ng the
lower quarters, but let's ask here where Mick Tier lives."

"What, Mick Tier, Slavin's friend when he was in England?"

"The same. Here he is," and a stout gentleman, who could turn the scale
at eighteen stone, appeared.

They had half-an-hour's chat with their genial host, without being able
to procure any additional information, and went on to the "Melbourne
Hotel." They entered the saloon, and were smilingly greeted by a
good-looking young lady.

"Good evening, Miss Wallace; how are you, this evening?" said Hal,
leaning familiarly over the bar.

"Very well, thank you."

"Have you seen Wyck lately?"

"No, do you know him?" answered she, with a slight start.

"Oh, yes, I know him well. He told me to call and give you his best
love, Gussy."

"That's very kind of him, and did he tell you my name?"

"Certainly. When did you see him last?"

"I don't remember. Why?" she asked, curiously. "But really I forget your
name, though I remember your face."

"Thompson is my name. It is very unkind of you to forget me so soon."

"I don't remember the name."

"I saw Wyck at Port Pirie. He said he thought he was going on to
Melbourne."

"But he did not go," said the girl, quickly, and Hal gave Reg a gentle
touch with his foot.

"Where did he go to?"

"Come on, let us look round and see all the pretty girls," said a
familiar voice behind them, and turning they saw Tickell and an elderly
gentleman.

"Hullo, Morris and Winter. I've found you out," shouted Tickell.

Hal made a movement of annoyance, for he had seen the girl start at
their names, and now felt sure she was in league with Wyck, and knew of
his whereabouts.

"Will you join me, gentlemen?" said Tickell, between his smiles and
smirks at the barmaid.

"No, thanks," said Hal, as he sat at a small table, with Reg alongside
him.

"Confound that old fool, he's spoilt my game," said he, in a low tone,
to Reg.

"How did you know her name, Hal!"

"My dear boy, if a girl leaves a letter on the shelves behind, addressed
to Miss Wallace--"

"I see, but where did the Gussy come in?"

"Look at her brooch, and you will find that."

"Well, good-bye, my dear; awfully sorry I must go. Good-bye, gentlemen,"
and Tickell and his friend retired.

"You'll excuse me for a moment, sirs," said the barmaid, leaving her
post, with a bow. Quick as lightning, Hal leant across and examined the
envelope--

"Melbourne stamp, dated two days ago."

"And that's h