he greatest composure. The vicissitudes of his life had
taught him patience.

At about a quarter past ten that night Ryder was sitting on the rug with
his back to the rock, smoking reflectively, when a voice called almost at
his elbow:

'Hist! Yarra bin come, boss!'

'Good boy!' Ryder replaced his revolver on a convenient ledge, and as
Yarra appeared before him, grinning in-the moonlight, he added a few
words of thanks and of praise in the native tongue.

'What happen by Boobyalla?'

'Mine bin chase it that feller all day.' Yarra pointed at Solo, and his
white teeth glittered like tiny mirrors. 'Track him longa trooper plenty
far.' He pointed beyond Boobyalla 'My word, Yarra make it big one damn
fool that trooper.' The thought of the manner in which he had tricked the
police tickled the black boy, and he emitted a yell of laughter that
startled the Bush sleepers for a mile round, and filled the trees with
movements and murmurs of complaint. Ryder, knowing the susceptibilities
of the race, to gratify the boy laughed too.

'Yarra plenty clever,' he said.

'My word! Yarra follow track all away topside Shepherd's Scrub. Go this
way, that way, make much plurry humbug. Say: "This feller gone lame, limp
it bad. Some time he creep by scrub, lie down." Trooper go search it
scrub all day, nex' day, nex' day. They catch it that fellar by'n-by.'
Again he pointed at Ryder, and again his laugh echoed in the gorge. 'Mine
tink it trooper search him scrub plenty long time. Boss tink I go hunt by
scrub to-morrow, mine come sit down longa here.'

All of which meant that Yarra had been employed by the troopers to follow
the track of Ryder, and had led them as far astray as possible, and left
them with the impression that the fugitive was wounded and lying in
hiding in Shepherd's Scrub, a dense ti-tree growth to the north-east of
Boobyalla, extending for two or three miles.

Ryder rewarded his accomplice with a nobbler of brandy and a cigar, and
the black sat smoking with a grand air, while the former explained that
he would remain where he was until his arm was in a more serviceable
state, trusting to Yarra to keep him apprised of what was going forward,
and to warn him instantly danger threatened. During the last few hours
the idea of inducing Lucy Woodrow to visit him there in the Bush had been
stirring in Ryder's mind, and he reckoned upon turning his wound to good
advantage. For the troopers he had the greatest contempt, and