Evening Star Newspaper, August 1, 1896, Page 24

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AYGUST 1, 1896-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. = EE ed) Oe. PART I. “Hallo, Jack. Look alive manager wants ye.” Bother the manager,” was the prompt reply, given in no very amiable tone. I was Jack. Tom, cur new storekeeper, owned the stentorian voice which had just sum- moned me, and the fact that I was at the moment seated in our hut trying to drink a pannikin of rather hot tea for breakfast explains the tone of my reply. tion managers, however, are necessary evils in Australia, and as long as you are on a station it is quite as well to keep in with them as not, so I finished my tea and walked across to the store, some fifty ds away That you, Jack?” end of the station s vided off for an offic Macallister, the manager. Ye did you want me “Yes. Come here, youngster.” I opened the door and found the manager standing side the open safe with a small leather in his hand. “Look here, Jack,” he said, “this has got to go to Maroona today, and since Bob has gone end twisted his blasted ankle, you're the only hand I've got that I can trust to . So you'll kave to go. You've been haven't you?” 3 I know the road all right enough. but I don’t think I could get there in one da there. The The voice came from orehouse that was nd it was that of But you van get to ‘Hutchen’s’ to- night. and you'll be there before 2 o'clock temorrow. 1 daresay the hands will have shearing by that time, and they'll be to move ot money, Is it at th den ¥ nt It dceu I said, looking a little bag. Money? I should rather say it was— twelve hund and fifty pounds in notes and gold and twenty in silver, that’s all, So you'll have to look out you don’t lose It.” yoked at It Goubtfull take a revolver?” I a azer laughed. ed; “bless your sort of thing’ “Hadn't I bet- 2d. “A revolver,” he heart, played out years ago. ter The ma repea tha hing, and if he’ a bit lively ll take all the ve miles at out + youngster,” he added, “you yourself. I'l look for the office I felt just y eight months on th i with a job like this. ing, of course, in riding to ndy but a very new hand there was a good deai 1 with nearly thirteen hun- the shearers’ wages. Cos le, and in five minutes ed him and started across coun- It was early spring ralia is to be rains had heen plen- and now weather had set in as far as the eye n—the strange metal- he native grass—and re me to the far horizon lin ly tinted billows, sleeping un- of the golden hine. I kept rack, for on both the grass rose rank, as high s girths, vy drooping m hted here and there at the edges by bright splashes of color where gorgeous wild flowers peeped through the tangle and swayed gently in morning breeze. The air was full of the life of the ing. Myriads of insects filled the at- with their musical hum or whir- red past me In their headlong flight. Even the dim recesses of the forest, through a patch of which I had to pass, were cheer- ful for once with the chatter of parrots the loud, exultant screams of golden- sted cockatoos. Cossack had been live- Yy enovgh at first, as the marager had ex- Dected, but when he saw that real business Was meant he settled down to the long, st hing canter with which the Austra- lian hi sp e broiling heat of a long sum- mer’s day Hour after hour he kept it up with the ly endurance ef bis race. The ri but eight months of s al made solitude seem to me ond nature. I couldn't miss my iS steering for an outlying Australien Alps which now 1 and gray before me. I knew I sund the end of the spur just » Cinna-gulla creek comes out into and I should be within about es of Huthen's accommodation = on the dividing range, where I was or the night. On, and on—over ng waves of the plain, with and then a glimpse of a tall gray zaroo that bounded off to right or left gh the waving grass, or a litile furry cot that would scud with a quick aif Jump and half run, into the fm- penetrable shelter of the tall herhage. Tw I had stopped at the streams we had crossed to give Coss a drink and ve him a feed from the nosebag rried at the pommel of the saddle, and as the sun was westering and begin- to throw long shadows from the range a acress the plain f reached at last the end of the spur for which I had been steering sc long. The sharp tinkling gush of the stream made Cossack prick forward his ars as we descended the slope into the broad bottom where the Cinna-gulla creek i its flashing bed of polished The long shadow of the range had fallen vd t over the plain and the dying very low in the western I rede up to Hutchen’s. The place hadn't much to recommend it to the tidious, but a year in Australia had ef- ually removed me out ef that class, and I was well pleased to let the stableman take charge of Cossack while I walked into the rough and ready commen room of “The a! ~ Supper—the rough but plentiful jian bush supper—with its invariable m nd its Inevitable damper-bread and tea, and after sitting sleepily for half an hour in the place where 1 had supped was glad to be shown the way to a rough ted in a sill rougher bed room where I I awoke full in my f slept myself. compl with the azing morning sun . and knew that I had over- ‘To spring out of bed and fet was the work of tut a minute or two, and in a quarter of an hour. I had swallowed a hasty break- fast and started again on my journey. The morning was beautiful, and Cossack, who eemed as fresh as when we had started for our ride of yesterday, appeared to en- joy it as much as I did myself. The way to Maroona lay for the first twelve miles or so along the foot of the range, and here the bush ran out into the youngster, | (Copyright, 1896, by the Bacheller Syndicate.) | | be here about the half hour. THE SHEARERS’ WAGES. BY OWEN HALL. AUTHOR OF “THE TRACK OF A STORM” : y ye ye SAA SAA ti: $s plain in long tongues through which a rough road had been cut, broad enough for two carts to pass one another. I wanted to get to the station by 12 o'clock if possible, and it was now after 7, so that a steady seven miles an hour would just about do it in the time. There was no need to push Cossack. He was going at his own favorite pace and seemed to enjoy it. He evidently liked the cool shade of the forest, with its jong arcades of shadow, flecked and splash- ed with golden bars and spots of sunshine, and I fully spmpathized with him. The wood was full of life; parrots chattered and called in harsh conversational tones from tree to tree; cockatoos scolded and swore in the leafy recesses where the flash of their white and golden plumage combin- ed with their voices to betray them; bandi- coots scuttled across the track with a shy, quick motion; an occasional green or brown zard darted up a tree, its bright eye turi ed inquiringly en the intruders; and now and then a striped or spotted snake would glide with a swift sinuous motion that taxed the eye to follow it into the dimmer shadows of the forest. Now we were drawing closer to the range, for I could hear the gush and mur- mur of the stream that ran alorg its foot ieft hand, and I knew that I should have passed the forest road and have strike across the open plain in the full blaze of the morning sunshire. At that moment my ear caught a new sound which belonged neither to the forest nor the stream. It was dull, and sounded distant at first, but it was the tramp of horses’ hoofs, and it came from behind. There was nothing much in that, and yet I felt my hand steal favoiuntarily to my belt where the bag of money hung concealed under my coat. The horse was traveling ter than mine, for the sounds grew louder every minnte, and I turned half round in my saddle to see what my new companion might be like. He wasn't fol- lowiny the road. but riding a little way within the edge of the forest on my right. I could just make out that his horse was a tall bay, and that he was coming with the leng swinging gallop of the old bush stager through the trees. I was wonder- ing whether I had better pull up or take no notice till he came alongside, when sud- denly he hailed me in a deep, strong voice: “Hallo, young fellow!” he shouted. “Hold rt it hard there!” The voice was peremptory, ee igs the Eh sesl jand there a hardly concealed threat in # o. 7 ae a Biles ag e— | the tone. What was the man? Could he be ae or BL sib a Saree Gi Rens a bushranger? Then Macallister’s words Loy arra ow ss 0 came back to me: “Bless your heart, - a Bei ee Ereteee you'll meet be- | youngster, that sort of thing's played out All right, sir." I said, unfastening my | Yon, 880-0 No. it couldn't be @ Yea ind slipping it through the loop on |'#™8er. — Question and answer passed ee ahh eee through my mind at lightning speed, but I Let me see,” he said, “what horse are | Peither replied to the hall, nor checked the Gum aero enced of Cossack’s canter. In another se>- mz . : jond the summons came again, and this cinis jase Aoxtnisht, “but “his '¢M [trig im loner ands (lgoacinin a: barinee ht, then, take Cossack: he’s do- | tone than before: “Hold hard, I say, young- st ri’ The tone decided me. the mischief are you?" IT I touche? Coszack's flank with which he instantly ac- edged by breaking into a gallop. Cos- s gallop was well known in the district, ittle fear of the tall bay over- rhaps my pursuer was of the same opinion, for in another half min- ute I heard a fierce oath that came rolling out of the wood; then there came a sudden sherp report of a pistol, which reached my just as Cossack made a wild, head- xe, throwing me like a stone from I heard the report. I felt myself through the air; I struck against ng—and that was all. PART IT. “Hallo.” It was the first sound that reached my ear. I opened my eyes and Saw a man’s face bending over me. “Hal- to," I answered, as I struggled to rise. “Hold hard, youngster," said the man. They were the last words J had heard, and ike a flash the whole thing came back to me. I sat up and looked stupidly aroun¢ no, it wasn’t a dream. There within half a dozen yards of me lay Cosseck on his side in the very middle of the road dead, evi- dently dead. A big, powerful man stood at my side unscrewing the top of a pocket flask and looking at me with inquiring eyes. A few yards away there stood a shock- headed black holding a big, brown horse. “Here, young fellow, have a drop of this,” the man said. I glanced at him as I obeyed, and noticed that he was dressed in the quiet uniform of the mounted police. “What,” I said, stupidly. “Where's the Tran that shot my horse?” He lcoked at Cossack as he lay on the track, and then back at me. “Sloped, I should eay,”” he replied dryly. “What did he take of yourg with him?” As he spoke my hand went instinctively to the place where my belt had been— Was gone. I sprang to my feet with a cr: “He's got the bag,” I shouted. “He's rob- bed me of the wages—thirteen hundred pounds.”" taking “that’s it, is 1t?” Then he terned to the black. “Here, you Jacky, take a horse—make a look yc Burra horse gone.”* Jacky leaped like a cat upon the horse ps ee holding, and disappeared down the rack. The constable pulled out his watch. “You left Hutchen’s about 7, didn’t you? You'd It’s close on 8 now. Well, half an hour isn’t much of a start, after all. How do you feel yourself, now, young fellow?” he asked suddenly: “all right?” ¥ J felt my arms and legs a little doubtfully. “Well, there’s no bones broken, I fancy, but I've felt better in my time. I must have come on my head, I think. for it's precious shaky, but I'm not much the worse. He ran his eye quickly over me as I spoke. “Right you are,” he said. “You come along with Jacky and mg, and we'll see if we can’t hear something of this ba: of yours. I've a kind of notion that I've got business with your friend, anyway. How the devil you could have been fool enough to let him or anybody else know about the bag, I can’t think. “I didn't let a soul know, dignantly. “Nobody knew about it except Macallister, the manager,” I continued, in answer to his tone, and the look of search- irg inquiry in his eyes that were fixed on as I spoke. he manager?” he sald. I added, “come to think of it, it's just possible Tom might have known, if he was list2ning, for he was in the store at the time.” Who's Tom?” he asked. the accountant and storekeeper at Bundalla. He was in the store when the manager gave me the bag in the office, and the office is a part of the store.” ‘Could he have seen, do you think?” ‘Not he; but he might have heard us talking—the partition’s only thin. He might have heard Macalister tell me not to take a revolver,” I added, a sense of injury mak- ing me for the moment inclined to throw the blame of my disaster on Macallister or anybody else. The sergeant whistled. “Oh,” he said nd how long have you known Tom?’ It's only about three weeks since he was taken on. He came up with a letter from somebody in Sydney The sergeant whistled in a meditative way again. “Ah, I shouldn't wonder,” he said. “But here’s Jacky coming back. Now we'll see what chance there is of tracking Tem.” Jacky rode up as he spoke, and jumped from the horse Eke a monkey. “Well, Jacky, you make-a-find him?” “Findy? You betty, Jacky findy! White fellow tupid fellow him.” “All right,” exclaimed the sergeant, turn- ing to me. “Do you think you're fit for a tramp that may be a longish one?” “What! To catch the scoundrel that shot Cossack? Rather!” “Come on the line, then; we've no time to lese, The sergeant insisted on my mounting his horse ard we started, Jacky trotting slowly aicng in front, his great shagsy head bent forward and moving slowly from side to side as he went. We proceeded for perhaps a quarter of a mile along the bush track till the trees grew thinner and we feund selves in the open. There was I replied, in- busi again in front of us, perhaps half a mile off, and on our left was the chanel of the Cinna-gulla creek, winding round the foot of the range, which sloped gently tpward, its billows of bronze-green forest glittering in the morning sun. The grass gtew thick on the track, and no trace of either horse or man was visible to civilized eyes, but presently Jacky waved his hand with a motion of superior knowledge, and without looking behind him turned off at an angle toward the stream. We followed him without question, and in a few min- utes we had reached the bank. The chan- nel of the stream was shallow and the bank low and covered with a thick carpet of ferns and flowers, and still there were no visible marks of a horse's hoof to be seen. Jacky stepped from the bank to the large Wwater-worn pebbles over which the stream rushed and gurgled as.it ran with a sharp, tinkling music. A few yards down the creek he crossed and ascended the bank into the cool shadows of the trees beyond. There he waited till we joined him. “White fellow make a walk here,” he said, pointing to a faint mark among the leaves and moss; then, without another word he turned, and with his head bent low Started off at a long, swinging trot which it was no easy matter to keep up with on the rough, sloping ground amongst the trees. In this way we had traveled for perhaps an hour, and in the meantime I had almost recovered from the effects of my fall. The Sergeant was not a talkative companion, and the monotonous arcades of the gum forest were not disturbed by conversation. Our guide had never once lifted his eyes from the ground since we started. At the seme dog-like trot, his huge head bent for- ward at the same angle and his slender arms hanging loosely at his sides, he jour- neyed on. Suddenly Jacky pulled up and waited till we reached him. He pointed to a faint track like a bridle path that crossed our line of march and wound away among the trees to the right. It was quite distinguish- able, but evidently was but little used. “White fellow go here?” asked the sergeant, pointing to the path; Jacky nodded. The sergeant knit his brows as if in thought, while Jacky stood and looked at him exact: ly as a dog might at his master. “Well,” he said, at last, “we've got to chance it. There may be more of them, and again there mayn’t—anyhow, we'll’ see.” He looked up at me suddenly. “How do you seem to feel now, young fellow?” he asked. “Fit to walk for a bit, eh?” I declared that I was all right, and the sergeant and I changed places. “Her he said, pulling a revolver out of his belt and handing it to me, u'd better carry this till we see what's ’ He unslung the short carbine he car- tied across his shoulder as he spoke. “Now, Jacky,” he continued, “you make a look white fellow—burra, burra.” Jacky opened his mouth in @ portentous grin, and ap- peared to find keen enjoyment in a sound- less laugh entirely to himself, as he turned and trotted along the bridle track.. For three or four hundred yards the track showed no sign of change. ‘There was the same dismal succession of gray tree trunks, the same scanty undergrowth of flowering heaths and occasional crimson waratahs, with no landmark whatever but the faint bridle path that wound through it all. At last Jacky lifted his head and stopped, and the sergeant pulled up his horse and waited. Jacky threw back his great head and sniffed the air suspiciously through his broad nos- tril “White fellow burn smoke,” he said; “white fellow tupid fellow “Right you are, Jacky,” replied the ser- geant, grimly, as he took a look at the lock of his carbine. ow, Jacky, you make-a- walk easy-make-a-look white __ fellow.” Jacky nodded his big head and went slowly forward along the track. The sergeant and I followed. It was farther off than T had believed it possible even Jacky's nostrils could have scented smoke. At last, however, the gray shadows of the forest were suddenly ex- changed for a blaze of sunlight, and we found ourselves on the edge of a little natural clearing. It was perhaps a hun- dred yards across, and at the opposite side there rose a great shapeless mass of bluish gray stone, against the side of which a rough bush hut had been built. Out of the foof a thin haze of blue smoke stole up the face of the rock, and a horse stood tethered to a sapling that grew at one side. We stood looking at it in silence for a minute, and then the sergeant turned to me and said in a low tone: “Is that the horse, youngster? Do you recognize him?” “I couldn't say.I was sure of him,” I said, looking hard at the horse. “‘He looks about the same color, but I hadn't a chance to see him rightly amongst the trees be- fore the shot was fired.” “Well, never mind; I'll man out.”” I thought he was going to ride forward when the rovgh bark door was opened and a woman came out. She threw oon fetch the back the long black hair that hung round her face and cast a quick, suspicious glance over the place. Her eye seemed to rest on our party in a moment, for she gave a shrill scream and turned as if to go in again. Before she had taken a step, how- ever, the door was pushed open from with- in and a man stepped quickly out. He had She Gave a Shrill Scream and Turned a soft felt hat drawn over his face, which came so low that his face was almost in- visible, yet somehow the figure seemed not unfamiliar to me. The voice, at any rate, I recognized at once as he shouted: ‘Hello! What the devil are you after here?” “That's him,” I gasped, in answer to the quick look the sergeant turned on me. “That's the beggar that shot Cossack!” The sergeant touched the horse with the spur, as he exclaimed: “I’m after you, my fine fellow, so you'd better come along!” PART III. It all happened in a moment. I heard the summons of the officer, I heard a harsh laugh, and the words: “The devil I had!” There was the sharp report of a revolver, and the sergeant’s horse- leaped forward and rolled over on his side. With another harsh laugh the man turned away and be- gan to unfasten his horse from the sapling. My eyes followed him in a stupid helpless way for a moment, still I was roused by the sergeant’s voice: “Here, youngster, why the devil don’t you bring him down?” For the first time I remembered then that I had a pistol in my hand, but even then I seemed confused. I glanced at the ser- geant who was struggling to get clear of his horse, and then at the man, who had just mounted. The man seemed to notice me then for the first time, for he shouted: “Oh, it’s you, is it? Then take that!” There was a flash; a report; and I felt something sting my ear for a moment—he had fired at me. “Shoot him, you fool!’ exclaimed the sergeant, “‘or if ye don’t like to, shoot the horse.’ I saw my way tken. No, I couldn’t shoot a man. I raised my re- volver and fired. The bay horse reared and plunged, and then, answering tc the fierce stroke of his rider’s spur, bounded off and disappeared amongst the gum trees. The sergeant struggled to his feet, and turning angrily to me exclaimes Why the devil didn’t you shoot him * “Shoot him?” I answered, sulkily, I dare say, for at the moment I felt half ashamed that I hadn’t. “You can shoot men if you like—I don’t like the job, and I’m not used to it eithe: “Well, young fellow, your friend isn’t so particular; another inch and he’d have taken your head instead of an ear.” I put up my hand and found that I was bleeding where the bullet had carried away a piece of my ear. For the first time I re- membered the sharp sting that had follow- ed the man’s last shot. “Didn’t know it, eh he continued, observing my look of surprise. “Well, you'll know better an- other time. It's a case of you or me with fellows like that, I can tell you. You'd better bezr a hand now, and let’s see what can be done--do ye think you hit tne horse?” ‘Sure of it,” I sald, shortly. « Ah, it all depends whereabouts. If you were lucky we'll have him yet. Let’s have @ look at the hut first, though,” he added. I followed him across the open patch to the hut, the door of which he pushed has- tily open. The place was a poor one, and the few scraps of furniture of the rudest kind. The ficor was of earth, and upon it, cvouched in a heap near the fire, was the figure of the worran we had seen. She spreng to her feet at our entrance, and, pushing back her hair from her face, con- frented us like a lioness. For a moment she seemed to gasp for breath, and then the words came brokenly: “And did yez— did yez shoot him? Did yez murder him entirely? Oh, Mike, Mike, and is-it to this ye've come at the ind-ov it all’ The sergeant looked at her for 2 moment. ‘Oh,"" he said, “it Mike, was it? I thought as muc jo,” We haven't shot him—not yet, a: , though it’s about time. : 5 “Glory be to God for that same,” she ex- claimed in a very different tone. “‘An’ it’s a fool [ was to belaye that-the likes ov ye coull do that same—nor I wouldn't, nather, but for my dreams the last night as iver was.” “You dreamt he was killed, did ye, Biddy? Well, it's likely enough yet,” he said, as he walked to the table on which there were set out .a-damper loaf and the greater part of a ham, as if ready for a “There, take tha meal not yet partaken of. “I s turbed his breakfast,” he added, “but we'll take it after him in case he should want fe The woman glared at him and made a half motion as if she would have thrown herself upon him. Then she stopped sud- denly, and I could see her hands clench selves with the greatness of the effort. is yersilf will make the hoight ov a foine robber won ov thim days, and ‘tis the lone wimen wid no one nigh to purtect thim ye'll be hardest on, I’m thinkin’, But sure an’ yer wilcome, an’ ye can ate it yersilf, an’ the black naygur that’s wid yez, for it’s little yer like to see ov Mike for a day or two.” Tho sergeant looked keenly round the bare apartment, then picked up the damper and threw it to me with the remark: “You'd better take charge of that, young- ster.” Then without a word he wrapped the ham in a piece of newspaper that lay on the floor and turned aw We left the “oman standing by the smoldering remains of the fire, her eyes blazing with fierce resentment, yet pathetic with the forecast of the future. It was the last we saw of her. In another minute we had plunged into the gray depth of the forest once more. Jacky stood awaiting us just within the shadow of the trees. In answer to the sergeant's question he pointed onward into the long arcade before us. “White fellow horse make a jump here,” he said; ‘white fellow horse no go far.” Nothing more was said. Jacky turned and led the way once more. The day was still young, ani although the trees stood close and the growth overhead was more than usually thick, yet the sunlight gieamed and quiver- ed in long spears and arrows of gold as it shot through tke leafyicover and lit up the dim recesses of the;bush. There was a loud hum of insecty iin the air, and now and then the harsh note of a bird sounded amongst the branches, but otherwise all was silent. Not evan:fancy could conjure up the faintest sound of horse hoofs, any than my most persistent efforts could le me to trace the footprints of horse or man upon the soft yet elastic ground over which Jacky traveled with such con- fidence. : The course he folldwed was up hill. The slope was not a steep‘one, yet by the time we had traveled for several hours it had begun to tell, and I, at least, was far from sorry when the sergeant called a halt. Jacky came obedipntly. “White fellow horse no good," he safil, as he accepted the damper and meat fanded to him and squatted down to eatiit. “No good, Jacky? said. the sergeant. “How you see?’ Seo ji “White fellow make a walk. Horse go’: and Jacky explained his meaning by sway- ing his body from side to side. The ser- geant glanced at his carbine, which lay on the ground beside him, and Jacky grinned. ‘The news seemed to give a new zest to our pursuit, for in a very few minutes we had eaten our simple meal and were on foot again. Upward and upward still. Grad- vally the flecks of sunshine had withdrawn from the ground, and now their glitter had ceased to sparkle amongst the leaves over- head. With the sun the hum of insect life had died away and left a cold stillness be- hind. It was growing colder, too, and an occasional shiver crept over me in spite of the exercise. Little by little the long ave- nues of trees grew grayer and more color- less, and the ends of the vistas grew misty and seemed to be closing !n. The sun had gone down. I looked around me uneasily as I went, and more than once I thought the sergeant cast a quick glance of ques- tion around him. Jacky alone was appar- ently visited by no doubts. On, and on—at the same slow, deliberate trot, his head bent forward, his arms hanging loose at his sides, his eyes fixed on the ground. At last he stopped. “Too much dart he said, as he squatted on the ground and waited for us to come up. There was no appeal from Jacky’s decision, of course, 80 we prepared to camp for the night. Our preparations were necessarily” simple. Jacky collected the materials for a fire, which the rapidly increasing cold rendered necessary. in spite of the danger It involv- ed of a night surprise from the man we were hunting, and possibly companions with whom he might have the means of communicating. t's a case of watch and watch abcut,” was the sergeant’s remark, “and pot the first man you see, young fel- low, if you don’t want him to pot you.” The fire soon turned brightly, and after we had eaten some more of the damper we proceeded to make the best of it. It fell to my share to keep the first watch, and nothing happened to disturb it. I was in no danger of falling asleep, however, in spite of my exertions throughout the day. It may have been the novelty and excite- ment of the events that had occurred since I had left Hutchen’s in the morning, it More Than Once Had Almost Point- ed the Revolver. Pa may also have been in part the possible dangers that surrounded us still that seem- ed effectually to remceve any tendency to sleep. I gat, my back propped against a tree, my feet exterding nearly to the fire; my hand on the sgrgeant’s revolver and my eyes moving reptlessly round the nar- row circle lighted the blaze. A thou- sand times duringztWa* endless watch I must have fancid@J heard mysterious sounds and footste) the stillness of the forest, and as 0: I seemed to catch timpses of fiery eye@*that watched me out of the abyss of derkreéss that closed me in. More than once I had almost pointed the revolver when the shifting of the light coi vinced me that my fancied assailant ex- isted only in my imagination. I don’t know whether Jacky ever really slept, but each time I moved I seemed to see his bead-like eyes gleaming from below the penthouse of his hair, where he lay part colled in a dog- like heap close to the hottest corner of the fire. PART Iv. I was relieved at last, and even then I thought I shou!d never get to sleep. Again and again 3: started from a half doze, feeling as if an eye were gleaming at me out of the darkness, or a stealthy foctstep were creeping up behind me through the trees. I must have fallen asleep at last, however, and once asleep I must have slept soundly. It was with @ start and a shiver that I woke at last. It was cold. The first gray light of dawn was stealing mistily throvgh the foliage overhead and the uncertain light from the fire still flickered and gleamed on the nearest trees and on something white that lay in heaps in various directions. I rutbed my eyes and stared round me in puzzled wonder. It was snow. The ser- geant rested against a tree, his arms fold- ed, his head bent forward, evidently asleep, while Jacky sat crouched together close to the red embers. His chin was resting on his drawn-up knees, but his eyes gleam- ed _keensand bright in the firelight. My legs were stiff, but I managed to rise and take a few steps to convince myself that the white heaps I had seen were actually snow—the first I had seen since leaving It was snow, sure enough, and {t had fallen heavil; Wherever the branches and leaves had thinned overhead {t had come down in great soft drifts, and looking up I could see that they clung in fleecy masses to the larger branches, which bent beneath the unaccustomed weight. I lecked round in dismay. The grisly light from the snow mingled with the gray light ot the dawn and made the forest arcades seem more hopeless than even the dark- ness had done. By whatever instinct Jacky had been able to track the man we were in pursuit of it must be at fault now. TI looked at him and his eye met mine, but he seemed only to crouch the closer. The sergeant awoke with a start just as my eyes rested on him. “Hallo! What the devil?” he exclaimed, as he shook him- self and rose to his feet! “Snow, as I'm a living sinner. I didn’t think we were high enough up for that.” Then he glanced round him with a look of surprise and dis- gust till his eyes rested on Jacky. “Ah!” he continued: “I thought so. That comes of ing these confounded Queensland blacks. You might as well put a crocodile in an ice pond as expect any good of one in the snow. Here, Jacky, you make a look wood, burn plenty smoke.” Jacky shook his big head, but didn’t move. “Yes, that's your sort,” he added, contemptuously. “You'd sit there and freeze sooner than face it. Well, youngster, it can’t be helped, but there's one mercy—the chances are Mike's at least as badly off as we are.” There-was, as the sergeant said, no help for it. He ard I collected wood enough to keep our fire burning and then there was nothing to be done but keep as close to it as we could and wait for a change. It was more than lucky we had some food left, though as the day went slowly on we found that we had none too much of that, and by the time the gray daylight had given place once more to the darker shades of Lay a Dark Body. night we—or at any rate I—could have wished for a bigger supper than the last of the damper afforded. I heard no foot- s in the forest that night durmg my nor was my imagination troubled ns of hostile eyes, and when my ame to rest I slept soundly. It was bright daylight when I awoke, and the moment I did so I knew that the change had come. It was warm. Jacky had let the fire go low, and I could see his small, active figure walking slowly round, his ey fixed on the ground, though still keeping clear of the spots where the snow had not fully melted. The sergeant was sitting on a stone examining his carbine with much interest. ‘‘Well, youngster,” he said, “if you've had sleep enough it’s about time we were moving, for we may have a long tramp before we get anything to eat.” The recollection was one calculated to has- ten our movements, and in less than five minutes we had started. Jacky vent slowly at first, for nothing would induce him to set foot on the re- mains of the snow which still lingered in patches in the shadier hollows, but as the sun rose higher these becaine less ccmmon and wet got on better. He was Nearer and Nearer We Crept. a little way ahead of us when he suddenly stopped. When we reached him he stood at the edge of one of the hollows, through which, during the rains, the mountain streams 1un down to swell the tributaries of the Murrumbidgee. The snow had. fallen thickly here, and In the bottom, still partly imbedded in the drift, there lay a dark body, which we at once recognized as that of a horse. A hasty examination showed that my shot had avenged Cossack. Jacky examined the ground carefully, and at last crossed the hollow and penetrated farther into the forest, but after traveling for nearly an hour we found that we had come back again to the spot from which we started. And so it went on for what appeared to me at least to be an almost endless time, now backward and now for- ward in wanderings that seemed inter- minable. And still Jacky traveled on, his head bent forward, his eyes never lifted from the ground; and still the sergeant fol- lowed doggedly in his steps, his face set grim and stern, his carbine gripped tightly in his hand. I had no choice but to follow them. For the last two hours or more our ceurse, in spite of its wanderings, had taken us steadily down hill. It was cer- tainly after midday now, and the hot sun was lighting up the depths of the forest and falling in bright streams and patches of gold every here and there in our path. Jacky stopped suddenly, just as we came in sight of a huge mass of rock which rose gray and rugged above the trees in front. Between us and the crag there was a gully deeper and more densely wooded than any we had yet passed. Jacky stood still and peered cautiously down the dim slope,where the trees grew thicker and the dense foli- age shut out the sunbeam. The sergeant glanced at him, and then he passed him by. ‘Come on,” he exclaimed, ‘tyoungster. Keep your finger on the trigger, and when you see him mind you fire this time.” With his hand on the lock of his carbine the ser- geant crept down through the trees; with my finger on the trigger of the revolver I followed him. The gully was unusually large and deep. In my excitement the time it took us to to descend into the bottom seemed endless. It ts true we went slowly, watching every tree, peering into every dim vista, expect- ing each moment to hear the report of a pistol shot wake the echoes of the wood. On, and on, and yet we saw nothing, and nothirg happened. We reached the bottom and began cautiously to ascend the slope beyond. The snow had fallen heavily here, and still there were patches of it in the darkest places where the shadows fell the thickest. We had gone perhaps half way up the slope when, as I strain: my eyes to look along a dim avenue be- tween the gums, I saw something that made me start and utter an exclamation. The sergeant joined me in an instant, and side by side we made our way toward the spot. "Nearer and nearer we crept up between the trees, planting our feet cautiously as we went that no sound might give him the alarm; scarcely daring to breathe in cur excitement. And now we could make out plainly that it was a man. He was seated on the ground, his back resting —— Highest of all in Leavening Power.—Latest U.S. Gov’t Report Royal Baking Powde ABSOLUTELY PURE ; against a large bowlder, his hand appar- ently grasping something lying by his side Another step or two and we could see that his head —no doubt his fatal revolver. was bent slightly forward on his breast. He was asleep; we should capture him without a struggle. We crept nearer and nearer—someihing moved. Was he going to wake, after all? The sergeant was draw- Ing himself together for a spring, I could see, when suddenly he stopped. Something moved again, but now we could make it out, even in the shadow—it was a We had disturbed it, away into the shadows. There was no need of caution now. Two or three quick steps and we were at his and what was Tom whom I had sald good-bye to two days before as I rode away with the shearers’ wages. We looked at him solemnly; we touched him reverent- ly—he was stiff and dead. His hand was by his side, but it didn’t hold a revolver, as side. It was Mike! Yes, more, it was Tom also. we had supposed. “Here, youngster,” said the sergeant, “ you know the look of this?" It was a leathern bag. mument—the bag with the wages. (The end.) Ee ISS HOW IT WoRKs. Profit Store Bargains. From the Chicago Tribune. A man with a bundle under his arm made his way to the gas and oil stove counter in one of the big department stores the other day and addressed the young woman in charge. “Here is a ten-foot piece of flexible gas ” he “I would like to exchange it for a pipe I got from you last Thurs said. longer one and pay the difference.” y, “There's only one longer size in stock,” she replied, “and it’s only two feet longer. What did you have to pay for this?” “Seven cents a foot. “Well, it’s two cents cheaper now. We reduced the price this morning.” “Then a twelve-foot piece would be only sixty cents? es, Sir. “That's all right. they'll give you an exchange check.” The customer followed Girections. “I want to change this gas pipe for a longer one, have been sent to you.” S Thu since then I only want—” “That's all right. Name, please?” He gave his name. “Address, please?” And he gave his address. “Here's your exchange check.” venty cents; only really entitled to—” you got the exchange for vcu. He took it back. The sales girl at the gas pipe counter made sale ticket for sixty cents twe slips of paper to the wrapped up the twelve-foot piece, out a regular and sent the cashier. “Here's your gas pipe,” she said, “and here is your cha: “But I don’t— “Are you waited on, lady?” He tcok the ten cents and made his de- vious way out of the building, more deeply impressed with the inexplicable mysteries of the department store exchange system than he had ever been before. New to the Country. I had overtaken an old farmer in the road, and as we jogged along together we turned a bend and came upon eight or ten who had a prisoner in their midst, and were making preparations to hang him men, to the limb of a tree. “Here—whet’s ell this?” man, as we came to a halt. “Goin’ to hang the kuss!” was the brief reply. “What fur ‘Stealin’ that hoss over thar’.” The “hoss over thar’ ” of the latter: “Say, didn this mornin’ Yes,” was the reply. “And didn’t I sell you that hoss fur thir- ty dollars?” “Yes.” bird. and now with a hoarse croak it rose clumsily, and fluttered I knew it in a in Exchanging Department ‘Well, I ought to pay the ten cents differ- ence, just the same. All I want is—" Just take it to the ex- change department on the next floor and piece of flexible * he said to the | young woman betind the counter, “and I| What did you pay for it?” she asked. but I bought it last day, and the price has been reduced ‘But this calls for seventy cents, and I'm ake it back to the department where , and the young lady will make | asked the old was tied to a tree, and the farmer took a good look at him, and then at the prisoner, and asked you come along to my place “I am sure I did. How does it come about, then, that they ar’ goin’ to hang you fur hoss stealin’ 2” “I dunno. “He bought that hoss of asked the leader of the bani ranging the nocse. uu, did “He surely did, and no doubt he’s got my bill of sale in his pocket. Yes; I sold that critter at 8 o'clock this mornin’. know me.” “Look a-here!” exclaimed the leader, as he turned on the prisoner, “did you buy that ho: “Yes.” ‘And you've got a bill of sale?” “Yes.”” “Then why in blazes didn’t you say s0 he?” , Who was ar- him My | name’s Thompson, and I guess some of you when we run you down fur a horse thief?” “Wall,” .replied the man, proceedings, what the custom was: They hauled him off his feet twice, just to make him acquainted with the way the country, and then rode off in search of new game. +e Hanging Scenes. From the New York Herald. Old Texan (to fellow traveler, a Englander)—“Any news?” a man in effi Old Texan—“That hain’t nuthin’; cnter one gallers.” as he looked around and yawned, as if bored with the I hain’t bin in this kentry but three or four days, and I didn’t know New New Englander (who has just laid down the paper)—“‘Seems they’ve been hanging they hanged three in Texerkanny yisterday, all of THE DREADED LEPRosy. Its Existence Not a Country, From the’ Pittsburg News. The reported case of leprosy in this city adds interest to a Paris cable ‘lispatch stating that a French physician has dis- covered a new cure for that dread disease. In the interest of humanity it is to be hoped that the discovery will prove suc- cessful, and heal those who heretofore have had no other future to look forward to than a living death—a gradual decay of their bodies. Leprosy in the United States is not as rare as it is commonly believed. It ts claimed that there are no less than 50 lepers in this country, but only a few of the genuine disease have been recorded after a thorongh d nort Louis- ana. These cases, however, are sufficient nce that the people of the north are Subject to the disease and anybody whose constitution is run down by s ess or poor nourishment, especially if liv nan unhealthy neighborhood, may become. in- fected with the diseas: In Louisiana the disease has | mn cone stantly in evidence since 1758, and, al- though it is denied by some autho it is generally admitted that the majority of the affected peop’ red in that state. ‘Th was | imported into Louis rench Cana- dians, who were driven from their north- ern home, is very likely based on fact, for | there exists a wick to this ¢ in Louisiana hi not per colony at } The numt of increased constar Mex very long ago state tempt te curtail the spreadin, ease by means of isolation. dian Camp” farm near Herville was bought for this purpcse, but although a © Ww to reside the was enacted compelling all lepe: there only about thirty are now in the camp —and n y people aMicted with the plague are living in small i ven in New ans, where the bout without restriction. There are a number of lepers in and about Key West, Fla. in the Pacitic coast states, as well as in Minnesota, bot their disease is not of character, Two cases of real corded Han- nah N. Garey applied for 2 pension at that place on December 1% 1 bas her claim on the iact that she was a daughter of a veteran who had receatly cic A ical examination resulting in « diagno- sis proving leprosy followed the application. Her fect were swollen an tull of running sores; several of her toes had dropped off and other symptoms were noiiceabie. She was then eighteen years 91d. No symptoms of the disease red until ~he was | fifteen, while her five-year-old sisi-r was in a condition similar to her own. It was learned that the father of the girls had contrac d lepi while in the th dur- ing the war, and his children rited the 4 cn lepers of th at the plague ent cares fe live lepe orth Brot is not e or at jeast warm clim et that th are thousan orway. Physicians « ors mative. known, a of lepros origin in the ristorie under telluric itions to Y r inter-t 1 coun- The most memorable f; the his- tory of the dis liaeval outbreak in E seve enth to the h century. lepers at sent scattered over the world are likely survivals of this rise and suosidence of leprosy as an epidemic discas If the French doctor's d y proves to be of practical value he will ve a bene- factor to the human race. oe S CRUSOE’S WHERE’ ISLE? English Pxpedition in the Aw From the New York Press. We have had, in the last five years, a = Out to Find fe. recrudescence of Columbus, of Napoleon and things Napoleonic; now, it appears, there may be an infliction of Robinson Crusoe. A learned society of London, Eng- lard, has come to the conclusion that rea ers of De Foe’s charming fiction have all alcng been misled as to the island on which their hero was landed when he experi- enced shipwreck. It has been hitherto assumed, much to De Foe's discredit, that he stole (or “ap- propriated”) the story of one Alexander Selkirk, who pai Island of Juan ocean. But me:ni s clare they have discovered that the nove ist did Lot steal his narrative at all; and, ncreover, that the island where the orig- inal Robinson was wrecked lies, not in the Pacific, but in the AUanuc. They are go- ing to send out an expedition next winter, | as soon as the sickly season closes, to a: certain beyond all peradventure ju this islend is located. In the interest of all true narratives (of t where fiction) and for the benefit of ali lovers of Crusoe, it Is to be hoped that their mis- sion will be a success The true island is nated somewhere off t st of South America, not far distant from the mouth of the Orinoco; for Crusoe himself says in Lis journal that the last recorded obser- ation, taken just before his shipwreck, vas in latitude 1i degrees north, between the islands of Barbadoes and Trinidad. — soe A Business Man Now. From the Cincinnati Enquirer. “My son,” said the graybeard, “you are about to go forth to do battle with the world. “Yes, father,” answered the young man. “One of the first things you showld learn, my boy,” the old man continued, “is to learn to say ‘no.’ ” I think I understand.” “I dunno whether you do or not. The point I am trying to get at is that the habit of saying ‘naw’ and ‘nit’ was all right while you were in college, but !t ain’t the correct thing for a business man.” eee Sarees eee Fool's Mate.—Life. Pa