whites living together, regardless of law or order. There were about two dozen white men, and double that number of gins, – old and young, – and black fellows, camped around the wooden structures in humpies.
These blacks were part of King Charlie's tribe, but the old chief had cast them off; savage that he was, he had an instinctive feeling that his people were better than Dalton's men. He cursed them as they threw in their lot with the white men, and his sentence of excommunication was heard by those of the tribe who remained with him, and they carried the tidings into many places far distant. Even these blacks, uncouth and savage, had their laws, and rendered obedience to their old king.
It was a dangerous place was Barker's Creek, and its tenants ought to have been rooted out, but Abe Dalton was a cunning man and had contrived to keep Sergeant Machinson from meddling in his affairs.
Jim Dennis had no intention of riding alone into Barker's Creek. He wanted to catch his men before they arrived there.
He had a fresh horse under him, and he made the most of his mount.
He rode over the plain at a great pace, from time to time pulling up and dismounting to look for tracks. His practised eye soon found them, and sure enough there were three horses going in the direction of Barker's Creek.
'It's all right,' he muttered. 'I only hope I shall come up with them. I feel in a fighting humour, and they will have to stand and deliver, "hands up"; they are used to the sounds, they will know what they mean. It will put me in a bit of a hole if they reach Barker's Creek first. Machinson will swear I had a hand in sending the horse there, and that my ride over to Cudgegong was a ruse to deceive them and get the horse away; any cock-and-bull story would serve his purpose so long as it got me into a hole.'
He galloped on at a fast pace, and towards evening saw his men in the distance. They were in no hurry, and evidently did not fear pursuit. The horse was with them and going quietly.
'I have tamed him at anyrate,' said Jim. 'I'll tame them before I have done with them.'
He rode away to the left, for he knew a track by which he thought he could get ahead, and there wait until they came past.
The country near Barker's Creek was covered with scrub, and there was a considerable amount of shelter, much of it never having been cleared or touched in any way, but just left in its wild condition. He knew it would be a near thing between them, as the round would take him several miles out of his way. It was, however, the only course to pursue, so he sent his horse along at his best pace and hoped for success.
There is scarcely any twilight in the colonies, the sun goes down quickly, and day turns into night rapidly.
When Jim Dennis reached the spot he had ridden for he saw it would be almost dark in an hour, but that would serve his purpose.
If he could get hold of the stallion he knew the horse would gallop readily enough alongside his own.
He waited with the best patience he could muster, for he did not know whether they had passed the place. As the time went by he began to be afraid they had beaten him after all, and he had had his ride for nothing.
Presently, however, his quick ears caught the sound of horses' hoofs, and then he knew he had a chance of success. As they drew nearer he made ready to ride straight at them. Peering through the bushes that concealed him, he saw the two men coming along at a careless pace, evidently unaware there was any danger at hand.
When they were about fifty yards away he rushed up at them, and before they could prepare to meet him he covered one man with his revolver and said, —
'Now, you Dalton fellows, give up that horse. There are six shots here, so you have no chance.'
They knew him, and a volley of oaths came from them.
'He's not your horse,' said one of the men.
'That's my business. He is not yours, and you took him out of my yard. Hand him over.'
'You'll suffer for this, Jim Dennis. Abe Dalton is not the man to forget it.'
'You tell Abe Dalton and the whole of your dirty gang that I am not afraid of any of you. Now hand over the horse.'
He rode forward, still keeping his revolver handy.
The horse was handed over, and the man who had spoken before said, —
'We'll be even with you for this.'
'You are a set of cowards,' said Jim. 'There is not a fair fight in you. I am not afraid of half-a-dozen such as you.'
Then he thought, if they have revolvers it may be awkward, but he knew, after a moment's consideration, that had such been the case they would have risked it and used them.
It was Abe Dalton's plan to often send his men out unarmed, so that there was no danger of any shooting, for he knew when it come to murder it was a serious matter.
Jim rode away with his capture, and a volley of abusive language was sent after him.
He was undecided whether to take the horse to Wanabeen, or go to Cudgegong. He could reach the latter place early in the morning, so he made up his mind to go there. He could wait about until some of the hands were out, and as they were generally up early there would not be a long delay.
He reached Cudgegong about two o'clock, and as there was no one to be seen he tied the horse securely and, having hitched up his own some distance away from the other, he went to see if there was a chair on the verandah he could rest in.
It was no uncommon thing for a stranger to sleep on the verandah at one of the stations, and in the morning be provided with a breakfast and then sent on his way.
He stepped quietly along the boards and soon found a comfortable seat.
He was tired, for he had been in the saddle many hours, and, although he was a man who could do with but little sleep, he commenced to feel drowsy.
How long he had been asleep he did not know, but he awoke with a start and listened.
There was a peculiar sound inside the room near which he sat.
He thought it was a man moaning, but was not sure. Then he heard someone moving about, and footsteps approached the window of the room which led on to the verandah.
He remained perfectly quiet and waited expectantly for some explanation of what he had heard.
CHAPTER VIII
AT CUDGEGONG STATION
He had not long to wait. The doors were pushed open and someone looked out.
In the dim light he saw it was Rodney Shaw, and he seemed to be listening intently. Then he went inside, leaving the windows open.
'He must have heard me step on to the verandah,' thought Jim.
He heard him moving about the room again, and, although he had no desire to spy upon him, he thought it better to remain in his present position.
'Perhaps he has been indulging too freely,' said Jim to himself. 'He could take more than his share before he went away.'
'Curse the thing!'
Jim heard these words distinctly, and then came the sound of a man stumbling
