n moved slowly off, bearing Wyck to the bush.

The boys were not long in following Wyck out of their train, but as they
thought he might get in at Toowoomba they kept a close watch on all
passengers travelling North and South. Reg tipped the conductors of both
boudoir cars, in order to look through them, and when both trains
started again, they felt satisfied he must be still in Toowoomba, unless
he had left previous to their arrival. Off they went to the nearest
hotel, and engaged a double-bedded room, in which they locked
themselves.

"What's the programme now, Hal?" said Reg.

"If he's here we must nab him. When does the first train start
to-morrow?"

"The guide says, 10.30 South, and 1.50 West."

"We'd better get up early and go round the town. You can put on your rig
and appear as a stranger looking round, while I'll put on my bush rig
and go amongst the swaggies and loafers in the bars. They generally have
their eyes open and my idea is that our man will have got hold of one of
them for information," said Hal, pulling out his bush togs.

"What shall I do, then?"

"Just knock around and keep your eyes open. He may drive away. Of course
he may have got away by now, but it's our only chance."

The next morning by half-past six both had left their room to commence
their search. Hal did not need any coaching in the manners or ways of a
bushman. He had seen too many of that fraternity during his travels.
With a slouch hat, a grisly beard, a crimson shirt, a clean pair of
moles with straps fastened below the knees, and a rough pair of boots,
he looked the typical bushman in search of work. His hands were stained
and looked sunburnt and dirty. He walked with a slow, long stride, first
into one public-house, then another, calling invariably for a quid of
tobacco in preference to liquor. He struck into conversation with
several of his own kidney, and interviewed boots and barmen, without
finding out anything of service to him, but still he kept on patiently
until he came to the "Royal," where he found an old man sweeping the
bar.

"Good-day, boss," said the sweeper.

"Good-day. Have a drink?"

"Don't mind if I do have a pint," said he, readily.

"I'll have rum," said Hal.

After a little desultory conversation and the drinks had disappeared the
sweeper, whom the barman addressed as Bill, returned the compliment, and
put down a sovereign in payment.

"Hallo, Bill, where did you make this?" called out the ba