ad told him that there were scores of notoriously bad
characters on the field, and that it was known that he (Vale) was paying
him for the cattle in gold, and had advised him to keep a sharp look-out
for any strangers.

For another two hours he and the black boy saw the tracks still going in
the same direction, till open country was reached--a wide plain covered
with clay pans. Here the tracks turned off sharply to the right, and
Gerrard pulled up.

"Which way Frenchman's Cap, Tommy?"

Tommy pointed to the right.

Frenchman's Cap was a small mining camp, sixty miles distant, and
Gerrard was satisfied that the four horsemen were diggers, bound for
that spot, and Tommy agreed with him.

But he was wofully mistaken in his conclusions.

Cheyne was one of the cleverest bushmen in Australia, and when Forreste
and his party reached this spot, they too had stopped, at Cheyne's
bidding.

"Gerrard has a nigger with him who most likely will see our tracks. If
we turn off here, and cross the clay pans, he will think we are going to
Frenchman's Cap. It will mean us making a half circle of sixteen miles,
but we will get to Rocky Waterholes a long way ahead of him."

"How do you know he'll camp there?" asked Forreste.

"He's sure too, even if only for an hour or two to spell his horses, and
we'll get him as easy as falling off a log."

Forreste moved uneasily in his saddle. He knew what "get him" meant
Barney Green turned on him, and savagely asked if he was "funking"
again.

"No," was the sullen reply, "I'm not. I've given my promise, and I'll
keep it. But you must remember that the policeman's tracker got away
from us, and Gerrard's nigger may do the same."

"I'll see to that," said Pinkerton. "If there is one thing that I can't
miss when I shoot, it's a nigger. If I had been with you that day, I
guess that that tracker wouldn't have got away."

The plan they had arranged was a very simple one. The Rocky Waterholes
were deep pools situated in the centre of a cluster of wildly confused
and lofty granite boulders and pillars, covered with vines and creepers
and broken up by narrow gullies. Cheyne knew the place, and knew almost
to a certainty the particular spot at which Gerrard would camp, either
for a few hours or for the night. It was in an open grassy space, almost
surrounded by giant boulders. It was their intention, after disposing
of Gerrard and the black boy, and securing the gold, to strike across
country for