bery at all. The mail-bags were
sufficient for Stingaree, who on this occasion worked alone, but led a
pack-horse, to which the driver and the inside passenger were compelled
to strap the long canvas bags, under his eye-glass and his long
revolver. Few words were spoken from first to last; the Hon. Guy never
put in his at all; but he watched the outlaw like a lynx, without
betraying an undue attention, and when all was over he gave a sigh.

[Illustration: Mr. Kentish watched the little operation of "sticking up"
without a word.]

"So that's Stingaree!" he said, more to himself than to his comrades in
humiliation; but the bushranger had cantered back into the scrub, and
his name opened the flood-gates of a profanity which made Kentish wince,
for all his knowledge of the world.

"Do you never swear at him till he has gone?" he asked when he had a
chance. The driver leant across the legs of his friend.

"Not unless we want a bullet through our skulls," he answered in boorish
derision; and the man between them laughed harshly.

"I thought he had never been known to shoot?"

"That's just it, mister. We don't want him to begin on us."

"Why didn't _you_ give him a bit of _your_ mind?" the man in the middle
inquired of Kentish. "I never heard you open your gills!"

"And we expected to see some pluck from the old country," added the
driver, wreaking vengeance with his lash.

Mr. Kentish produced his cigar-case with an insensitive smile, and,
after a moment's deliberation, handed it for the first time to his
uncouth companions. "Do you want those mail-bags back?" he asked, quite
casually, when the three cigars were in blast.

"Want them? Of course I want them; but want must be my boss," said the
driver, gloomily.

"I'm not so sure," said Kentish. "When does the next coach pass this
way?"

"Midnight, and I drive it. I turn back when I get to Clear Corner, you
see."

"Then look out for me about this spot. I'm going to ask you to put me
down."

"Put you down?"

"If you don't mind pulling up. I'm not going on at present; but I'll go
back with you to Glenranald instead, if you'll keep a lookout for me
to-night."

Instinctively the driver put his foot upon the brake, for the request
had been made with that quiet authority which this silent passenger had
suddenly assumed; and yet it seemed to them such a mad demand that his
companions looked at Kentish as they had not looked before. His face
bore a close inspectio