to be. I wonder! She is well-bred enough to have been anybody; and the
Bishop of Adelaide recommended her, you know."

Soon after this Druce Stephens arrived at Wandenong and occupied the
attention of Janet until suppertime, when he startled the company by
the tale of his adventures on the previous evening with Roadmaster,
the mysterious bushranger, whose name was now in every man's mouth; who
apparently worked with no confederates--a perilous proceeding, though it
reduced the chances of betrayal. Druce was about to camp on the plains
for the night, in preference to riding on to a miserable bush-tavern
a few miles away, when he was suddenly accosted in the scrub by a
gallant-looking fellow on horseback, who, from behind his mask, asked
him to give up what money he had about him, together with his watch and
ring. The request was emphasised by the presence of a revolver held
at an easy but suggestive angle. The disadvantage to the squatter was
obvious. He merely asked that he should be permitted to keep the ring,
as it had many associations, remarking at the same time that he would
be pleased to give an equivalent for it if the bushranger would come to
Wandenong. At the mention of Wandenong the highwayman asked his name.
On being told, he handed back the money, the watch, and the ring,
and politely requested a cigar, saying that the Osgoods merited
consideration at his hands, and that their friends were safe from
molestation. Then he added, with some grim humour, that if Druce had no
objection to spending an hour with Roadmaster over a fire and a billy of
tea, he would be glad of his company; for bushranging, according to his
system, was but dull work. The young squatter consented, and together
they sat for two hours, the highwayman, however, never removing his
mask. They talked of many things, and at last Druce ventured to ask
his companion about the death of Blood Finchley, the owner of Tarawan
sheep-run. At this Roadmaster became weary, and rose to leave; but as if
on second thought, he said that Finchley's companion, whom he allowed to
go unrobbed and untouched, was both a coward and a liar; that the slain
man had fired thrice needlessly, and had wounded him in the neck (the
scar of which he showed) before he drew trigger. Druce then told him
that besides a posse of police, a number of squatters and bushmen had
banded to hunt him down, and advised him to make for the coast if he
could, and leave the country. At this R