tney has just gone out to the shed, with my husband and
the surgeon."

"Gone out to the shed!" Kate repeated, in astonishment.

"Yes, my dear. That poor wretch out there is going fast. He
recovered consciousness about two hours ago. The constable was
sitting up with him. He asked for water, and then lay for some
time, quite quiet.

"Then he said, 'Am I dreaming, or was it Reuben Whitney I fought
with?'

"'Yes, it was Captain Reuben Whitney, our inspector,' the constable
replied.

"For a time he lay quiet again, and then said: 'I want to see him.'

"The constable told him he was asleep, and couldn't be woke.

"'Is he badly wounded?' the man asked. 'I know I hit him.'

"'Not very badly, I hope,' the constable answered.

"'When he wakes ask him to come to me,' the man said. 'I know I am
dying, but I want to see him first. If he can't come, let somebody
else come.'

"The constable came in and roused the doctor, who went out and saw
him, and said he might live three or four hours yet.

"Soon afterwards, just as the sun rose, Jim came out, to say that
his master was awake. Mr. Ruskin went in to him and examined his
wound, and probed the course of the bullet. It had lodged down just
at the bottom of the shoulder bone. I am glad to say he was able to
get it out. When he had done, he told his patient what the bush
ranger had said; and Captain Whitney insisted upon going out to
him."

"It won't do him any harm, will it?" Kate asked anxiously.

"No, my dear, or Mr. Ruskin would not have let him go. I saw him as
he went out, and shook hands with him and, except that nasty
bandage over his face, he looked quite himself again. As I told
you, a broken collarbone is a mere nothing and, now we know where
the bullet went and have got it out, there is no occasion for the
slightest anxiety.

"Here they come again, so you can judge for yourself."

A very few words passed between Reuben and Kate; for Mrs. Barker,
who saw how nervous the girl was, at once began to ask him
questions about what the bush ranger had said.

"He has made a confession, Mrs. Barker, which your husband has
written down, and Mr. Ruskin and Smithson have signed. It is about
a very old story, in which I was concerned when a boy; but it is a
great gratification for me to have it cleared up, at last. I was
accused of poisoning a dog, belonging to Miss Ellison's father; and
was tried for a burglary, committed on the premises, and was
acquitted, thanks