g, lads; we'll see you
when we get back, and good luck to you."

It was quite enough to spur on the energies of the hungry gully-rakers,
and with brief good wishes they went on their way, hastening as much as
their burdens and the steepness of the track would allow.

Other mobs, some small, some large, were encountered as the two rode on,
and always Barber gave the same answer to the questions, and with the
same result. The men were too anxious to overtake those who were ahead,
and get their claims pegged out, to think of anything else.

They were in sight of Boulder Creek, and could see Cudlip's Rest showing
out on the slope the other side of the creek, when they met the last two
of the army, one of whom was Cudlip himself, who, having weighed the
chances, had decided to leave the hotel to run itself while he went and
had a look round the field. He and a brother, who had a small selection
near the Rest, had discussed it, and, deciding to start in the morning,
had gone to get their horses from the paddock, only to find that some
one else had secured them in advance. The appearance of Barber and Tap
and two spare horses altered the complexion of affairs considerably to
the brothers, for they had money with them, and the sooner they were on
the field the better the chance of their recovering their own stolen
mounts. They opened negotiations at once, and Barber, rousing their
enthusiasm by the nuggets he displayed, and working on their naturally
ruffled feelings (after hearing of the missing horses) by describing
just where the borrowers of them would be, managed to secure all the
money they had and an order from Cudlip for more on the manager of
Barellan Downs. Then they resumed their way, and while the two brothers
hastened up the track after fortune and their stolen horses, Barber and
his companion rode on to the deserted hotel, where they took possession
of a couple of saddles and such other articles as they fancied they
required.

In the camp by the creek there was turmoil when Gleeson and his three
companions awakened to find they had been robbed of both horses and
bridles, but left with the now useless saddles. Two of the men--the two
who had been the first of the pedestrians to arrive the evening before,
and who had enjoyed the hospitality of the four--had also disappeared,
and in no man's mind was there a question by whom the horses had been
taken. Samuel Walker, sitting disconsolately by his saddle, expressed