a
pound to let them know at the police camp that you were making out by
Willaroon.'

'I knew he had it in for me,' said I; 'but I depended on his not doing
anything for fear of hurting you.'

'So I thought, too; but he expected you'd be trapped at Willaroon before
there would be time for you to catch me up. If he hadn't met that Jemmy
Wardell, I daresay he wouldn't have thought of it. When he told me I was
in such an infernal rage that I fired point blank at him; didn't wait
to see whether he was dead or alive, and rode straight back here to warn
you. I was just in time--eh, Jim, old man? Why, you look so respectable
they'd never have known you. Why didn't you stay where you were, James?'

'I wish to God I had!' says poor old Jim. 'It's too late to think of
that now.'

We hadn't over much time for talking, and had to range up close to do it
at all at the pace we were going. We did our best, and must have ridden
many a mile before dark. Then we kept going through the night. Starlight
was pilot, and by the compass he carried we were keeping something in a
line with the road. But we missed Warrigal in the night work, and more
than once I suspected we were going round and not keeping a straight
course.

We didn't do badly after all, for we struck the main road at daylight
and made out that we were thirty miles the other side of Cunnamulla,
and in the right direction. The worst of it was, like all short cuts
and night riding, we'd taken about twice as much out of our horses as we
need have done if we'd been certain of our line.

'This ought to be Murrynebone Creek,' says Starlight, 'by the look of
it,' when we came to a goodish broad bit of water. 'The crossing place
is boggy, so they told me at the hotel. We may as well pull up for a
spell. We're in Queensland now, that's one comfort.'

It took us all we knew to get over; it was a regular quicksand. Rainbow
never got flustered if he was up to his neck in a bog, but my horse got
frightened and plunged, so that I had to jump off. Jim's horse was a
trifle better, but he hadn't much to spare. We weren't sorry to take the
bridles out of their mouths and let them pick a bit on the flat when we
got safe over.

We didn't unsaddle our horses--no fear; we never did that only at night;
not always then. We took the bits out of their mouths, and let them pick
feed round about, with the bridle under their feet, stockhorse fashion.
They were all used to it, and you'd see 'em pu