hopeless desolation of vain
+regrets.
+
+For she had gone from him even as she revealed the love she bore him,
+gone into the darkness by his own act, gone--his throat grew hard until
+he choked as the thought came to him--gone from a greater degradation
+he, by the merciless irony of fate, would have had to fasten upon her.
+
+Better, a thousand times better for her, that she should be as she was
+than that she should have lived to face the doom awaiting her--better
+for her--and better for him.
+
+It was nothing to him now that the story she had told showed her, by all
+the laws of humanity, to be unworthy. Black as she had painted herself,
+the love she had inspired shone through the blackness, revealing only
+that which lay beyond, the radiant purpose, unmeasurable by human
+standards, transcending human ken.
+
+He knelt again by her side, taking her cold hands in his and placing
+them upon her breast, closing the staring eyes, composing the
+wry-drooped mouth, straightening the twisted limbs.
+
+"Oh, my love, my love," he wailed. "Sleep on in peace. Sleep on till I
+shall come to you. Wait for me, for I must stay awhile yet to shield and
+shelter you so that none may know the secret of your life."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE ASHES OF SILENCE
+
+
+Wallace and Harding were seeing all was secure in the bank before
+retiring for the night when a sharp rap sounded at the front door.
+
+"Hullo, what's this?" Wallace exclaimed. "Will you see who it is?"
+
+Harding went to the door and opened it. On the step Durham was standing.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Durham. Come in," he said. "We've been discussing things
+or we should have been in bed an hour or more ago. What's the news?"
+
+Without a word Durham stepped in and walked to the room where Wallace
+was waiting at the door. Directly he came into the light both Harding
+and Wallace uttered exclamations of surprise.
+
+"Why, what has happened?" the latter cried. "My dear fellow--you look
+thoroughly done up--you are as haggard as a man of sixty. You've
+overdone it. Let me get you a whisky."
+
+Durham shook his head and sat down, resting one hand on the table at his
+side, the other on his knee. His uniform was soiled and torn, his face
+lined and grey, and his eyes heavy as with a great weariness. The quick
+alertness he had shown when he was with them earlier in the day had
+gone; he looked, as Wallace had expressed it, an old, haggard man,
+listless, without vitality, lacking even the energy to talk.
+
+The two stood watching him in silence, the same question in each one's
+mind--what could have happened to produce so great a change in a man in
+so short a time?
+
+"Are you sure you won't let me get you something?" Wallace said
+presently as Durham neither moved nor spoke. "You are quite worn out.
+Won't you take----"
+
+Durham raised his hand as he shook his head again.
+
+"I only want you to send away a telegram at once to your head office,"
+he said in a voice so dull and hollow that it caused even a greater
+shock to his companions than his appearance had done.
+
+"There would not be anyone to receive it at this time of night," Wallace
+replied. "But it shall go the first thing in the morning."
+
+"If you will write it now, I will leave it at the post office," Durham
+said in the same lifeless tone.
+
+Wallace rose, forcing a smile.
+
+"It is already written, Durham," he said pleasantly. "It states you have
+succeeded in recovering the stolen gold, and asks for authority to pay
+you the reward at once and in public."
+
+"You must not send that."
+
+The forced smile faded as Wallace stood staring; the expression both in
+Durham's voice and on his face was so hopelessly despondent, that into
+Wallace's mind there came a fear lest the recovered gold had again
+disappeared.
+
+"Not send that?" he asked wonderingly. "Why? You said----"
+
+"I know. But you must not send it--now. Write another."
+
+"The gold is lost?" Wallace exclaimed.
+
+"No. The gold is safe; it is on its way here now--Brennan is bringing
+it. What you must report at once is that Eustace was innocent."
+
+"Eustace innocent?"
+
+Wallace and Harding uttered the exclamation simultaneously.
+
+"Innocent. Absolutely innocent. Tell Mrs. Eustace too. It may bring her
+a grain of comfort in her distress."
+
+Without raising his head or lifting his eyes, Durham spoke in the voice
+of a man upon whom the weight of desolation has fallen. To his hearers
+it suggested failure, defeat, and the consequent loss of professional
+prestige. To Wallace, whose concern was mostly for the recovery of the
+Bank's money, the suggestion did not convey so much as it did to
+Harding. He knew more of Durham's views, had heard him express time and
+again his absolute conviction as to the guilt of Eustace. The case, as
+Durham had put it, was so entirely clear against the late manager that
+to hear him now declared innocent, and by the man who had accumulated
+evidence against him, reduced Harding's mind to a blank.
+
+"What are you saying, Durham?" he heard Wallace exclaim with impatience.
+"What do you mean? Eustace innocent? Why--great Heavens, man, if he were
+innocent----"
+
+"He was absolutely innocent, Mr. Wallace. As innocent as Mr. Harding."
+
+"But----" Harding passed his hand across his forehead.
+
+"It is true," Durham said in a subdued tone. "I was entirely misled,
+entirely."
+
+"But--then--well, how was the bank robbed?" Harding cried.
+
+"I know how it was robbed; by whom it was robbed; everything," Durham
+replied.
+
+"Who was it?" Wallace asked.
+
+Durham remained silent, his eyes fixed on the floor.
+
+"The Rider?" Harding said.
+
+"That name will do. The Rider and another. They are both dead. I saw one
+die--from a bullet in the back. I fired it. I have seen the other dead
+from a bullet Mr. Dudgeon fired. The missing notes I have recovered. I
+have them here."
+
+He put his hand inside his tunic and drew out a closely tied bundle
+which he laid on the table.
+
+"Will you check them and see if the total is correct?"
+
+"Now?" Wallace asked.
+
+"If you please."
+
+"But will not to-morrow morning do? It is enough to have as many as
+these back without going through them so late at night."
+
+"I shall not be here to-morrow."
+
+"You are surely not going away--not until----"
+
+"I shall not be here to-morrow," Durham repeated.
+
+The tone in which he spoke stopped further discussion.
+
+"We can check them in here--I will fetch the register," Harding said, as
+he rose and went to the office, returning in a few moments with the
+book.
+
+While he and Wallace checked the notes with the list of those stolen,
+Durham sat at the end of the table in the same position he had first
+assumed.
+
+"They are all here," Wallace said in a subdued voice, when the checking
+was complete. The presence of this grey-faced, silent, sad-eyed man was
+getting on his nerves.
+
+"The gold and the things stolen from the bank will be here in a few
+minutes; Brennan is bringing them."
+
+"And the deeds--Mrs. Burke's deeds? Have you no trace of them?"
+
+"They are returned to the owner."
+
+"But they ought to be here. The Bank advanced money on them."
+
+"I am sorry. I cannot help it now. You will have to hold the deeds of
+Waroona Downs instead."
+
+"We have those," Harding said quietly.
+
+"Oh, well then, it does not matter so much, though it is still very
+irregular, you know," Wallace replied.
+
+Durham stood up and turned to Harding. "You will tell Mrs. Eustace? Tell
+her I am more than sorry for her in her trouble, but she can console
+herself that she was right. Her husband was innocent. Good-bye."
+
+With bent head and slow steps he passed from the room and from the bank,
+closing the door after him.
+
+"But what does it mean? What does it all mean?" Wallace cried as the
+front door slammed.
+
+"We may know to-morrow," Harding replied. "There must be something
+horribly tragic to have affected Durham so much. Better leave it as it
+stands, I think. He would have spoken had there been anything more he
+could have said."
+
+"Did he mean the gold was coming here to-night?"
+
+"I gathered so. Shall I walk up to the station and ask Brennan?"
+
+But before he could do so Brennan arrived at the bank.
+
+"Where will you have it put?" he asked. "I've got it out at the back by
+the fence."
+
+"We'll both give you a hand with it," Wallace replied.
+
+They went out at the back door. A light cart was standing beyond the
+fence, with something in it covered by a tarpaulin. Brennan pulled the
+cover away and revealed the pile of bags.
+
+"There is hardly anything missing," Wallace exclaimed when everything
+had been carried into the bank and the amount checked. "It is one of the
+smartest things I have ever encountered. The way your sub-inspector has
+traced and recovered this is nothing short of marvellous."
+
+"He told me to say, sir, that it seemed to him only a right thing for
+you to do to let Mr. Eustace be brought here so that the funeral could
+be from the bank."
+
+"Well, of course we must consult Mrs. Eustace about that," Wallace
+answered. "I'll see Mr. Durham in the morning----"
+
+"Sorry to say you won't, sir," Brennan interrupted. "He's on his way now
+to the junction. He told me that what he had discovered he would have to
+report personally to the chief. Just what it is I haven't the faintest
+idea, but it's something pretty hot, if you ask me. I've never seen the
+sub-inspector curled up over anything like he is over this."
+
+"He told us he had shot the Rider," Harding said.
+
+"Oh, yes, sir, he told me that too. What I'm inclined to think is that
+he discovered him to be a member of some big family in the south, and
+is anxious for their sake to keep the name secret. It's just the sort of
+thing some young blood might do if he were in an awkward hole--a chance
+of lifting a big sum such as this is a pretty strong temptation to
+anyone in a hole."
+
+"That may be it. One never knows. He may even have been a friend of
+Durham's," Wallace said musingly. "Certainly something has upset him
+very much. You don't know what became of the papers he found, do you?
+The papers Mrs. Burke left with the Bank?" he added.
+
+"I know nothing about them, sir; but he told me to ride out to Waroona
+Downs the first thing in the morning and tell Mrs. Burke to come in and
+see you. Perhaps she may know something about them."
+
+"Ah, very likely," Wallace said. "He told us he had returned them to the
+owner. I expect that is it, Harding. He has sent or given them to her.
+She will be able to put the matter straight, however, when she comes
+in."
+
+"I should have liked to let Mrs. Eustace know to-night, but it is too
+late now," Harding remarked. "It's long after midnight."
+
+"Go over directly after breakfast in the morning. I'll see to the office
+until you return. It will be necessary to wire to the general manager
+about Durham's suggestion, but we must have her opinion first."
+
+"I suppose she has heard about Mr. Dudgeon," Harding said. "It's a bad
+business all through."
+
+"There is his will, Harding; don't forget that. Not many people would be
+inclined to call that a bad business if they were in Mrs. Eustace's
+place."
+
+It was the one grain of comfort Harding felt he was carrying with him
+when, on the following morning, he walked through the town to Smart's
+cottage.
+
+Already the news of the Rider's end was common property. When Mrs.
+Eustace came to him in the little sitting-room, it was of that she
+spoke.
+
+"Oh, who was he, Fred? Bessie heard that Mr. Durham had refused to tell
+anyone but you. Is that so? Surely I may know. Surely I am entitled to
+so small a satisfaction as that?"
+
+"I do not know who he was," Harding replied. "Durham came to us late
+last night, too late for me to come and tell you, but he mentioned no
+name. He said something I would have liked to have been able to repeat
+to you at once, but it was too late. So I have come as early as this.
+Durham asked me specially to come. He said--he hoped you----"
+
+She drew herself up as he paused, clasped her hands, and pressed them to
+her breast.
+
+"What is it, Fred? You have some--something terrible--to say," she said
+in a whisper.
+
+"Not terrible, Jess, but it is sad. Durham said he hoped you would find
+some consolation in it. So do I. So do we all. The Rider, whoever he may
+have been, confessed. He said Eustace was innocent."
+
+She remained quite still, without a sound, staring at him.
+
+"The bank was robbed by the Rider and another, Durham said, but Eustace
+was not one of the two. He was absolutely innocent. We have wired to the
+general manager to say so."
+
+"Fred, I don't believe it. I can't believe it. Why did he run away if he
+were innocent? I will never rest until I know who the man Mr. Durham
+shot really was. Where is Mr. Durham?"
+
+"He has left Waroona, Jess. He told Brennan he could only report
+personally to his chief the truth about the man. Brennan thinks he was
+someone connected with one of the big families, and that is why the name
+is not made known."
+
+"But I insist on knowing. Was he shot? Is it true, or is it some hideous
+blind? I will know, Fred, I will know!"
+
+"Durham was too much cut up when he came to us last night, Jess, for it
+to be a blind. A tragedy it may be, but not a blind."
+
+"But who was the man? Whoever he was he killed Charlie, killed him,
+Fred. They have no right to hide his name. Besides--how do we know he
+was shot? Durham said so, but where is the body?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Jess," he said, "it is sad enough. What the mystery is I cannot say,
+but if it has cleared Charlie's name----"
+
+She sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands.
+
+"Oh, that will not bring him back!" she sobbed. "What will that do now?"
+
+He bent over her, with his hand on her shoulder.
+
+"I know," he said, "I know how bitter it is, how hard."
+
+"I said they would find him innocent when--when he had gone," she
+exclaimed.
+
+"The Bank wants to make what amends it can," he said softly. "Will you
+let----"
+
+"Oh, don't ask me," she moaned. "I know what you would say. Do as you
+think best."
+
+"Then I will arrange it?"
+
+She bent her head in answer.
+
+"I should have gone away," she said as she rose and walked across the
+room. "You were right. I should never have stayed, never, never!"
+
+"Don't think me cruel, Jess," he said; "but there is something more I
+must tell you. Have you heard about Mr. Dudgeon?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Oh, yes," she answered. "Poor old man. He was here yesterday. He----"
+
+"He came to the bank," he said, as she was silent. "He left something in
+my charge, Jess, and made me promise you should have it at once if
+anything happened to him. It was his will. He has left everything to
+you."
+
+She turned quickly.
+
+"Fred--Fred----" she gasped as she held out her hands and groped in the
+air.
+
+He caught her as she swayed.
+
+For a time she lay in his arms, finding a woman's relief in a flood of
+tears. Not until she grew calm did he speak.
+
+"You must go away to-morrow," he said softly. "Go away and rest where
+you will not be harassed by all the memories which cling around this
+place. Promise me you will."
+
+She raised her head and looked him in the face through her tears.
+
+"Fred, you know why I cannot leave. Even now, with all this tragedy over
+me, with him--lying over there--he whom I suspected and blamed--don't
+think ill of me; but my heart would have been broken but for you."
+
+He drew her to him again, held her close to him, kissed her upturned
+lips.
+
+"I will leave too," he whispered. "I will come after. Will you promise
+now?"
+
+"Yes," she answered simply.
+
+When he returned to the bank, Brennan rode up at a gallop.
+
+"Oh, a terrible thing has happened!" he cried as he came into the
+office. "Waroona Downs has been burned to the ground in the night and
+both Mrs. Burke and old Patsy burned to death in their beds. I warned
+her that one of these days that drunken old man would do some damage,
+but she wouldn't listen to me. Now there's the place in ruins and ashes.
+It must have burned out hours ago, for there's not a spark left, only
+the remains of the two lying charred to cinders."
+
+Coming on top of the other news circulating amongst the townsfolk, the
+destruction of Waroona Downs, with its two inmates, exhausted the local
+capacity for wonder.
+
+The whole township followed Eustace from the bank, forgetting their
+earlier condemnation of him now that his innocence had been declared,
+and being only anxious to testify their sympathy with the woman who had
+suffered so much in their midst. They would have turned out _en masse_
+and escorted her some miles on her way to the junction when she set out
+from Waroona for the south, but word was passed round that she wanted to
+go away in silence, unobserved.
+
+Three months later Harding followed her. There was no staying the
+township then. He was the last of the active participants in the tragic
+mystery to leave the place, and it was an open secret he was going to
+join the one for whom they all felt deeply. So they made up in his
+send-off for the restraint they had exercised upon themselves when she
+bade the town a silent farewell.
+
+The memory of that festivity still lives in the local annals, and ever,
+as a stranger asks for the story of the Rider, the send-off of the
+banker is the conclusion of the tale. In vain the stranger may ask for
+particulars as to who the Rider was.
+
+The charred ashes of Waroona Downs had no tongue wherewith to tell what
+happened the night fire came to wipe the homestead from the earth.
+
+
+     WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD
+     PRINTERS PLYMOUTH
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rider of Waroona, by Firth Scott
+
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