that I could not catch, and then I lost sight of
them. But what I had heard stuck in my head, and so I accordingly went
off to the station, arriving there a little before the hour. I hadn't
been there long before the smallest of the two chaps I'd seen in the
street came on to the platform, and began looking about him. By the face
of him he didn't seem at all pleased at not finding the other man
waiting for him. A train drew up at the platform, and presently, just
before it started, I saw the other and a young lady wearing a heavy veil
come quickly along. The first man saw them, and gave a little cry of
delight. 'I thought you'd be too late,' says he. 'No fear of that,' says
the other, and jumps into a first-class carriage, telling the girl to
get in after him, which she does, crying the while, as I could see. Then
the chap on the platform says to the other who was leaning out of the
window, 'Write to me from Bourke, and tell me how she gets on.' 'You
bet,' says his friend. 'And don't you forget to keep your eye on
Hatteras.' 'Don't you be afraid,' answered the man on the platform. Then
the guard whistled, and the train went out of the station. Directly I
was able to I got away, and first thing this morning came on here. Now
you have my information, and I'll trouble you for that fifty pound."

"Not so fast, my friend. Your story seems very good, but I want to ask a
few questions first. Had the bigger man--the man who went up to Bourke,
a deep cut over his left eye?"

"Now I come to think of it, he had. I'd forgotten to tell you that."

"So it was he, then? But are you certain it was Miss Wetherell? Remember
she wore a veil. Could you see if her hair was flaxen in colour?"

"Very light it was; but I couldn't see rightly which colour it was."

"You're sure it was a light colour?"

"Quite sure. I could swear to it in a court of law if you wanted me to."

"That's all right then, because it shows me your story is a fabrication.
Come, get out of this house or I'll throw you out. You scoundrel, for
two pins I'd give you such a thrashing as you'd remember all your life!"

"None o' that, governor. Don't you try it on. Hand us over that fifty
quid."

With that the scoundrel whipped out a revolver and pointed it at me. But
before he could threaten again I had got hold of his wrist with one
hand, snatched the pistol with the other, and sent him sprawling on his
back upon the carpet.

"Now, you brute," I cried, "what am I g