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 aw