work, boss."

"Sing out then: a pint, eh?"

"Rather, boss."

Ten minutes later, the boys were in conversation with the proprietor of
the livery stables, if they could be called such.

"Well, all I know is that he paid me thirty pound down for the whole
turn-out, and I see him driving away with an old shearer, named Joe
Brown," said the owner, in answer to their questions.

"Which direction did they take?"

"Looked as if they were going to follow the river: in fact, they'll have
to, as water is scarce."

"We want to overtake these fellows. Have you another trap?"

"Not to sell. I've got a fine buggy and pair here. They could prick
spots off the others. I want a pound a-day for them."

"Then hitch them up as fast as you like, and put a good stock of feed
in, while we go and get ready."

"By George, this is good business," said the man to himself, as he
hastened away to get the horses ready.

The boys hurried off to one of the stores, and purchased a stock of
provisions, a small tent, and some cooking utensils. An hour later,
they drove away in pursuit of the fugitives, following the road along
the creek.

The girls had been unsuccessful in finding out anything. As they walked
along the street, they noticed a trap with two men in it drive out of a
yard.

"I wonder where they are off to," said May.

"Some squatter's turn-out, I suppose. Let's go to the yard they came out
of," answered Hil.

"They've gone after a gent who started this morning," said the
proprietor, in answer to her enquiry.

"Which way are they making?"

"Along the river, I think."

"I suppose you have not another trap and horses ready."

"No, sir. I've only got the two, and one of them I sold this morning to
the first gent."

"What's on there?" asked Hil, pointing to a crowd round some stockyards.

"Auction, that's all."

"Are they selling horses?"

"Yes, some scrubbers, I think."

"Come on, May. Let's have a look: we can do with a pair of
saddle-horses, for we must follow on horseback, or we shall never
overtake them."

"I'm agreeable."

"That's not a bad hack. Rather weak in the fore shoulder. Thirty bob,
eh?" "Well it's cheap at that," said Hil, examining the horse. "Now this
looks better. Come closer, I like the look of this one," and strolling
into the yard she opened the horse's mouth.

"I'll give you a couple of notes," she said to the auctioneer.

"Two pounds, two-ten, three, three-five, three-ten. It's gone.