while Nic walked away feeling more comfortable in his own mind than he
had since his father had returned--though that did not mean much.

He was fully on the _qui vive_, and several times went out into the
dark, still night to listen for the tramp of horses, but the police did
not come, and he went to bed to dream of Leather being shot down in the
bush because he would not surrender.

The next morning, as soon as he was up, Nic went to look for his black
messenger, but he was missing, and the other two blacks professed
ignorance of his whereabouts.

"He has gone and not come back," thought Nic; and he felt hopeful that,
knowing his danger, the convict would escape right away along the gorge,
and hide in some far-away fastness where he would be safe. But about
the middle of the morning, to the boy's horror, he saw Bungarolo come
crawling up to the station driving a flock of sheep.

Nic hurried up to him.

"Did you go and tell Leather?" he whispered.

"No go tell Leather fellow. Leather say mine come nigh get mumkull."

"But I told you to go!"

"Leather mumkull Bungarolo. Mine not want mumkull."

Nic uttered a low groan.

"Brooky look at mine. Come along, see where mine go. Doctor tell mine
fetch sheep fellow. Mine go fetch sheep fellow."

"It's of no use--I must go," said Nic to himself; and then, casting
aside all hesitation, he started off at once straight for the fern
gully, crossed the bridge, and then made a sharp turn off to the right
along another path and down by the little river, where, upon reaching
the clump of rough growth which bordered the pool where he had fished
that day, he suddenly crouched down in among the tree ferns and
listened.

There was cause for his suspicion.

He had not been hiding five minutes before he heard a rustling sound,
and directly after he caught sight of the barrel of a gun, which was
followed by the man who bore it.

There was no mistake. It was Brookes following him, to see which way he
went.

Nic's countenance grew dark as he waited, meaning to slip back; when, to
his surprise, Bungarolo suddenly crept into sight, following Brookes's
trail, and he too disappeared.

The boy did not understand this, but he knew enough. Brookes had gone
off on a wrong trail, and now was the time.

Running back, whenever he could do so unseen, Nic passed round the far
side of the house, and started right straight away across country, so as
to strike the side of the grea