up in a big rough coat.
It was a cool morning. We rode up sharpish, and showed our revolvers,
singing out to him to 'bail up'. He pulled up quick and stared at us. So
we did at him. Then the three of us burst out laughing--regular roared
again.

Who should it be but old George Storefield.

'Well, this is a prime joke,' says he. 'I knew you were out somewhere on
this road; but I never thought I should live to be stuck up by you, Dick
Marston.'

I looked foolish. It was rather a stunner when you come to think of it.

'I beg a thousand pardons,' says Starlight. 'Ridiculous mistake. Want
of something to occupy our time. "For Satan finds some mischief still,"
etc. Isn't that the way the hymn runs? Wonderfully true, isn't it?
You'll accept our apologies, Mr. Storefield, I trust. Poor Dick here
will never get over it.'

'How was I to know? Why, George, old man, we thought it was the Governor
turned squatter, or old Billy Wentworth himself. Your trade pays better
than ours, let alone being on the square. Well, shake hands; we'll be
off. You won't tell the girls, there's a good fellow, will you?'

'I can't promise,' says old George; 'it's too good a joke.' Here he
laughed a good one. 'It isn't often a man gets stuck up by his friends
like this. Tell you what; come and have some lunch, and we'll talk it
over.'

His man rode up then with the spare horse. Luckily, he was a good way
behind, as fellows will keep when they're following a trap, so that they
can't be any good when they're wanted. In this case it was just as well.
He hadn't seen anything.

'Hobble the horses out and put on their nose-bags, Williams,' says he,
'and then get out the lunch. Put the things under that tree.'

They took out the horses, and the chap got out a basket with cold beef
and bread and half a tongue and a bottle of good whisky and water-bag.

We sat down on the grass, and as we'd been riding since sunrise we did
pretty well in the feed line, and had a regular good bit of fun. I never
thought old George had so much go in him; but good times had made him
twice the man he used to be.

After a bit he sends the groom down to the Cowall to water the horses,
and, says he--

'Captain, you'd better come and manage Willaroon down there, with Dick
for stockman. There's a fortune in it, and it's a good way off yet.
Nobody would think of looking for you there. You're a new chum, just out
from home, you know. Plenty of spare country. I'll send you som