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.