of the Road

Sergeant Cameron was undressing for bed when he first heard the voices
through the weather-board walls; in less than a minute there was a knock
at his door.

"Here's Mr. Hardcastle from Rosanna, sir. He says he must see you at
once."

"The deuce he does! What about?"

"He says he'll only tell you; but he's ridden over in three hours, and
he looks like the dead."

"Give him some whiskey, Tyler, and tell him I'll be down in two ticks."

So saying, the gray-bearded sergeant of the New South Wales Mounted
Police tucked his night-gown into his cord breeches, slipped into his
tunic, and hastened to the parlor which served as court-room on
occasion, buttoning as he went. Mr. Hardcastle had a glass to his lips
as the sergeant entered. He was a very fine man of forty, and his
massive frame was crowned with a countenance as handsome as it was open
and bold; but at a glance it was plain that he was both shaken and
exhausted, and in no mood to hide either his fatigue or his distress.
Sergeant Cameron sat down on the other side of the oval table with the
faded cloth; the younger constable had left the room when Hardcastle
called him back.

"Don't go, Tyler," said he. "You may as well both hear what I've got to
say. It's--it's Stingaree!"

The name was echoed in incredulous undertones.

"But he's down in Vic," urged the sergeant. "He's been giving our chaps
a devil of a time down there!"

"He's come back. I've seen him with my own eyes. But I'm beginning at
the wrong end first," said the squatter, taking another sip and then
sitting back to survey his hearers. "You know old Duncan, my overseer?"

The sergeant nodded.

"Of course you know him," the other continued, "and so does the whole
back-country, and did even before he won this fortune in the Melbourne
Cup sweep. I suppose you've heard how he took the news? He was fuddling
himself from his own bottle on Sunday afternoon when the mail came; the
first I knew of it was when I saw him sitting with his letter in one
hand and throwing out the rest of his grog with the other. Then he told
us he had won the first prize of thirty thousand, and that he had made
up his mind to have his next drink at his own place in Scotland. He left
us that afternoon to catch the coach and go down to Sydney for his
money. He ought to have been back this evening before sundown."

The sergeant put in his word:

"That he ought, for I saw him come off the coach and start for t