itions; and for three months I was caged up there with every
larrikin in the township clamoring at the other side of the wall. That
was pretty treatment for a man that had served his country!

At last, one morning up came the governor again.

"Well, Maloney," he said, "how long are you going to honor us with your
society?"

I could have put a knife into his cursed body, and would, too, if we had
been alone in the bush; but I had to smile, and smooth him and flatter,
for I feared that he might have me sent out.

"You're an infernal rascal," he said; those were his very words, to a
man that had helped him all he knew how. "I don't want any rough justice
here, though; and I think I see my way to getting you out of Dunedin."

"I'll never forget you, governor," said I; "and, by God! I never will."

"I don't want your thanks nor your gratitude," he answered; "it's
not for your sake that I do it, but simply to keep order in the town.
There's a steamer starts from the West Quay to Melbourne to-morrow, and
we'll get you aboard it. She is advertised at five in the morning, so
have yourself in readiness."

I packed up the few things I had, and was smuggled out by a back door,
just before daybreak. I hurried down, took my ticket under the name
of Isaac Smith, and got safely aboard the Melbourne boat. I remember
hearing her screw grinding into the water as the warps were cast loose,
and looking back at the lights of Dunedin as I leaned upon the bulwarks,
with the pleasant thought that I was leaving them behind me forever.
It seemed to me that a new world was before me, and that all my troubles
had been cast off. I went down below and had some coffee, and came up
again feeling better than I had done since the morning that I woke
to find that cursed Irishman that took me standing over me with a
six-shooter.

Day had dawned by that time, and we were steaming along by the coast,
well out of sight of Dunedin. I loafed about for a couple of hours, and
when the sun got well up some of the other passengers came on deck and
joined me. One of them, a little perky sort of fellow, took a good long
look at me, and then came over and began talking.

"Mining, I suppose?" says he.

"Yes," I says.

"Made your pile?" he asks.

"Pretty fair," says I.

"I was at it myself," he says; "I worked at the Nelson fields for three
months, and spent all I made in buying a salted claim which busted up
the second day. I went at it again, though, a