zed the Socialist. He
kicked, cursed, bit, screamed and wriggled, but to no purpose. As the
train slowed down, Bill jumped out, and, running along to the driver,
held him up with a masonic wink and a Scotch refreshment. The trussed
form of the M.P. was then carried out of the train. He was still
cursing. But the Bushmen quietly tied him to a signal post. This
completed, Claud pinned a great white sheet of paper with an
inscription on it.

"Good-bye, old cock," shouted the Bushmen, jumping into the train
again. The whistle blew, and as the train went slowly past the enraged
captive, the eyes of all read the notice fixed to his waist:

"THIS IS NOT AN AUSTRALIAN,
HE'S A D---- FOOL.
(_Signed_) KANGAROO MARINES."

CHAPTER II

MELBOURNE VERSUS SYDNEY

Sam Killem, Commanding Officer of the Kangaroo Marines, sat in his
Recruiting Office chewing a cigar in the usual Australian style. Now
and again he looked at his recruiting figures and smiled. "Five
hundred men in three days," he mused. "Not bad for you, Sam; and good
stuff at that"--for Sam was a judge of men. He was a squatter and as
rich as Croesus. His big, bony frame spoke of strength, while his eye
and face told the tale of shrewdness and resource. He was forty, and
successful. Three hundred miles of land was chartered as his own. His
sheep were counted in thousands, and his brand as familiar as a postage
stamp. Yet, in all his struggles for success, Sam had found time to be
a patriot. He had served as a Tommy in the African War, and since then
had commanded a corps of mounted men in the back of beyond. He was the
fairest yet fiercest, the most faithful and fearless man in the force.
A man who disobeyed his orders always received a knock-out blow, for
Sam boxed like a pro. and hit like a hammer.

"Some more recruits, sir," said his sergeant-major, opening the door.

"Right, Jones; show them in."

The door closed on the now famous quartette--Claud, Bill, Paddy, and
Sandy. They were still in their rough bush-whacking clothes, while
their eyes told the tale of a merry night before.

"Well, boys--glad to see you."

"We've met before, Sam," said Bill.

"Guess we have, but cut out the 'Sam,' click your heels together, say
'sir,' when you answer, and salute when you meet me. I'm bossing this
show. And we can't have sheep-shearing familiarities--understand!"

"Bit sudden like!" smiled Bill, trying to comply.

"Not so sudde