ress from the top of the street to the
bridge. He is the most important and the richest man in Dunedin, and it
was generally felt that if the soldiers let him pass the street might be
regarded as free to anyone. Kerrigan is a portly man, who could not have
jumped the rope, and would have found it inconvenient to crawl under
it. The soldiers politely loosed one end of the rope and let him walk
through.

At nine o'clock a farmer's cart, laden with manure, crossed the bridge
and began to climb the street. Willie Thornton came to the door of the
Court House with a cigarette in his mouth and watched the cart. It
was hoped by the people of Dunedin, especially by the small boys, that
something would happen. Foot passengers might be allowed to pass, but
a wheeled vehicle would surely be stopped. But the soldiers loosed the
rope and let the cart go through without a question. Ten minutes later a
governess cart, drawn by a pony, appeared at the top of the street. It,
too, was passed through the barricade without difficulty. There was a
general feeling of disappointment in the village, and most of the people
went back to their houses. It was raining heavily, and it is foolish to
get wet through when there is no prospect of any kind of excitement.
The soldiers, such was the general opinion, were merely practising some
unusual and quite incomprehensible military manouvre.

The opinion was a mistaken one. The few who braved the rain and stood
their ground watching the soldiers, had their reward later on. At ten
o'clock, Mr. Davoren, the auctioneer, drove into the village in his
motor-car. Mr. Davoren lives in Ballymurry, a town of some size, six
miles from Dunedin. His business requires him to move about the country
a good deal, and he is quite wealthy enough to keep a Ford car. His
appearance roused the soldiers to activity. Willie Thornton, without a
cigarette this time, stood beside the barricade. A sentry, taking his
place in the middle of the street, called to Mr. Davoren to halt. Mr.
Davoren, who was coming along at a good pace, was greatly surprised, but
he managed to stop his car and his engine a few feet from the muzzle of
the sentry's rifle.

Willie Thornton, speaking politely but firmly, told Mr. Davoren to
get out of the car. He did not know the auctioneer, and had no way of
telling whether he was one of "these fellows" or not. The fact that Mr.
Davoren looked most respectable and fat was suspicious. A cute fox
might p