n solitary confinement," the robber said, "I shall have
the more time to think upon the many poor devils who have begged their
lives of me, and yet never got their prayers granted. I shall think of
the meet revenge I have had for my injuries during a long term of
imprisonment at the hulks. I shall think of the many pounds of gold dust
which I have robbed from passing trains; and better than all, I shall
laugh to know that the police force of Melbourne cannot find it to
enrich themselves."

"Devil!" yelled one of the men, more fiery than the rest, "do you mock
us?"

He raised his carbine, and with no gentle hand let the breech fall upon
the fellow's head. The blow loosened the skin, and let loose a torrent
of blood.

"Yes, this is a fair sample of the manner in which the police of
Melbourne treat prisoners. Is there any wonder that they fight
desperately to prevent being taken?"

He dipped his finger into his blood, and held it aloft for his comrades
to see. Had those men been free, our number would have been lessened in
a very few minutes; for such expressions of rage passed over their
faces, that it seemed as though the devil had entered their bodies.

"You did wrong to strike him, Manuel," Murden said, and that was all the
reproof the man received.

"When I'm arraigned before my judges, I shall tell them of the blow,"
muttered the bushranger, wiping the blood from his brow.

"Do so, if you think it will help your case any," answered Murden,
indifferently. "When you get before the judges you speak of, let me
advise you to keep a civil tongue, however, or the worse for you."

"I shall speak my mind," replied the bushranger, who appeared determined
to have the last word.

Orders were now given to get ready for our passage through the woods;
but before we started we threw the bodies of the dead robbers into the
hut, and then set it on fire. Long before the flames ceased, we were
safe out of the woods, and mounted on our horses, heading towards the
old convict's hut.

Our travel was slow, as the bushrangers were compelled to walk with
their hands tied behind their backs, and it was only by threatening to
ride them down, that we could get them to move at any kind of decent
pace.

Smith, whose whole ideas were concentrated on his lost cattle, left us
to see if he could find one yoke which were unaccounted for. When we
entered the woods in search of the gold buried by Jim Gulpin, we had
left two yoke hitched to