I own it didn't
dawn on me just then. I happened to be thinking of the stations round
about, and wondering if they were as burnt up as we are, and when I met
this swell I simply took him for a new chum on one or other of them."

"There had been robbery, of course?"

"An absolute clearance," said Hardcastle. "The valise had been cut to
ribbons with a knife, and its other contents were strewed all about; a
pocketbook we found still bulging from the roll of notes which had been
taken out. I waited beside him while Evans went back for the buggy, and
when they started to take him in I rode on to you."

"We'll ride back with you at once," said the sergeant, "and find you a
fresh horse if your own has had enough. Run up the lot, Tyler, and Mr.
Hardcastle can take his choice. It seems clear enough," continued
Cameron, as the trooper disappeared. "But this is a new departure for
Stingaree; it's the very thing that everybody said he would never do."

"And yet it's the logical climax of his career; it might have happened
long ago, but it's not his first blood as it is," argued Hardcastle,
when he had drained his glass. "Didn't he wing one of you down in
Victoria the other day? Your bushranger is bound to come to it sooner or
later. He may much prefer not to shoot; but he has only to get up
against a man of his own calibre, as resolute and as well armed as
himself, to have no choice in the matter. Poor old Duncan was the very
type; he would never have given way. In fact, we found him with his own
revolver fast in his hand, and a finger frozen to the trigger, but not a
chamber discharged."

"Yes? Then that settles it, and it must have been foul play," cried
Cameron, owning a doubt in its dismissal. "And we mustn't lose a single
minute in getting on this blackguard's tracks."

Yet it was midnight before the little cavalcade set out upon a ride of
over thirty miles, for arrangements had to be made for a telegram to be
sent to the Glenranald coroner first thing in the morning, and to insure
this it was necessary to disturb the postmaster, who occupied one of the
three weather-board dwellings which constituted the roadside hamlet of
Clear Corner. A round moon topped the sand-hills as the trio rode away;
it was near its almost dazzling zenith when they reined up at the scene
of the murder. This was at a point where the sandy track ran through a
belt of scrub, and the sergeant got off to examine the ground with
Hardcastle, while Tyl