hing us from among the trees," muttered Kilbride, looking
sharply about him. Bowen screwed up his eyes and followed suit.

"I hardly think it, Mr. Kilbride."

"But it's possible, and here we sit for him to pot us! Let's dismount,
whether or no."

They slid to the ground. The trooper found himself at the mouth of the
gunyah.

"What if he were in there after all!" said he.

"He isn't," said Kilbride, stepping in front and stooping quickly. "But
you might creep in, Jack, and see if he's left any sign of life behind
him."

The men were standing between the horses, their revolvers cocked.
Bowen's answer was to hand his weapon over to Kilbride and to creep into
the gunyah on his hands and knees.

"Here's something or other," his voice cried thickly from within. "It's
half buried. Wait a bit."

"As sharp as you can!"

"All right; but it's a box, and jolly heavy!"

Kilbride peered nervously to right, left, and centre; then his eyes fell
upon his companion wriggling back into the open, a shallow, oblong box
in his arms, its polish dimmed and dusted with the mould, as though they
had violated a grave.

"Kick it open!" exclaimed Kilbride, excitedly.

But there was no need for that; the box was not even locked; and the
lifted lid revealed an inner one of glass, protecting a brass cylinder
with steel bristles in uneven growth, and a long line of lilliputian
hammers.

"A musical-box!" said the staggered Sub-Inspector.

"That's it, sir. I remember hearing that he'd collared one on one of
the stations he stuck up last time he was down here. It must have lain
in the ground ever since. And it only shows how hard you must have
pressed him, Mr. Kilbride!"

"Yes! I headed him back across the Murray--I soon had him out o' this!"
rejoined the other in grim bravado. "Anything else in the gunyah?"

"All he took that trip, I fancy, if we dig a bit. You never gave him
time to roll his swag!"

"I must have a look," said Kilbride, his excitement fed by his reviving
vanity.

The other questioned whether it were worth while. This settled the
Sub-Inspector.

"There may be something to show where he's gone," that casuist
suggested, "for I don't believe he's anywhere here."

"Shall I hold the shooters, sir?"

"Thanks; and keep your eyes open, just in case. But it's my opinion that
the bird's flown somewhere else, and it's for us to find out where."

Kilbride then crept into the gunyah upon his hands and knees, and found
it