of
lawless men in the colony. Some of these men have made themselves very
formidable. There is Captain Stockton, for instance."

"_Was_, you mean, captain."

"I don't understand you."

"Captain Stockton is dead."

"Do you mean this? How do you know?" inquired the captain of police
eagerly.

"He was killed yesterday by one of his men."

"What evidence have you of this?" demanded the captain incredulously.

"Them two boys saw him shot," said Obed, indicating Harry and Jack.

"Tell me all about it, young man," said the captain to Harry. "It will
be good news at Bendigo. Returning miners are always in fear of this
famous bushranger, Stockton. He doesn't care so much to attack parties
bound to the mines, for they are not supposed to have much with them,
but those returning to Melbourne generally carry more or less gold, and
are worth capturing."

Harry gave a succinct account of his adventures while in the power of
the bushrangers, and the scene of which he had been a witness. The
captain of police listened attentively.

"This is good news," he remarked. "There will be a new captain
appointed, of course, but there is not another man connected with the
gang who can take Stockton's place or do as much mischief as he has
done."

"How far are we from Bendigo, captain?" asked Obed.

"Two days' journey, or perhaps more."

"A long distance, considering we have no money."

"You will have half the reward. Your share will be fifty pounds."

"That won't do us any good now, unless you'll be kind enough to advance
us a part of that sum."

"I would if I were able, but I am not provided with any money beyond
what I need. You and the boys may come with us, however, if you wish."

"I should like nothing better, captain. Once at Bendigo, and we'll
manage to shift for ourselves."

"Very well, so let it be."

I pass over the events of the next two days. Obed and the boys, after
all their troubles, found themselves provided with an official escort,
and on the morning of the third day arrived at the famous gold-fields of
Bendigo.

Ballarat and Mount Alexander preceded Bendigo in point of time, but
Bendigo has been far more productive. As the little party descended a
hill made white by the sandy dirt thrown out of the mines, they saw
below them Bendigo Creek, yellow as the Tiber, running sluggishly
through the valley, which on either side had been dug up by prospectors
for gold. All about on the slopes of the hills and