ays the Commissioner. 'Great
pity you had to be off just when you did. But that's just like these
infernal scoundrels of bush-rangers. They always play up at the most
inconvenient time. How did you get on with them?'

'Get on with them?' roars Sir Ferdinand, almost making a hole in his
manners--he was that tired out and done he could hardly sit on his
horse--'why, we've been sold as clean as a whistle. I believe some of
the brutes have been here all the time.'

'That's impossible,' says the Commissioner. 'There's been no one here
that the police are acquainted with; not that I suppose Jackson and
Murphy know many of the cross boys.'

'No strange men nor horses, no disguises?' says Sir Ferdinand. Here he
brings out a crumpled bit of paper, written on--

If sur firdnand makes haist back heel be in time to see Starlite's
Raneboe win the handy capp.
BILLY THE BOY.

'I firmly believe that young scoundrel, who will be hanged yet, strung
us on after Moran ever so far down south, just to leave the coast clear
for the Marstons, and then sent me this, too late to be of any use.'

'Quite likely. But the Marstons couldn't be here, let alone Starlight,
unless--by Jove! but that's impossible. Impossible! Whew! Here, Jack
Dawson, where's your Indian friend?'

'Gone back to the inn. Couldn't stand the course after the handicap.
You're to dine with us, Commissioner; you too, Scott; kept a place, Sir
Ferdinand, for you on the chance.'

'One moment, pardon me. Who's your friend?'

'Name Lascelles. Just from home--came by India. Splendid fellow! Backed
Darkie for the handicap--we did too--won a pot of money.'

'What sort of a horse is this Darkie?'

'Very grand animal. Old fellow had him in a tent, about a mile down the
creek; dark bay, star in forehead. Haven't seen such a horse for years.
Like the old Emigrant lot.'

Sir Ferdinand beckoned to a senior constable.

'There's a tent down there near the creek, I think you said, Dawson.
Bring up the racehorse you find there, and any one in charge.'

'And now I think I'll drive in with you, Dawson' (dismounting, and
handing his horse to a trooper). 'I suppose a decent dinner will pick
me up, though I feel just as much inclined to hang myself as do anything
else at present. I should like to meet this travelled friend of yours;
strangers are most agreeable.'

Sir Ferdinand was right in thinking it was hardly worth while going
throu