"And poor Jacky! Where is he?"

"We'll find out presently, miss. Most likely the horses have cleared
out, and he's gone after 'em," shouted Scott.

For another five minutes the howling fury of the wind and the hissing
of the rain rendered any further conversation impossible. Then came a
sudden lull of both. Grainger struck a match and lit a small lantern he
was holding, and Sheila felt a great satisfaction as the light showed
upon his face---calm and quiet as ever--as he looked at her and smiled.

"You must pardon us coming into the tent, Miss Carolan, but we wanted to
light and leave the lantern with you. I'm afraid the horses have bolted
for shelter into the sandalwood scrub lower down the creek, or into the
gullies, and Jacky has gone after them. Will you mind staying here alone
for an hour or two whilst Scott and I help him to find them?"

"Not at all," she replied bravely, "and I really do not need the light.
I am not at all afraid."

"I know that, Miss Garolan. But it will serve to show us the way back."
(This was merely a kindly fiction.) "And if, during a lull in the rain,
you should hear any of the horses' bells, will you fire two shots from
that Winchester rifle there beside you? It is possible that they may
be quite near to us. Old Euchre" (one of the pack-horses) "has as much
sense as a Christian, and it is quite likely that whilst Scott, Jacky,
and I are looking for them in the scrub, he will lead them back here."

Then placing the lantern beside her, and partly shielding it with a
saddle cloth to protect it more folly from the gusts of wind, he and
Scott went out into the blackness.

She heard Scott a minute or two later give a loud _Coo-ee!_ for Jacky,
and fancied she heard an answering cry from the blackboy, a long
distance away. Then the rain again descended in a torrential downpour,
and drowned out all other sounds.

*****

Two weeks had passed since Sheila had left Townsville with Grainger
and the hard-riding old Warden and the swarthy-faced Lamington and his
savage-eyed, half-civilised troopers. At Chinkie's Flat they had learnt
that there were now three hundred white miners at the new rush on
Banshee Creek, but that everything was quiet, and that no disputes of
any kind had occurred, and all that Charteris would have to do would be
to visit the place, and, according to the "Gold-fields Act," proclaim
Banshee Creek to be a new gold-field. So, after spending a night
at Grainger's new house,