d Stackpole
seemed slipping through their fingers.

"The Yankee and the two boys have a good deal of gold about them,"
suggested Colson. "Of course it isn't much, compared with the nugget,
but it is better than nothing."

"How much has the Yankee?" demanded King.

"Three hundred pounds at least."

"That is something, but as he will travel with the government escort, we
should have to attack the whole party."

"Not necessarily. I have a plan that I think will work."

"Detail it."

Colson did so. What it was will appear in due time.

Meanwhile Obed and the two boys had started on their way to Melbourne.
With a strong military escort they gave themselves up to joyful
anticipations of the bright future that opened before them. They no
longer entertained apprehensions of being waylaid, being secure in the
strength of their party.

They travelled by easy stages, and at night camped out. A sentry was
always posted, who stood guard while the rest were asleep, for, unlikely
as an attack might be, it was deemed necessary to provide against it.

Often, however, after supper Obed and the two boys would take a walk
together, in order to talk over their plans without interruption from
others. On the third evening they unwittingly walked a little further
than usual. Harry was the first to notice it.

"Hadn't we better return, Obed?" he said. "We must be a mile from the
camp."

"You are right," said Obed. "It would be rather unlucky to meet with the
bushrangers, just as we are gettin' on so well."

"That's true; we mustn't run any risks."

They started to return, when Jack, stopping suddenly, said, "I thought I
heard a groan."

"So did I," said Harry.

They paused, and the groan was repeated. It appeared to come from a
couple of rods to the left in the recesses of the forest.

"If there's any poor critter in pain we ought to help him," said Obed,
"come along, boys!"

It was not difficult to discover the spot from which the groan
proceeded. A man of middle age lay outstretched beneath a tree, with an
expression of pain on his face.

"What's the matter, my friend?" asked Obed, standing over him.

"The bushrangers have robbed and beaten me," said the prostrate man
feebly.

"You don't say so! How long since?"

"About an hour."

"Then they must be near by," said Harry.

"No; they went away as soon as they got my money."

Meanwhile Jack had been attentively examining the face of the alleged
victim. He quiet