d of his. The former had been very little heard of in those
parts since the night that his aunt implored him to give up his
associates. The last that was really seen of Lawrence and his friend,
they were drinking together in a public-house, and a few days after
some of their torn and blood-stained clothes were found in a lonely
hedged-in lane close by the moor. This dreaded place was called the
"Mugger's Lonnin" by the country-folk, owing to its being a
camping-ground for the gipsies, and from end to end it was prolific of
bramble-berries and other wild fruit. When the children went during
the summer months to gather these they were always accompanied by a
few grown-up people, as it was believed that many terrible tragedies
had happened there. The discovery of the clothes and the patches of
blood right in the middle of the lonnin was indicative of a foul
murder having taken place, and the bodies dragged along the grass to
some place of concealment. Search parties were formed, bloodhounds
were called into requisition, but no trace of the murdered lads'
bodies could be found, and for many months this supposed terrible
crime was sealed in mystery. A few people were callous enough to say
that they were convinced that no murder had taken place, but these
were very unpopular. The greater part of the small colony liked
sensation, and nursed this one assiduously until an almost greater
came to hand by it leaking out that the two men had been expeditiously
sent to Australia, and that the blood on their clothes was not their
own, but that of a sheep which had been killed for the purpose of
misleading. This exciting revelation lead to important issues. Were
they really alive and in Australia? Had they been bribed to reveal the
secrets of their former friends, or was it dread of capture that
caused them to be sent out of the country? These were some of the
outspoken conjectures that flowed with ever-increasing imagination.
The real facts never became known, but the tales of these stirring
times have been handed down in more or less hyperbolic form. It may be
fairly assumed that Thomas Turnbull got reliable information from some
source which he was never known to disclose, and having got it, he
hastened to use it judiciously and to advantage.

The entrance to the cave was at last found at a spot where he and his
comrades had many times traversed. It was so ingeniously concealed
that they might have searched until the day of doom, an